Werewolves & Whiskers: Sawtooth Peaks Wolf Shifter Romance Box Set

by Keira Blackwood

  “When I’m ready to share, you’ll be the first to know. And, Cole, you’ve already met her.” Dropping my feet to the floor, I headed for the door.

  “Hey, wait. Not fair,” Cole called after me with a hearty, deep laugh.

  “See you later, brother,” I said, and set out to do what I needed to do. Cole had offered the clarity that I had hoped for. I knew what Trixie needed, what I could do to provide for her, even at a distance. So I set out to make it happen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Trixie

  A mix of pine and leather, Lance’s earthy scent still clung to my skin, and to the pillow next to mine. I rolled across the bed to the place Lance had slept, where Stratton used to sleep, and embraced the traces of my lover that remained.

  With his scent all around me, I pictured Lance’s strong and masculine face. His jaw was square, and covered in a sexy, silver stubble. His features were sharp, but gentle, eyes of endless sea and a perfectly shaped nose. Everything about him was balanced, and that confident yet playful smile drove me wild.

  Guilt hung over me for wishing he was still here, for wishing that I could give myself to him, mind and body without reservation. It was me who had asked him to go, and I knew that Stratton would have only wanted my happiness. The more time I spent with Lance, the more I wanted to be with him, the more I knew he could offer me that happiness. I needed to figure out how to leave my baggage behind before I could fully embrace the man who had shown me kindness and lit me aflame like no other. If he could truly still want me when I was ready. Remaining in this bed was a good start, one Lance had given me strength to accomplish. If he hadn’t come in with me, I would have slept on the sofa, afraid to be here.

  Something on the floor caught my eye, so I inched over to see what it was. Lance’s jacket, clothes, and shoes lay on the carpet beside the bed. It hadn’t occurred to me that I had sent him out into the blistery night without his clothes. I reached in and checked the pockets of the leather jacket and the jeans. There was no phone or keys. Was he able to get in his truck and drive home? Without clothes? Or was he forced to travel in wolf form to preserve warmth, while leaving his truck behind?

  I reached to the nightstand and grabbed my phone. Quickly pressing the buttons, I started to dial. Then I forced myself to stop. It would be so easy to call and ask him back with his clothes on my floor, a convenient excuse to see him again. When I heard his voice would I have the willpower required to ask him to keep his distance? Part of me wished I had just called, the rational part told me to send a text.

  I just realized that I sent you away without clothes. I’m sorry.

  A few moments later, a text came back: I made it home fine. Don’t worry, Trixie.

  Then he added, You can leave them at the inn if you don’t want them at your place.

  I hadn’t said I didn’t want them here. Did he not want to see me or had he taken it personally when I had sent him away? Of course he had taken it personally, who wouldn’t?

  I don’t want to send them away, I replied. I didn’t want to send him away.

  Then keep them until you’re ready to see me. I miss you already, Trixie.

  Again, Lance surprised me with his warmth. He had every right to be upset with me, but instead he was kind. The temptation to call and beg him to return was hard to ignore.

  I miss you too, I returned.

  I climbed out of bed and folded his clothes, and set them neatly in a pile next to the dresser, on top of his boots. The worn, black leather jacket looked like something Lance had been wearing for a long time. The color had faded along the seams, and one pocket had a hole in the bottom. I touched the leather to my face, cool and soft, and full of his scent. He could lend me strength, but I needed to do a few things for myself before I could be ready.

  First I showered and followed the routine I had repeated every day before Dashiell. I shaved my legs, washed and blow-dried my hair. The woman who looked back at me from the mirror was not the broken shell who had hidden from her life, but she wasn’t the woman she had been either. My face was thin, too thin. My body, too. Rib and collar bones showed through my skin where the definition had been softer before. My skin was dull, and lacked the healthy glow it used to have. Remembering that I had to take one day at a time, I dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt that reminded me of Lance’s eyes, and jeans that hung loosely from my too-thin body, then boots and a coat to walk to the shed. Inside, there was a stack of empty totes.

  I carried two back and dug through Stratton’s dresser. I couldn’t move on if I treated my life like he was going to walk back through that door and wonder where his favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt was. He would not be coming back at all. I stacked his clothes in a tote. It wasn’t the same as throwing them away; maybe someone else could get good use out of them. I could donate them later, but today I would take them out of my bedroom.

  There wasn’t much: three pairs of jeans, one pair of suit pants, socks and underwear, a few t-shirts, and one dress shirt folded with a single tie. It didn’t seem like enough of a footprint for a good man to leave behind. There should have been a monument or something that said Stratton Walker was a good man and a strong alpha. All who’d lost their lives under Dashiell’s reign deserved a memorial, something that said they were more to Ellistown than a few boxes in their families’ sheds.

  When I found the thin, overused, black Rolling Stones t-shirt in my hands, I didn’t have the heart to put it in the box. Instead I set it on the bed next to Lance’s jacket. That shirt I had to keep.

