Alpha Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #2 (Werewolf Shifter Paranormal Romance) (9 page)

Only after he was out of sight did Sara suck in a gasping
breath. Doing her best to ignore the troubled whines of her wolf, she stood for
a long time before she finally could move her leaden feet and walk on.

Chapter
6

Downtown Durango in springtime burst with color, life, and
the energy of newly reawakened people. An intoxicating something or other
filled the warming air with hope and promise. Fresh, bouncy joy and excitement
served to fill the streets with happy chatter and plenty of easy smiles.

Sara tried to latch onto some of that happy la la stuff for
herself as she clicked down the sidewalk in cute little heels, which she wore
often when the weather began to warm up. She knew her blue sundress flattered
her eyes and her body. Regardless, its intended purpose of making her feel
feminine and relaxed wasn't working. At all.

Well, happiness was a darned hard thing to capture when
turmoil and doubt still clouded her mind. Seeing Rafe almost every day for the
past several weeks provided an exercise in maintaining her composure and the
longed-for serious professionalism in the face of his occasionally darkly
tempting glances. She knew she didn't imagine he totally undressed and then
kissed her senseless with his eyes. They simply might be discussing that
night's patrol when he would toss a smoldering look at her and she had to sit
down for fear her quivering legs would wobble too much. But he never extended
the invitation beyond a lingering glance at her body or a long gaze directly into
her eyes. He always simply cocked one eyebrow, as if daring her to respond.

Pushing herself to be as competent and mature as she could,
Sara threw herself one hundred and ten percent into their specified Guardian
time together. She had his back, he had hers, they did their job. They did not,
however, do any more play stalking or sharing of easy conversation. And
frankly, that sucked.

True to his word, he was waiting for her to make up her own
damn mind. Well, she'd made up her mind to focus on being the best pack member
she possibly could. She was the one sticking to her guns. Rafe, however, hadn't
again said another word about being her mate. Nor had he set her on fire again
with his touch. He was very careful not to touch her, except with his completely
leg-quiver-inducing glances. She'd gotten what she asked for.

Then why the hell did that bother her so much?

Sara shook her head and kept walking, shifting her laptop
bag to the other shoulder. Her favorite little coffee shop, the Steaming Bean,
awaited with a hot cuppa, a good online connection, and no distractions in the
form of a sexy but strictly off-limits wolf. She had a research project.
Something to focus on. Work. No play. Drive and focus.

Rafe was like a research project. Now he is not. Silly,
her wolf whispered.

Sara felt the memory of him licking her skin, nibbling her
lip. Three weeks ago, and she was still replaying every move. The broad reach
of his hands as they'd skimmed their way down her flesh, feeling every bit of
her and appreciating all of it in wordless worship. His lips on hers, his
fingers inside her slickness....

Focus. Work. Dammit.

She pushed open the inner screen door to the coffee shop and
stepped in. The soothing smell of coffee, coffee, and more coffee blitzed her
nose. As did the less appetizing smells of people, some washed, some not, and
all sorts of other intriguing scents. The life of shifters in the human world
meant filtering out the multitude of things that could overwhelm their senses.
Sara zeroed in on the intoxicating caffeine scent. Only from a lifetime of
training did she manage to ignore the bombardment of other smells.

Putting in her order, she made her way to a little table in
the back. Mid-morning on a weekday, the place was lightly occupied. She set
down her soft gray leather bag, a gift to herself after she'd decided she
needed to start looking a little more grown up and serious. As she started to
pull back the chair, she jostled the small, dark-haired woman seated at the
table behind her.

“I'm so sorry!” she said quickly.

The woman turned around at her voice and smiled.“Sara! What
are you doing downtown?”

“Rielle! Hi.” Sara felt oddly relieved to find another
shifter in here.

Rielle Amoux lived in town despite being a pack member. A
dedicated clotheshorse, she managed one of the upscale retail stores on the
main drag and mingled with humans more than most shifters. It was common
knowledge her parents, overprotective ever since realizing Rielle would be the
only child they'd ever have, had fussed over and monitored her every move until
she'd finally declared herself fed up and moved as far from the pack as she
dared without incurring disciplinary action. No one faulted her; tremendous
loyalty ensured she'd always be a Pack member. Besides, her official pack job as
a records keeper and researcher meant she could do a lot of her work online,
which also allowed her freedom from the main den.

