by Susan Bliler
Alise blinked at him.
“Well, until now,” he sighed. “When someone starts fucking with me, I fuck back, but you…” Brows spearing down, his eyes flashed that molten gold she was growing so familiar with. “I can’t tolerate anyone messing with you, sweetheart. I just…I can’t.”
“So you think it’s a game. Monroe is messing with us somehow.”
He shrugged again. “Like I said, it seems awfully convenient.”
“Forced stricken.” She looked down as she twisted her fingers together, her mind whirling. “Your wolf thinks it’s true and is acting accordingly, and I’m…” She glanced up at him. “I can’t be too far from you, so there’s that.”
Lifting a hand, he brushed the long sweep of her ponytail off her shoulder and dropped his hand to the exposed skin of her shoulder where he traced her blackbird tattoo. “Don’t worry. I’m sticking close.”
Alise fought to ignore the heat that pooled low in her belly at his touch even as goosebumps rose on her skin beneath his fingers. “S-so now what?”
“I call, Dell.” He grinned at her tattoo. “Dell BlackBird.”
When Chief grinned, butterflies started a brawl right in Alise’s middle. Good Lord, the man was beautiful!
“Dell?” she asked, trying to concentrate on what Chief was saying instead of how he looked and how his hands on her were making her feel. “Who’s he?”
“The Alpha of the BlackBird pack.”
“But not your Alpha?”
“No.” Lowering his hand, he settled it on her hip. “But a smart Alpha. He rules the wolves of Montana, and he knows Monroe. He’ll know if a forced stricken is even possible.”
“Wait! So, this might be real?”
Chief shrugged, and Alise decided she hated the gesture. He kept doing it when he didn’t want to answer, and it was frustrating.
“But it doesn’t matter,” she clipped out and shoved his hand off her hip and stood, pacing to the window and looking out. “Because you don’t want a human. I’m too weak, and you’re afraid you’ll break me.”
Behind her, Chief gave another vague answer that had her curling her hands into tight little fists.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, sweetheart. One battle at a time.”
Chapter 8
One battle at a time? One battle at a time! Alise was fuming but said nothing as the bed creaked. Without looking, she knew Chief had gotten up even before his heavy footsteps paced toward the door.
“I’m gonna go make that call. You should get some rest. It’s late, and it’s been a long ass day.”
She didn’t turn from the window when she said, “I’ll take the couch.” Wouldn’t want this lowly human keeping you from your bed.
“No. You won’t.”
Pissed, she whipped her head around and shot him a dark look over her shoulder.
“Sweetheart, I gotta have my beast between you and the world. That means me taking the couch while you’re safe up here. Besides,” he pointed at her gown. “You tore your dress.”
Gesturing toward the dressers, he directed, “Help yourself to whatever clothes you want. There are fresh towels in the bathroom if you wanna shower. I’ll be downstairs.”
Annoyed as she was, Alise couldn’t help feeling a little grateful when Chief’s expression softened as he said, “Us being alone together in the same cabin should be enough, but if it’s not, if you need me, just give a holler.”
Alise watched Chief exit the room and cursed herself for the perusal of admiration her eyes took down his large frame. Devouring him with her eyes, that’s what she was doing, and it was ridiculous.
When the door closed, she fisted her hands hard, shook her arms, and did an internal shriek of frustration. Eyes jerking down, she looked to see where she’d torn her dress, and her cheeks flamed at the rip at the seam near her ribs that ran down and back leaving a gaping hole over one panty-clad butt cheek. And of course, she couldn’t be wearing a sexy red thong or pink lacey number. Nope! To look good in the dress, she’d gone for her old reliable nude-colored Spanx. Any man would assume she was wearing granny panties because guys didn’t know about things like shapewear.
“Fuck my life,” she muttered as she rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom.
When she got inside the bathroom, she slammed to a halt in front of the mirror, her eyes bugging out.
