by Renee Rose
I licked my lips and nodded. Somehow I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. They might not want me on their land, and were mad that I’d snuck on, but they were here specifically because they wanted me. Knew where I’d be and, generally, when. They’d been waiting for me.
“That punishment? It’s the kind you’ll enjoy receiving as much as we enjoy giving it.”
I stilled. Frowned. “Huh?”
“Eventually,” Landry added with a sexy flick of his brows. “Since we do things in pairs around here.”
All I could do was gulp as my panties went up in flames.
2
WADE
Two Weeks Earlier
I sat in my parked pickup, trying to formulate a plan. Searching online records—some public, some private—I’d located the human my alpha ordered me to investigate. The one who requested access to our pack land. Caitlyn Shriver, the post-doc wolf biologist at Granger State, my alma mater. Age twenty-seven. Cute, judging by her college and motor vehicle IDs.
I was parked across the street from her apartment, deciding my next move.
On paper, Dr. Shriver didn't look dangerous. Hell, she was a tiny thing. No threat to me or mine. Physically. But her request to chip and track wolves on Two Marks pack land raised all kinds of red flags. Gibson, the alpha, was in Montana with Ben to track down their mate. Before Gib left, he’d read Caitlyn’s email and responded. He’d told her no way to her request, then asked me to investigate her and ensure she wasn’t going to be a problem. Because a wolf researcher interested in tagging and tracking wolves was bad.
My phone rang. It was Ben, the pack enforcer. He normally would have handled this task, not me. But since he and Gib were scent-matches, he was in Montana too.
“Hey, Wade,” he said when I answered.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Good. We found our mate.” His voice was so upbeat, it sounded like he won the lottery. Maybe he had.
“So I heard,” I replied. “Congratulations.”
“Well, she’s going to take a little convincing, but we’re working on it,” he said. “I’m calling to check on that wolf biologist situation.”
I quietly sighed. He didn’t need to know that I wasn’t thrilled about my upcoming task. “Yeah. I’m on it. I’m actually down in Granger right now, figuring out my next move.”
“Good. See if you can find out what her research is about. The last thing we need is something that will fuel the rancher’s quest to put wolves on the trophy game list in these parts.”
That meant anyone in the Two Marks pack would be in danger if they were in wolf form.
“Yeah.” My chest constricted painfully. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
“Of course not.” Ben’s voice softened as he probably realized that I, of all people, probably had the biggest stake in making sure wolves were never hunted in our county. “Sorry. I spoke without thinking.”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. The last thing I fucking needed was people feeling sorry for me. Fate knew I’d had enough of that since the shooting eight years ago. I’d lost my mother; my dad had lost his mate. The pain of it still caught me off guard at times. The pack, too.
Because of that, the alpha was adamant about our safety, meaning: no outsiders, and monitoring the ranchers or anyone else who might endanger our way of life.
Including Dr. Caitlyn Shriver.
She might not be a danger, but she was a threat. Her research could impact us. Our way of life—the shifter life—had been a secret since the West family settled and founded West Springs, Wyoming, in the late 1800s. Making wolves trophy game as a result of some population study she was working on could be disastrous. We could die for what some considered sport shooting.
In her email, she’d mentioned that the mountains around West Springs were known wolf territory, with multiple sightings of a pack reported in the past ten years. If her research showed the reintroduction of grey wolves into the area had created over-population and the packs need to be thinned, the Fish and Game Department could change their designation. That would be disastrous for the lesser wolves but, more importantly, dangerous for shifters.
Something I unfortunately knew all too well.
“Well, what I’ve dug up on her so far hasn’t put me at ease,” I admitted to Ben. “She’s been microchipping wolves across Wyoming, and at least two of the wolves she’s chipped have been killed. It could be a coincidence. Wolf biologists generally have the good of the wolf population at the heart of their studies, but you never know.”
“You think she’s tagging them, then going back and shooting them?” he asked.