  I carried the boxes to the shed and felt a weight lifted. It had been easier than I’d expected to pack up Stratton’s things. There wasn’t more sadness for his loss than there had been before I moved the clothes, only the same knowledge that he was gone. But now I didn’t have the constant reminder of how it was—the weight of expecting him to come back and pick up where we had left off. Stratton would always be a part of me, the friend and partner that I had lost. But if I could accept that I needed to move beyond his everyday presence in my life, maybe I could make space for Lance. Maybe I wouldn’t have to run from the overwhelming mix of warmth and longing I felt for him.

  I brushed my teeth and threw Stratton’s toothbrush away, reminding myself that he wouldn’t need it. Before I left, I slid Stratton’s t-shirt over my smaller long-sleeved one, and traded my trench for Lance’s leather jacket. I felt a little closer to the two men who had been good to me. I hoped to borrow their strength when I returned later to the mansion to check on Mara.

  First though, I needed to check on the rest of the girls. Since my attention had been focused on Lance, I didn’t know who had returned to their homes or if the girls would still be sharing a room at the inn.

  Instead of walking throughout town checking each of their houses, I decided the most efficient course would be to start at the inn.

  As I approached the long, wooden building, I caught the familiar scent of grizzly. I was unsure whether or not I should be glad that the scent no longer made my hair stand on end. Was it a good thing to become accustomed to grizzlies? Or was it just the one bear that no longer made me completely uneasy?

  Liam Blake walked up the hall toward the desk when I entered. The huge, gruff shifter looked me over, eyes lingering on Lance’s jacket, and wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air.

  “Trixie Walker,” he said, without expression.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Looking for breakfast?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered. “I’m looking for my companions. Are they here, or did they return to their houses?”

  “You should eat breakfast,” he replied. “And yes, yellow dress is here.”

  “Fleur,” I corrected.

  “Fleur,” he said. “She’s at the end of the hall.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, then headed that way. I felt Blake’s eyes follow me until I rounded the corner.

  The door at the end of the hall was open, and boxes blanketed the bed and flo
or. Fleur dug through a box on the bed and pulled out a can of peaches, Mara’s favorite.

  “Good morning, Fleur,” I said. “What’s all of this?”

  “You don’t know?” she asked, smiling at me with her full lips painted red.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Your friend brought these when he brought the house supplies yesterday,” she said. “It’s food and toiletries, tons of it.”

  “Why didn’t I see it yesterday?” I asked. I had been in here that morning, and had brought the girls out with me. There were no boxes anywhere, here or in the lobby.

  “Liam and I moved them in here this morning, since no one is staying in this room anymore. He and Lance had set them in the dining room, but there’s nowhere to eat if it’s full of boxes.”

  I bent down and lifted the cardboard flap on top of the box, and examined its contents. There were loaves of bread stacked inside, loaves and loaves of fresh bread.

  “You mentioned the dining room,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, want to see?”

  I followed Fleur down the hall and past the lobby, where Liam Blake sat silently behind the desk. Fleur waved at Blake fondly as we passed; then we continued down the other hall.

  The crowd of people packed into the tiny room was overwhelming. Neighbors stood elbow to elbow, smiling as they chatted with each other. The dining room wasn’t anything special, folding tables and chairs were spread through a small room, and every seat was filled. What impressed me most was the long banquet tables against the far wall covered in disposable dishes, bottles of juice, packages of muffins, fresh fruit, hardboiled eggs, toast and butter, and even a pot of fresh coffee. Some food sat on serving plates, while packages containing more sat behind each dish. Had Lance done all of this? He’d done this for my people without even mentioning it? My heart warmed and my stomach growled. I remembered the reflection of the hard, thin woman who had looked back at me in the mirror, and joined the line to fill a plate.

  People turned and looked at me as I picked my food—an egg, toast with butter, and a Golden Delicious apple. Was I gathering attention because I looked different with my hair cared for, or simply because I was the widow of the late alpha? Fleur led me to a table full of women from the hotel room, the women from my cell. Anika smiled up at me from her seat, then stood and offered me her place.

  “I can stand,” I said.

  “Please,” she replied. “I’m already done eating.”

  “Thanks.” I sat, and sank my teeth through the skin of the crisp, juicy apple.

  Everyone ate, but I could feel their eyes.

  Then silent Sierra said, “Thank you for this.”

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard her speak. Had I ever? The petite brunette hadn’t spoken in the cell or since, at least not in my presence. I just stared at her.

  “For the houses, for the food,” she said and looked back down at the muffin on her plate. She took a small bite and smiled.

  “I didn’t do this,” I said.

  “You brought him here,” Fleur said, “your friend.”

  “I appreciate that he brought all of this,” I said, “but it wasn’t something I set up.”

  “Everyone knows we eat because of you,” Fleur replied. “Maybe not because you set it up or twisted any arms, but you got us food and building supplies one way or another. You encouraged us to work together. Like it or not, we look to you.”

  I looked around the room and caught the gazes of Billy and Mrs. Moore, each of the girls who had shared my cell. I saw the gazes of others I didn’t even know, and lastly of Liam Blake at the door. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t their alpha, I hadn’t even personally brought their supplies, yet everyone looked to me. How could I carry that weight without letting them down? I had no idea, so I continued on the food that Lance had brought for me, and wished Mara was here. She should have been a part of this, of our community.