“Great, great! Thanks, God!” She threw a peace sign up to the heavens and shook her head in dismay as she eyed her reflection. Her eyeliner and mascara were smeared all down her cheeks from where she’d been crying, and her bright red lipstick was smudged. She looked like the Harley Quinn from Suicide Squad. Worse, there were branches and twigs and… Squinting, she leaned in closer to the mirror and picked something out of her hair before pulling it down to study it.
“Yuuuup!” She popped on the ‘p’ as she eyed the pinecone she’d just plucked from her tangled mess of locks. Dead eyes lifting to her reflection again she turned to the side and eyed her exposed backside.
“Yeah! You’re a real fucking siren, Alessandra.”
***
Downstairs, Chief crossed to the phone on the table, but his feet slowed to a halt when he saw the bits and pieces it was in.
“Shhhhhit!”
Yeah, his temper often got the better of him, and he’d wrecked his fair share of shit and paid the consequences later. Now though it super sucked because he didn’t even have a cell phone. He didn’t need one. He had zero family, zero friends, and zero pack.
Eying the door, he knew he couldn’t leave to go hunt down a phone either because putting distance between himself and Alise would hurt her.
Fuck!
Glancing upstairs, he wondered if Alise had a cell phone. Thinking about her sexy-as-fuck dress though, he knew there was really no place for her to keep one unless it was tucked into her bra. Her bra. That got him thinking about that tattoo of hers that he’d traced with his finger. Fuck, her skin had been so soft. The softest thing he’d ever touched. Ever! Wondering if all her skin was that soft had his cock straining against his zipper.
“Shhhhhit!” Scrubbing a hand down his face, Chief lowered his gaze and stared hard at the wall. If this wasn’t a true stricken, it sure as shit felt like one. Well, he assumed it did. He hadn’t ever been stricken and wasn’t close with anyone who had been, but right now the need to go up to the loft and bury himself between Alise’s thighs was beating inside him like a damn war drum. Worse, he’d been sporting a boner since he’d carried her up to the room. His inner wolf had gotten the wrong idea about them taking her up and hell if the man wasn’t on board with his beast’s train of thought. Which was odd. A she-wolf was what his beast had been demanding. Hell, his animal hadn’t even held one ounce of interest in Grace during the pack battles, but he’d been unwilling to step down when he’d realized she was human. He’d tried to save face and look where that had gotten him. Here!
Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he lifted his head and narrowed his eyes on the doorway at the top of the stairs. He was practically drooling over Alise.
Turning from the stairs, he stalked to the sofa and dropped onto it. Concentrating, he poured his energy into something more useful. Attempting to contact Dell BlackBird through pack ties would be epically hard. Still, it wouldn’t be as hard as the erection throbbing in his jeans.
Shifting uncomfortably, Chief adjusted himself as he narrowed his focus and attempted something he’d never done before. He sought out a connection with another wolf-shifter.
Dell’s snarl carried to him weakly through the pack ties, and though it was extremely faint, it was something.
“Who in the fuck is this?”
Feeling sheepish and a lot out of his element, Chief rushed out, “Dell, it’s me, Chief SpeaksThunder. I’m at StoneCrow, and I’ve got a problem.”
“Chief? Jesus fuck man, how the hell are you coming through my pack ties?
“Dunno, I wasn’t even sure it’d work.”
>
There was a snort before Dell stated, “Probably only working because I’m close to you. My mate and I are in Great Falls, it’s just a short jaunt from StoneCrow. We’re here for a weekend getaway, so this had better be good! What the hell do you want?”
“I’ve been stricken.”
There was a pulse of silence before Dell drawled, “Aaaaand?”
“I need to know if Monroe StoneCrow can make it happen. I don’t know if this is real or one of his fucking games.”
“Who’s the woman? A Skin Walker?”
“No,” Chief answered. “She’s human. Alessandra Marie Crane. Alise,” he clarified.
“Why in the hell do you think Monroe would intentionally bind you to a human?”
“I don’t know. Something he said when it happened. Plus the convenience of it all after I was just in the pack battles. I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around why he wanted me here at StoneCrow. I don’t like games and I sure as fuck don’t play ‘em. I got no idea what the fuck is going on or why, but Alise is caught in the middle and Beast ain’t happy.”
