The Wolf's Concubine

by Erin St. Charles

  She crawled on the floor to the kitchen window. Crouching under the window, she slowly rose up to look over the windowsill. Her heart raced as she expected to be met with the visage of snapping white teeth. It didn't calm when there was nothing there, nothing she could see.

  She rose up a bit more to look around. There was nothing out there but sunshine and prairie. She sagged with relief. Phelan must have chased off the others. It was a good thing Phelan had caught up to her before she got too far from the cabin.

  This incident completely torpedoed her conviction that she could take care of herself. At least, she conceded to needing a little help at the moment.

  She moved to the couch and sat down. She took several deep breaths, trying to get her breathing under control and her heart rate back to normal.

  A rattling at the front door caused her to freeze.

  “Open,” Phelan said through the door.

  Bossy, she thought, but closed her eyes in relief before she let him in. He stood in the doorway, all his parts intact, the picture of male beauty. As he stared at her with those intense blue eyes, she restrained herself for a moment before giving in to her desire to throwing her arms around the naked man and sobbing with relief.

  Her body arched toward his like a moth to a flame, completely without her permission. Maybe it was the struggle to leave this man only to be reluctantly brought back. Or perhaps it was because he protected her even when she didn’t want him to, but she wanted this man.

  His scent had intensified after his morning run and chasing away the beasts running her down. He smelled of sweat, grass...and him. Her brain wanted to firmly reject this man, but her body wanted to vigorously climb him, then mount him.

  All her training in controlled seduction seemed useless now as her big mouth tried to push him away, but her horny body seemed determined to pull him closer. The lustful thoughts she had toward him earlier raced through her body, leaving goosebumps on her skin, and wetness in her panties.

  He loomed over her, his breathing hard and angry. Her body responded to this by arching even further into him. She yearned for him to touch her. She wanted him to slant his mouth over hers, hold the back of her head, and kiss her. Her breasts ached for him to touch and squeeze them.

  Lola thought about their kisses outside of the diner and she wondered how his stubble would feel against her mouth. Her eyes looked up into his, searching, trying to determine what he would do next. He dipped his head and brought his lips to within a hair’s breadth of hers.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” he snarled.

  Her breath caught as she imagined turning that anger into a different type of passion. “I’m sorry…”

  “Are you really?” His eyes blazed with anger as he glowered at her.

  She stepped back and hugged her arms around herself, trying to get her body under control. She wished she could take back the last few hours. He was angry, but oddly enough, she didn’t detect any animosity toward her, exactly.

  For some reason she could not fully understand, she knew the anger was because he was worried about her. In the same way she experienced his sense of relaxation the day before, she could feel his anxiety for her now.

  His anxiety sparked hers and she thought about the encounter they just had.

  “Were those shifters? Why were they chasing me?”

  “You let me worry about that,” he said, closing the door as he brushed past her and into the kitchen.

  He pulled open a drawer and extracted a shiny pair of handcuffs. Then he crooked a finger at her.

  “Wha— what are you going to do with those?” She stepped forward cautiously until she stood in front of him. She kept her eyes on him, fighting the urge to glance at his crotch.

  “What do you think?” He cocked his head at her, much the same way he had when shifted. She could still see the wolf in him. As a human, he was the picture of restraint, even fussy at times. He liked having things just so. But she could see the beast in him, and she liked it.

  “You don’t need to, uh, restrain me. I’ll be good.” She cupped her hands together, then touched her lips with her fingers.

  “I don’t think you’re capable of being good,” he said in a stern voice that sent shivers up her spine.

  He looked so bossy at that moment that she was aroused—yet confused. She wasn’t used to feeling emotional about men.

  Yet this man took her through so many different feelings. Even inappropriate ones, like lust. She wondered if he was turned on at the moment, too. She couldn't stop her eyes from dropping down. And wouldn’t you know it, between his body and her eyes was his impressive dick. She thought she should be kind of used to seeing him naked, but this time he was rock hard, his long, thick cock curled up toward his flat belly.