  I finished my food, feeling fuller than I had for as long as I could remember, then grabbed a blueberry streusel muffin and a can of peaches. I said goodbye to the girls at the table, and set out toward the mansion alone.

  The icy air felt harsher than it had before breakfast. Was it colder, or did it just feel that way because I was going from the warmth of the community and the room to frigid isolation? I took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweetness of the blueberry muffin, the leather of the jacket, and the scent of Lance that lingered on it. Could I be everything the pack and the town needed me to be? I hoped so.

  The sight of the tall brick building up close made my stomach sick, making me regret eating the wonderful breakfast. I found unfamiliar faces inside: hardened, scarred shifters that seemed to have taken residence with my brother. The men watched me as I entered, and said nothing. I headed through the long halls toward the library, where I expected to find my brother. Around a corner, Mara caught me by surprise.

  “Mara,” I said.

  She wore her own clothes, those that I had brought her. I recognized the skinny jeans and sweater that hung loosely off of her.

  “Trixie,” she said, then turned and looked at the thick-shouldered man who shadowed her. I hadn’t noticed him before she turned. Was he her guard or captor? It wasn't clear.

  “I brought you these,” I said, and handed Mara the peaches and muffin.

  “A fresh muffin,” she said. “Wow, thank you.”

  I linked my elbow with hers and led her to the bottom of the staircase where we sat. I wanted to make sure she ate the muffin while I was here to be certain it wasn't stolen. The guard lowered his brow at me as he watched us, but I ignored him and kept my gaze on my sister-in-law.

  “How are you holding up?” I asked.

  “I’m,” she started, then paused. “Okay.”

  “You’re still welcome at my place,” I offered, and the guard growled. “We closed the hole and fixed the electricity. I had help. Everyone is banding together to rebuild. You should come and see.”

  “I need to stay here,” she said.

  “My mate chooses to stay here with me.” Troy sauntered into the hall from the office. He looked well in his black dress pants and white, button-down shirt. He looked healthy, unlike Mara.

  “Hello, Troy,” I said.

  “Did you bring food for me?” he asked, looking down at Mara, who cupped her muffin in both hands.

  “There’s food for all, down at the inn,” I replied, though my brother looked well-fed already.

  “Bears finally bring in supplies?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Hmmm. I have news to share, and you’re exactly the right witness to hear it,” Troy said, standing stiff and looking down at me, “given the identity of your dead mate.”

  I just stared at him. How my twin had become so cold I didn’t know, but I worried for him, and for Mara.

  “I, Troy Lynch, claim alpha of Sawtooth Valley.”

  I gazed into my twin brother’s eyes, that looked so much like my own, and wondered why. Why would he want to be alpha of this broken pack? And why did the idea make me sick all over again?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trixie

  Long strides took me out the door quickly and into the cold, distancing me from my brother. What would he do with alpha? There was little left to protect, few left to manage. No one would respect him, someone that had worked with Dashiell, for whatever reason. I needed someone to talk to, someone outside of the pack, someone that I could entrust with my feelings without fear of backlash.

  The phone was against my ear before I realized I had dialed.

  “Trixie?” His familiar voice warmed me from the inside out. Just hearing the way he said my name was a comfort. I pictured his soft, sensual lips speaking my name.

  “Lance,” I replied. “Is it an okay time?” I kept my feet moving, heading away from Troy.

  “I’m happy to hear from you anytime. Are you okay?” he asked, with concern in his voice.

  “Kind of,” I answered. �
�Yes. I’m not in any immediate danger.”

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “It’s my brother,” I said.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “It’s just, he’s claimed alpha.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked.

  “You don’t know Troy,” I answered.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “We’re twins,” I replied. It seemed as good of a place to start as any. “We’ve never been much alike, though. People tend to assume that littermates are similar, but not me and Troy.”

  “How so?” Lance asked.

  “He was unkind to me as a child, which I know many siblings are. And he never grew out of it.”

  “Did he do something to you just now?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered. “But I worry about his motivation. I know it’s a terrible thing to feel about my brother, but he’s a selfish man and I worry what he will do with his power. I worry for Mara, his mate.”

  “He hasn’t earned a right to make you feel only good thoughts toward him just because you share blood. Has he hurt your sister-in-law?” Lance asked.

  “I don’t know exactly what happened between Troy and Mara the night that Dashiell came,” I said. “All I know is that she ended up in the cell with me, discarded, and he held a room in the mansion. Maybe he threw her there, maybe he just let her be taken. I don’t know.”

  “Both are terrible. Do you think he’ll hurt her now?” he asked.

  “I think he’s using her so he can claim alpha. Making her stay with him, though she won’t admit it.”

  “Will he let you see her?” he asked.

  “Yes, but not alone.”

  “Hmmm, I’m not sure what I can do to help. It sounds like we’re stuck until we find some kind of evidence that she wants to leave or that he’s harming her in some way,” Lance said.

  “Yes. I agree, but it helps to have someone to talk to,” I admitted.