A chuffed laugh carried across the ties before Dell said, “Sounds real to me. You’re already protective of her. How long has it been? When were you stricken?”
Chief glanced at the window. “A few hours.”
“Fuck,” Dell sounded tired when he answered. “I don’t know if Monroe’s capable of initiating a bond. I’m sure if he could, he’d use it to his advantage, but it seems like shit timing to me. Our alliance is in its infancy, Chief. Him betraying us now doesn’t fit with the calculating prick we all know him to be.”
“Then what?” Chief asked.
“Maybe it’s real. Have you considered that?”
“She’s human,” Chief muttered looking to the top of the stairs to ensure Alise wasn’t standing there. While the conversation was happening telepathically, he was worried about Alise knowing he was once again berating her for something beyond her control.
“There are worse things,” Dell growled across the ties. “My Chloe was human, man.”
“Yeah, but you’re not…”
“Not what?” Dell asked. “Not Alpha enough? Not fierce enough? Or just not like you?”
Yeah, that. But Chief didn’t say it.
“I know your wolf has other ideas on what it wants, but you gotta understand that the animal is terrified of possessing something so beautiful and delicate. Beasts don’t believe they’re meant for beauty. They’re wrong. And this is where you need to start teaching him that. If it is real, you’ll know it, and you’ll have to convince your wolf that it’s okay to believe it. Hell, he probably already believes it but is holding back because he thinks he’s protecting you. You need to get on board. Christ, just trust each other! Don’t keep yourself from having this.” He chuckled, “As if you could. Like I said, if it’s real, you’ll know it. You’ll both know it. Have faith, brother. Give Alise a chance. She could fix you from the inside out if you let her. It’s what mates do. They make us into the shifters we were meant to be. Don’t go throwing that away just because you have it in your head that your beast could only handle a she-wolf. You’ll regret it if you let your true mate walk, I promise you that. Trust, Chief. Do that, and the rest will come in time.”
This was really starting to sound like some Kumbaya bullshit, and it wasn’t why he’d contacted Dell. With a growl, Chief clipped out, “Thanks.”
Severing the tie, he glared at the wall and tagged on, “For nothing.” He didn’t want relationship advice. He wanted to know if Monroe StoneCrow was capable of fucking with a wolf shifter’s mating. Now all he could think about was what Dell had said about not letting Alise slip through his fingers. He had to think about it because whether he’d admit it or not, he respected the hell out of Dell BlackBird. The Alpha of the great northwest pack was as good as they came, and Dell had done more than merely mate a human woman. Dell and his mate, Chloe, started out as enemies. Chloe hated Dell, and their relationship hadn’t been easy. It was rumored that Dell was stricken while Chloe blamed him and his family for the death of her brother. Still, they’d somehow managed to make it work.
That had Chief thinking that he and Alise’s little issue of not knowing each other wasn’t that big of a deal after all, especially if he could get himself to accept the fact that she was human.
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees and stared down at his hands. Could it be? Was it possible he’d finally found her?
Inside his chest, his heart started an erratic hammering that was borne of… Holy shit! Was that…was that actual fucking legitimate hope?
Fucking hell!
Watching as his fingers began to tremble, he fisted his hands and drew in a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn’t afford to get ahead of himself right now. Alise deserved for him to investigate this thoroughly. Still, it didn’t stop him from thinking about Dell’s words.
“Sounds real to me. You’re already protective of her. Don’t keep yourself from having this. As if you could. Like I said, if it’s real, you’ll know it. You’ll both know it.”
Did he know it?
Sitting alone, he thought about Alise. He thought about how small she was, how beautiful she was, how damn good she smelled. His gut tightened with the memories, and his palms started sweating. He thought on her words earlier. He thought about how she’d been afraid of him. He shook his head at the realization that he was just as terrified of her. Big bad, out-of-control, Alpha shifter was fucking terrified of a fragile little human.