  She let out an involuntary gasp at the sight of his manhood. He took the opportunity to slap a cuff around her left wrist. Then he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and strode to the huge support beam in the middle of the cabin. Before she knew what was happening, he had her hugging the beam and the other cuff around her right wrist.

  “What are you doing?” she sputtered and strained against the cuffs.

  “Wait here,” he said sternly, giving her a slap on the ass before heading for the shower.

  “Hey!” she yelled as he slammed the bathroom door. She could sense his emotional state. He was pleased at her predicament, but it was his self-satisfaction that made her even more angry.

  He took his sweet time taking a shower and getting dressed. All the while, she stood hugging the column. She couldn't even sit down. What an ass.

  When he emerged from the bathroom, he was clothed in a t-shirt and jeans.

  “Have you calmed down?” he asked in a teasing tone as he unlocked the cuffs.

  He met her gaze and gave her a wry grin.

  Lola rubbed her wrists and cast him a resentful glance.

  “Let’s just go, okay?” she said coldly.

  His words were teasing, yet his emotions were tender, which confused Lola. Why was she feeling his emotions? Up until this point in her life, Lola’s sixth sense only worked to protect her from danger. Now she seemed to be focused on Phelan like a highly attuned, specific type of empathy. Concern and protectiveness rolled off him in waves. Lola scarcely knew what to make of it.

  He led the way to the truck and helped her in. She didn't get the feeling he was ensuring her compliance, but was actually being considerate. She sat in confused silence as he got them on their way.

  “Who were those guys?” she finally asked. “I mean, they were shifters, right? Not regular wolves?”

  She watched him closely as he drove. He remained relaxed, his expression neutral. He glanced at her and sighed. “They were shifters, yes. Juveniles. Brats. I’m sure someone put them up to it.”

  “Who would do—” she started to say, then broke off. “Sheriff Dennis.”

  It made sense. There was clearly antipathy between the sheriff and Phelan.

  He gave her a startled glance. “What makes you say that?”

  “Y’all clearly do not like each other," she said with a small wave of her hand. "Can I ask why?”

  Phelan let out a sigh.

  “His father is pack alpha," he said, his eyes fixed on the road. "His mother was human, and Dennis can’t shift. He was always trying to compensate for that.”

  “Is there an issue with his mother not being a shifter?” she asked. Not that it mattered to her. Her lack of shifter status wasn’t the only reason why Perdition could never be home for her.

  “Not at all," he said, sounding surprised at the question. "We have quite a few pack members who aren’t shifters, not to mention all the folks in town who are human or latent, like you.”

  This surprised her. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard of a latent who was “out,” as most didn’t advertise their psychic abilities.

  “There are latents in Perdition?” she asked, searching his profile for a reaction.

 
; He shrugged.

  “Yes, a few that I know of.” He glanced at her speculatively. “Would you like to meet one? Auntie Greene runs the apothecary. She’s clairvoyant. We could stop by.”

  After what they’d been through that morning, she was shocked that he’d make the offer. No one outside of Ruby had ever offered to help her find more people like her. Aside from the stigma attached to latency, Lola resisted being close to others—too much of an opportunity to be hurt by the wrong person. And yet…

  “I’d like that,” she found herself saying.

  “Great,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s get some breakfast and I’ll take you to her shop. I have some business to take care of at the police station while you visit.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what business, but he was pulling into a parking spot on a side street around the corner from the diner and there were other people around. He stopped the truck, and she reached for the door handle. She stopped when he put his hand on her arm.

  “You’re my fiancée, remember?” he said as he hauled her into his arms, cupped her face in his hands, and covered her mouth with his.

  This kiss was nothing like the first one, which had been for show and was quite tame. It felt as if he were sucking the breath from her lungs, his hot tongue caressing as he explored her mouth. She was wholly unprepared for the lust that ran through her.