Smile wide and genuine, Rielle motioned for Sara to join
her.

“Looks like you've got work to do,” the smaller woman said.

“You could say that.” Sara sighed and focused. “I'm looking
into rogue history. If we're going to have an ancillary pack led by a rogue—a
former rogue, I mean—then I just thought it might be a good idea to know more.
I'm a Guardian,” she said with a shrug. “Alpha didn't exactly task me to this,
but it's my job to keep the Pack safe, and knowledge is power. Right?”

Rielle cocked her head at Sara, curiosity lighting her
pretty face.

“I can help you with that, you know. Records and all that.”

A barista set Sara's iced mocha fusion shake, with an extra
shot and a drop of vanilla extract that gave it zing, in front of her. Heaven.

“Hmm. Maybe there's a reason I ran into you.” Sara took
another sip of the mocha. She sighed with pleasure, which catapulted her into a
memory of sighing into Rafe's lips and tongue and hands. Her face flamed just
slightly despite her immediate mental tamping down. She hurried on.

“I want to know as much about them as I can. The history of
rogue rebellions, the political nuances of beginning a new pack, old blood
feuds. Everything.”

Everything.
Her thoughts caromed off in a different
direction. Had she really messed up the possibility of everything? Rafe's mouth
still teased at her thoughts. What a wild, completely wanton woman she'd been
that night. Begging him for more. It was the move of woman who just wanted to
experience everything he had to give. Nothing more. Of course, since it now had
been weeks and she hadn't been to one of the bars or been even remotely
interested in a romp with a town guy or one of the local cowboys, her body was
forcefully reminding her she had some pretty distinct needs.

Needs that Rafe sure knew how to meet.

“Earth to Sara.”

Sara snapped her eyes to Rielle's, face flushing a bit. The
smaller wolf grinned at her and leaned forward.

“That's the look of a woman who's been having some
scandalous thoughts, rather than thoughts about our boring old pack history.”

Sara flicked her eyes around the coffee shop as though
another wolf was eavesdropping on her mind. “Is it that obvious?”

Rielle nodded, a delighted expression still on her face. A
hopeless romantic, she always loved it when pack members got together, although
she'd yet to find her mate. Perhaps that would change soon. Rielle was the type
of wolf who needed a mate.

Sara very definitely didn't.

She ignored her own wolf's mini-sulk of turning her back.

“Very,” Rielle said, teasing grin still in place. “Not to
mention I can smell your reaction to him—and who he is, of course.”

Sara slouched in her chair, slightly mortified. That usually
never bothered her. Well, it never had in the past. Wolves could always sense
one another's arousal, if it was strong enough. Which was why when she and Rafe
had had their—fling—before, they'd kept it tightly under wraps and done their
best to avoid the pack. No one had needed to know about it. But she and Rafe
were on patrol together every several days. The crazy way he turned her on
still happened every single time she was in his presence. It was hard to mask
the relentless attraction.

Dammit.

Sara scratched a nervous finger on the small wooden table
top. “It's pretty recent. And quiet. I'd like to keep it that way.” She looked
up into Rielle's face to impress the firmness of that wish.

Rielle placed a gentle hand over Sara's. “I'd never say
anything. So.” She swiftly changed the subject. “Tell me why you're looking
into rogue and pack history. That way I can narrow down some specifics for
you.”

Keeping her voice steady, Sara continued. “I need to know
more about the rogues because Alpha said we need to welcome them. That's my
motivation there. As for pack history, I'm interested in the starting of new
packs, in particular.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” Rielle said, which didn't at all,
but Sara let her talk. “Let's begin with the rogues, then.” The small dark wolf
settled back in her chair and took on a look reminiscent of older pack members
teaching young wolves about their pack's personal history. Since Rielle was the
same age as Sara, it was amusing to see her pontificating expression.

“Rogues have always been a part of shifter history. People
get rebellious, chafe against restrictions, don't like the pack Alpha, and so
on. So they leave, either quietly on their own, or more dramatically cast out.
Historically, rogues were hunted to the death.” Rielle's voice took on the
cadences of a practiced storyteller.