I sighed, and was sure he could hear it through the phone. “If she’s a good enough shot to tranq the animals, she could just kill them with a rifle then and there. Why go to all the trouble? It makes no sense.”
“Well, get close to her. Maybe sit down to have a conversation, if you can do it without alerting her about our particular interest in her studies.”
That had been my thinking. “Yeah, that’s my plan. I’m watching her place now, looking for an opportunity.”
“Okay, report back after you’ve made contact,” Ben said.
“Will do. Have fun with your mate. What’s her name, by the way?”
“Shelby.” The word came out almost reverently. “She’s incredible. Yeah. We’re having fun. We probably won’t make it back for a couple weeks.”
“Landry has things under control,” I assured him before I disconnected. Landry was our alpha’s younger brother, and my scent-match. He was in charge while Gib was away.
Despite my assurances, I didn’t know what I was doing there. My job was head of IT for the distillery. I handled any computer related issues for the pack, as well. My research usually consisted of online stalking, and light hacking when necessary. In person confrontations or investigations weren’t my forte.
Was I just going to knock on Caitlyn’s door and demand she leave the wolves in West Springs alone? I sat behind a computer. I wasn’t an enforcer, like Ben. I hoped they didn’t expect me to intimidate this little slip of a scientist. To threaten her. I didn’t have it in me, even if she could be a problem. Although, if she had any involvement in killing wolves, then…
The front door of the small housing unit opened, and my gaze snapped to the slim figure coming out. I sighed in relief, because this made things easier. I recognized Caitlyn immediately. She tugged the lapels of her jean jacket closed against the evening chill—a cool night for this late in June—as she stepped outside.
I waited a few beats, then slid out of the truck and shut the door, following her at a distance. When she stepped inside the neighborhood microbrewery a half a block down, I adjusted my cowboy hat, waited for a car to pass, then crossed the street. I figured I could use a drink, anyway. As long as Caitlyn wasn’t meeting someone here, this might be the perfect opportunity to have that casual chat without getting her guard up. Learn her intentions for her research. Steer her far away from our wolves.
Send her somewhere other than Two Marks pack land.
The place was crowded, the twang of country music filled the air. I wasn’t the only one wearing a Stetson. Most men, and a few women, wore them. At least I fit in with my cowboy look. It took a few seconds of scanning to find her. Caitlyn sat at the bar, chatting with the bartender like she was a regular. I left one barstool between us when I sat down and caught the server’s eye. “What’s on tap?”
“I’ve got a lager, a pilsner, and a pale ale,” the tattooed young man said, sliding a cocktail napkin in front of me.
“I’ll take the lager.” I stole a glance at Caitlyn’s profile. In her photos, she looked cute. Friendly and approachable. But I saw now she wasn’t just cute—she was drop-dead gorgeous.
Holy shit.
Her long bronze hair was burnished with red and gold, and her skin was smooth and flawless. She was a lithe, slender thing, but that made her no less feminine. She was soft in all the right plac
es.
But I wasn’t here to admire the human. I was here to handle her as Gib and Ben wanted.
I took a deep breath. Over the tang of spilled beer and greasy French fries, I caught her scent.
It taunted and tempted me, making me want to lean in from where I sat. To move closer and fill my nostrils with it. When the bartender slid the beer in front of me, I took a swallow, then set it back down so it wouldn’t interfere with my olfactory senses.
“Steak salad, please,” Caitlyn murmured to the bartender, pushing the one-page menu across the bar at him although she didn’t seem to have even looked at it.
“Is it good?” I asked. Not my best opening, but picking up women in bars wasn’t really my thing. Shifters didn’t need to have a strategy. With female shifters, it was easy. She wanted a fuck, and we gave it to her. It took the edge off of the full moon high. Nothing more. There was no attachment, no heart involvement, because we knew up front we weren’t mates. Sex was just that. Sex.
Landry—my scent-match—and I had pleasured women after those full-moon runs, but I’d never screwed around on my own. Especially not with a human.