  She gasped and her body strained to press against his broad chest. She was awash in the sensations this man produced in her. The callouses on the pads of his fingers as he stroked her cheeks. His soft lips, combined with the rasp of his beard against her skin. His fingers roamed over her face and her hair.

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged, tilting her face away from him. When their eyes met, she somehow knew exactly what he wanted. She gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head, and then his mouth was on her neck, licking, tasting, kissing. She sucked in a breath when his lips ghosted over a particularly sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck.

  In the back of her mind, she wondered whether this was a good idea when she planned to leave at some point, soon. But she was enjoying being on the receiving end of a seduction, and it was interesting how her responses melded with his emotional state. It was like she was experiencing his emotions. Desire, giddiness… and something else she could not name. Something that felt good, but also terrifying.

  He slowly pulled back and looked at her. His fingers were still entangled in the mass of her dark hair.

  His voice was dark and husky when he spoke again.

  “This is how wolves say ‘good morning’ to their mates.” He ran a calloused fingertip down her nose and over her lips, sending shivers all over her skin. Her nipples reacted by going hard. Cream flooded her panties.

  “It is?” She felt the way he felt. Horny and giddy. She had no way of knowing this for sure. But she knew nevertheless.

  He leaned in for another lingering kiss. This time, he sucked her bottom lip, holding it between his own, tugging at it, biting it.

  When he pulled away for good, she was oddly disappointed. But the emotional connection continued, and for the time being, at least, she would let it ride.

  Chapter 20

  Considering the fact that the Perdition Pack was a powerful force, not only in the region but nationwide, Perdition itself was a sleepy town with only a few thousand residents. As they stepped out on the sidewalk in front of the diner after breakfast, he scanned the street, something in him relaxing with the familiar sights.

  "So, where to?" he asked Lola.

  She wrinkled her nose in a way he found adorable, and said, "I need toiletries. And, um, underwear. Socks. And maybe a couple of t-shirts. I don't know what's here, really."

  "For a small town, Perdition has a number of places. A pharmacy, real estate office, hardware store, ice cream shop, a diner, even a couple of dry cleaners." He pointed out the stores they could see as he mentioned them.

  Lola's eyes grew wide as he spoke. "I hadn't expected that. I mean, I saw the thrift store, but kinda figured the place was too small for a real estate office, not to mention a dry cleaner. Do you know everyone here, too?"

  Phelan made a so-so gesture with his hand. "Old Man Richards runs the hardware, as he did when I was a kid growing up here. The apothecary-slash-pharmacy has also been here since I was a kid, but I've not met the new owner, Auntie Greene. My guess is you’ll be able to get everything at the apothecary.”

  Lola studied the various shops, then pointed at a hulking limestone church building at the end of the long street that ran through town.

  “What’s that?” she asked, indicating the church.

  “That’s St. Ailbe’s,” he said. He went on to explain the origins of the parish.

  The Latino population had founded the town after the Prometheus Incident had outed the shifter population worldwide. Later, immigrants from Ireland and Eastern Europe settled in the town, and eventually the town had enough residents to support the construction of a new parish. Every year at homecoming, a band of Romani shifters set up their travelling carnival in the church parking lot. He would take Lola while they were there.

  It was funny how this had turned out. His mate—who had no clue of her status—was now posing as his fiancée. Wasn’t that ironic? He grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. She froze, then relaxed.

  “Come along, darling.” He smiled at her fondly. Her expression melted, then turned calculating for a second.

  “Lead the way, Lamb Chop.” She gave him a saccharine-sweet smile in return.

  They crossed the street and entered the apothecary, a bell cheerfully chiming as they entered. Lola's eyes grew wide as she looked around and Phelan tried to see the place from her eyes. It looked the same as it always had, for all the world like any small-town pharmacy, only with herbs hanging from the ceiling, and rows and rows of what appeared to be tiny bottles of magic potions, eyes of newt, whatever.