Sara raised her eyebrows as she took another healthy swig of
the fast-disappearing mocha. The chocolate was hitting her just right. “Sounds
kind of barbaric.”

“Mm-hmm. Then again, we are all beasts inside.”

Rielle's words were straightforward, but she made a funny
face to show she was joking. “These days, of course, we don't kill rogues. But
packs are closed off to them, unless they can show they're ready to be utterly
loyal and work hard again.”

Rielle pushed aside a curly lock of her dark hair and held
up one slender finger. “And, of course, if they can find mates who are willing
to stay with them and bear young to make sure the pack survives. That's the
thing that generally keeps rogues as, well, packless rogues. Most female wolves
aren't about to jeopardize their futures. Unless they really fall in love, of
course.”

Sara nodded. This she already knew.

“So the new rogue-led pack Alpha talked about is sure to be solid,”
Rielle concluded.

“How can that be? They don't have any women yet.”

“Sara.” Rielle's gentle tone was patient. “Our Alpha is
probably one of the smartest alphas in the country. He's definitely one of the
oldest. He's seen it all before. Trust me, no way would he let this pack get
set up without some assurances. There's a woman. Or two. Definitely someone for
that rogue alpha.”

“Luke Rawlins.” Sara heard the skeptical note creep into her
voice. She'd been raised with such a natural suspicion of rogues, she still
wasn't sure how to accept him. Her wolf rumbled a very low growl of agreement.

“Licas Conall Rawlins, actually.” Of course Rielle would
know these details. “He goes by Luke because, really. Licas is a little
old-fashioned. Poor guy.”

All wolf shifters bore names that historically tied into
their unique lineage. But to hear such an old-style name for a modern wolf was
surprising.

“The alpha of his pack is extremely mired in the ancient
ways, as our alpha said.” Rielle sounded mildly fascinated yet clearly
disapproving of the archaic beliefs followed by the rogue's former pack. Sara
shivered a little at the thought. A pack led by that cruel and potentially
crazy of an alpha was destined to create nothing but chaos. She just hoped none
of it would touch the Black Mesa Pack. Deep inside, her wolf whined.

“At any rate,” Rielle said, “I'm sure there's a wolf out
there who's already chosen Luke for a mate. Whether or not he knows it yet.”

“You think? I don't know. I saw him that night, the first
night he was here, when I was with Lily and Kieran.” And Rafe, she added
silently. That little tightening in her belly and groin surged up again in
reminder that just thinking his name could get her body to react. “He was so
arrogant. I can't imagine many pack females here wanting that.”

“It might not be someone from our pack,” Rielle pointed out,
pragmatic as ever.

“Hmm. Could be right,” Sara mused. “I suppose we'll find
out. As long as Caleb doesn't smash his face in first,” she added with a laugh.
Caleb's fighting tendencies were legendary. He'd also made no secret of the
fact he strongly disapproved of rogues in general and Luke in particular.

Rielle wrinkled her nose, which looked oddly delicate on her
very feminine face. “He's such a barbarian.”

Sara raised her eyebrows a bit at Rielle's criticism. Wolves
had to fight. It was simply how they were. She had to admit Caleb did seem to
enjoy fighting a little more than anyone else in the pack, though. “He's just
got the warrior gene in him. Lily says he's always been that way. A scrapper
since birth.”

A tiny curl to Rielle's lip indicated her thoughts on that.
“Well, whoever ends up being his mate will have a lot to handle.”

Sara jiggled her feet under the table. All the talk of mates
was making her skin itch. She changed the subject. “What about starting new
packs? How has that historically worked for us?”

Rielle played with the handle of her coffeecup and appeared
deep in thought as she answered. “Well, it's happened before. Many times. A
pack gets too big and needs to expand by breaking into offshoot packs, too many
alpha males are born and need to make their own way, the pack's alpha sees a
political need for another pack that is umbrellaed under the main pack. It
generally goes well. As long as the new pack alpha and his mate are a solid,
dedicated couple, it will work. In fact, the only times I know of new packs
having major problems were when the alpha and his mate were not a good
combination.”