Not that I was trying to pick up Caitlyn. I was here on business. I’d been entrusted with a serious pack problem, and I needed to act accordingly.
Focus. Find out her plans, steer her away from our land.
Damn, the idea of picking her up appealed to me, though. Watching as her pupils dilated with need. Noticing when her delectable scent changed to be laced with her dripping arousal.
I took another breath. Fuck. My dick went hard, and I shifted on my stool. She hadn’t even looked at me yet.
Then she did, and I was in more trouble than I’d been in getting my paw caught in that old bear trap when I was nineteen.
She offered a dazzling smile that I sure as hell didn’t deserve. “I love it. It’s what I always get.” A teasing brow quirked as she looked me over. I shifted again, hoping she didn’t see how my dick was outlined beneath my jeans. “You don’t strike me as the salad type, though.”
I grinned back. It was impossible not to. “I eat my vegetables,” I bragged, tipping my hat back. “But you’re right. I’d rather have the whole steak. Do they serve that?”
She reached across the bar and grabbed the menu, pushing it my way. “They do, and it’s delicious. It comes with the best gourmet mashed potatoes you’ve ever tasted—and broccoli.”
I didn’t bother reading the offerings. “Sounds like a winner.” I lifted my chin at the bartender who still hovered nearby. “I’ll have the steak. Rare.”
A man moved between us to talk to the bartender and I gritted my teeth, wishing I’d chosen the seat beside Caitlyn. I stifled the growl that wanted to escape my chest, to tell the guy that he needed to fuck off, even if he was only closing out his tab.
I didn’t like another male getting close to her. Or between us.
Caitlyn shifted her purse away, and her keys dropped to the floor.
I moved before she could, stooping to pick them up. “You like wolves?” I asked, running my thumb over the metal wolf on her keychain.
The guy turned, and I moved back so he could leave. Then I tugged my barstool closer so no one else could get in my way.
“Caitlyn studies wolves,” the bartender offered.
Shit, that hadn’t worked. I wanted to punch his teeth in. Didn’t he have other customers to help?
Please tell me she was not involved with this fucker.
I shook my head to clear it. What in the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t actually here to pick up Caitlyn. To keep her safe, and away from other males. To keep their scent off her. To put mine on her.
No.
I was here on pack business. To assess how big a problem she was going to be.
Not to get in her pants.
I definitely didn’t want to get in her pants.
Oh, fuck. Yes, I did. I really wanted to peel those tight jeans down her slender hips and see everything inside them. To push her over the barstool so that tight ass was upturned. Spank it. Then get down on my knees behind her, and taste every drop of her sweet honey. Because I knew she was sweet. Everywhere. I could smell it.
“You study wolves, eh?” I tried to sound casual, to keep the wolf out of my voice.
She nodded, tucking her long hair behind her ear. I wondered if it was as silky as it looked. Whether she’d cream if I wrapped it around my fingers and held on as I fucked her from behind.
“Yep. Wolf biologist.”
I blinked… and took a sip of my beer.
“Are you in graduate school?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. She’d gotten her PhD from Montana State, and moved here to do her post doc.
She wasn’t just a pretty face. She was fucking smart too.
“I’m a research scientist,” she answered, gripping the stem of her wine glass and swirling the burgundy liquid inside. “I’m studying wolf mating patterns.”
I could show you a thing or two about wolf mating…
Fuck. I took another deep swig from my pint glass and digested what she’d said. Mating patterns. That might be okay. It wasn’t population growth.
“Really? So, how do you study them? Out in the wild?”
She took a sip of wine, angling her knees in my direction for the conversation. It was obvious this was something she was passionate about, that lit her up. “Yes. I chip them so we can track their territorial and mating habits. We’re looking at pack growth since the reintroduction of the grey wolf in the nineties.”
Fuck. That was definitely not what I wanted to hear.
“We?” I asked.
She offered a small eye roll. “Well, me. But my boss is closely monitoring my work.”