Scrubbing hand down his face, he breathed, “Ffffffuck!”
Chapter 9
Alise woke surprised that she’d even been able to fall asleep. Instantly, the events of the night before plowed into her, and she pinched her eyes shut as her gut tightened. Pulling the covers up to her chin, her nose was instantly flooded with that familiar scent that did funny things to her belly. The blankets smelled like a mixture of frost and smoke. If Montana had a scent, this would be it, and it was all him…Chief.
Snapping her eyes open, Alise let her head roll to the side where she stared at the pre-dawn light that filtered in through the window and slanted in a beam landing on the hardwood floor. Dust motes danced in the warm rays and Alise watched them a moment as she contemplated where she went from here. Being away from Chief wasn’t an option, yet staying near him had butterflies kicking around in her middle. Worse, the heavy weight of guilt pressed on her chest when she thought about James and how she’d completely ditched out on him last night. Sure, she’d had that attack… No, she’d been stricken. That’s what wolf-shifters called it. She’d been stricken and unable to keep her word to save a dance for James, and she couldn’t even go to him now or even see him, not unless she got Chief to agree. Yeah, like that would ever happen. She didn’t know much about Chief, but one thing she knew for certain already was that he was definitely the jealous type. No, not jealous. Her brows furrowed in thought. She’d read somewhere that men were only jealous of things others had that they wished they had too. They grew territorial though when others attempted to take something the man already considered his. In Chief’s eyes, Alise was already his—at least until he proved Monroe had set this up somehow. So where did that leave her?
Rolling onto her side, she pulled her knees up, eyes still on the dancing motes. Stuck in the middle.
Worry filled her, and she hated it. She hated worrying and being afraid and right now she was both, and it was suffocating. She’d been hurt before by a man who couldn’t love, and she’d been stuck for a really long time staring at herself in the mirror and trying to see in herself the same flaws he’d so readily pointed out. It had taken her a long time to learn how to toughen up, to learn to see herself again through her own eyes. She’d pulled herself up off her knees by her own damn hair and she sure as hell wasn’t cowing now, not for any man. She refused to let it happen every again because she wasn’t flawed. And she sure as hell wasn’t perfect, but she always tried to be kind, and o
vercoming her self-doubt and fear had been damn near impossible. Being swamped by both now felt like a thousand steps backward. It felt like re-writing her past, and she wasn’t about that. She didn’t like looking backward, she wasn’t going that way.
Crawling from the bed, Alise was determined to not fall back into the hole she’d spent so damn long digging herself out of.
Crossing to the bathroom, she used the facilities, washed her hands and face, and brushed with a new toothbrush she found in the drawer. She’d showered last night to get all the forest crud from her hair and had braided her long tresses into a damp twist before slipping on one of Chief’s oversized t-shirts and a pair of his boxers that she’d had to knot at the side just to keep from sliding off.
Re-braiding her hair, she eyed her clothes and wondered what she was supposed to wear. Obviously, she couldn’t traipse around the cabin in Chief’s oversized clothes, but she couldn’t get back into her ripped dress either. Looking behind the door for a robe, she found none, so she went to search the bedroom. Nope, nada!
Shit! She considered hiding out in the room until Chief came to find her but decided she was braver than that. Besides, her skin was itching, and she knew it wasn’t from last night’s soapy shower. No, this was that need to be near Chief that was starting to feel like caffeine withdrawals.
Sucking in a breath, she threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin haughtily, like wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung practically to her knees and hid the boxers beneath was the height of fashion.
Jerking the door open, the scent of food slammed into her and had her belly instantly growling. It smelled really good like coffee and bacon and Alise realized she hadn’t eaten anything last night at the reception. She was ravenous.
Taking the stairs slowly, she looked around for Chief, and when she didn’t immediately see him, her steps grew more relaxed.
On the table was a plate with a towel over it and a note that read, ‘On the porch getting some air. Eat.’
“Eat,” she mouthed mockingly as she pulled a face and bowed her arms out like she was a big burly guy.