  A few patrons milled around the pharmacy counter, picking up prescriptions and waiting in line to consult with a tall, blond man wearing a lab coat as if he were Thor, Viking Pharmacist. There was something about the way he moved that screamed “shifter” but not of any type Phelan recognized. Two brown-skinned women spoke in low tones near an endcap display of herbal remedies. One of the women wore leggings and a plaid tunic.

  The other woman wore a full skirt with beads and tiny mirrors sewn into it. Her t-shirt was white and loose-fitting, her hair done up in multi-colored thin braids, which she had piled on top of her head in a bun almost the size of her own head. Large silver hoop earrings matched the bracelets at her wrists and ankles, completing the ensemble. His brows rose in surprise when he saw she was barefoot. In the middle of October, when it was typically pretty chilly. She gave off eccentric, patchouli-burning vibes.

  Incense Woman’s head swiveled in their direction. She frowned at them speculatively, then broke into a smile that revealed beautiful white teeth and a deep dimple in one cheek.

  She hurried over to them, still smiling, and Phelan held out a hand to introduce himself. She ignored his hand and pulled him in for a hug. He froze, startled, then gently pushed the woman away from him and squinted at her, trying to place her. He took a deep breath, hoping he'd recognize her scent. Nope. Next to him, Lola cleared her throat. When he glanced at her, he saw she was giving the other woman a hard stare.

  “Mr. Richards told me you were in town!” the woman said with an excited grin.

  “He did?” Phelan said, thinking of the nosy old man. He pulled Lola into his side, then draped an arm over her shoulders, signaling that he was already taken.

  “He sure did!” The woman was beaming at him, overly familiar. Frankly, it was freaking him out a little. He was pretty sure he had never met her before.

  The woman stroked his bicep. Beside him, Lola shuffled her feet and leaned into him.

  “I’m Auntie,” the woman said. “I was just telling Mr. Richards I was expecting someone
new in town. Someone who didn’t know he was coming would be bringing someone who wasn’t expecting to be here, either. When I saw him just yesterday, he said you were back in town and you brought your fiancée. And here you both are!”

  He frowned for a second at her convoluted speech, then smiled. Of course. He'd heard about her from Mr. Richards. This was Auntie, the town’s conjure-woman. She must have a touch of second sight.

  “And this is Jasmine, my niece.” Auntie gestured at the young woman Phelan had seen her talking to earlier.

  “Your niece?” He looked between the two women with a puzzled frown. They appeared to be close in age.

  “It’s a long story,” said Jasmine, plucking Auntie’s hand off Phelan’s arm and yanking her aunt back a few steps in a not-so-subtle gesture. “Don’t mind her. She’s just trying to get to know you. In her own, weird way. How can we help you?”

  “I picked Lola up from work and came straight to town for the weekend. But we were in such a hurry that we forgot her overnight bag. So, we’re stocking up on everything she needs.”

  Phelan thought it best not to lead with Lola’s special abilities, which he sensed she might be reluctant to discuss. If she got cold feet and didn’t want to get into it with Auntie, she wouldn’t feel pressured to do so. Plus, Lola didn’t seem to care for Auntie.

  “Well, you've come to the right place.” Auntie turned her bright eyes to Lola. “And what do you do, Lola?”

  “Ah…” Phelan started.

  “What do I do?” Lola blurted, her voice rising and eyes narrowing on Auntie. “I work in a brothel.”

  He flinched at her volume.

  “Pack towns...” Phelan muttered under his breath, exasperated. Soon, the whole town would be up in his—their—business.

  He had to hand it to Jasmine and Auntie, though. Neither of them so much as blinked at Lola’s loud revelation. However, several pharmacy customers turned curious stares on the women.

  Lola gave him a look as if she’d heard him, then the side-eye. Jasmine and Auntie seemed not to have heard his comment. Jasmine snaked a hand around Lola’s shoulders, ignoring her suspicious glances. Jasmine led Lola down an aisle of toiletries, and Auntie followed, the jingling bells of her ankle bracelets sounding her retreat.