“You chip wolves.” I tried to keep the insult out of my voice. It went against my DNA to have an animal tracked and studied. To be nothing but a four-legged piece of data.
Didn’t she know how her research could affect said population? She might be the cause of it thinning back down. Rapidly.
I thought of my mother and I got heartburn, my steak losing its appeal.
She nodded, rewarding our overly friendly bartender with a smile when he brought her steak salad.
“Yours will be right out,” he told me.
It was all I could do not to growl at him to stay the fuck away from her. It had been years since my mother had been killed, but the wound would never heal. The anger was always there. But my inner wolf was still interested in this woman. Wanted her. I was… possessive, and that pissed me off. I was mad at myself.
I couldn’t help it.
At the bartender for being… nice. And a guy. The fucker. I somehow managed a nod before he went off to help someone else.
“How do you chip them?” I prodded, when Caitlyn didn’t elaborate.
She picked up her fork and speared a piece of lettuce. “You know, I just bring doggie treats out—”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline.
“Just kidding.” This time I was treated to her smile, which I swore to Fate could light the night sky. She was damn lucky she was so cute, or I’d have taken offense to her joke. “I tranq them, and then inject a chip to track.”
“You tranq them,” I repeated, blinking. Memories of my mother’s blood staining the earth crowded my mind. Realizing my fists were clenched, I slowly forced myself to relax. But that had me deep breathing, which filled me with her fucking sweet scent. Which agitated me in an entirely different way.
Focus, Wade.
“Yes.” She took a bite of her salad, chewed.
“How many people on your team? How many wolves do you chip at a time?”
She scooted her barstool closer to speak over the growing din, her expression bright. Obviously, she loved to talk about her work. “My team? It’s just me. It can take weeks for me to find even one wolf, but I’m headed into the mountains above the town of West Springs, where I hope to find several. Ever heard of the place?”
I nodded.
“Actually, I live in that area.”
Her eyes flared in surprise, but it was only about sixty miles from here, so not a huge coincidence. “I’m going in two weeks because I heard there’s a whole pack. I’m hoping to get as many as possible. I’ve got to wait until the twelfth, though, when I will have all my supplies.” She didn’t sound keen on waiting, but she was a scientist and, I was sure, wanted everything just so.
My brain struggled, registering two things at once. One was the danger to my pack, and Caitlyn’s plans to head to Two Marks land above West Springs despite Gibson’s denial of her request. That should be my only concern as temporary pack enforcer. Instead, what was pushed to the forefront of my mind was a blinding need to throw this woman over my shoulder and carry her somewhere private.
Somewhere I could get my hands on her bare skin. Taste her. Make her come. As a shifter male who found a female who called to his inner wolf.
Fates, her strawberry-spice scent wrapped around me like an intoxicating noose, tempting me in ways I’d never before experienced. I was in big trouble here.
Ben would be pissed.
“There’s a pack of wolves in West Springs?” I hoped I was keeping my face blank enough.
“Well, not in town,” she said, rolling her eyes once more. “The mountains above there. I believe so, at least. My data and reports from locals support it. Unfortunately, I think they’re on private land up there, and I couldn’t get permission from the owner.” She looked left and right, then leaned in. “But I’m going anyway.”
My brows furrowed.
“I have to,” she explained. “My boss, the lead research scientist, said the grant funding is at risk if I don’t get more chipped by the end of the summer.”
I didn’t like anything about what she’d just said. I also had to find out who the hell her boss was. “So you’re going to trespass on private land?”
She shrugged with a smile. “I know. Naughty me.”
Naughty? Yeah, if she was planning to go onto Two Marks land even though Gib told her no, then she was a bad girl.
I couldn’t just open my mouth and tell her off. That she sure as shit couldn’t go against the alpha’s command. I had no reason for doing so. I’d give away who I was and why I was in town, because without telling her we didn’t want to have shifters—or any wolves, for that matter—chipped and monitored, all I’d appear was creepy.