Hunting Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #3 (16 page)

“Channing and what remained of the Black Mesa Pack limped home hours later, to find even worse news when they arrived. I was unconscious by then, so I could not relate the details for days until I regained enough strength to talk. Quite frankly, when I discovered my older boys had been killed as well, I gave up. I no longer wanted to be a wolf. I had proved myself unworthy of Pack status, as I could not even defend my own family. I simply had no more will for the life.”

He stopped talking, finally seeming a bit lost in his own memories. Rielle felt the tears dripping down her face, but she made no move to wipe them away. “What did you do?” she finally whispered into the lengthening silence.

Kurt smiled, adding more wrinkles to his face. “I told Channing to kill me, since I would no longer shift into my wolf self. I lacked all will to live anymore. Channing, being a stubborn cuss as well as a hothead back then, refused on the grounds he simply could not lose any more pack members than he already had.”

Rielle swallowed hard against the solid lump in her throat. At this point, she knew without a doubt Kurtis Tunstall was telling the truth. Nothing but honesty radiated from him. Her heart bled for his old sorrow.

“He and I argued about it for months. My method of arguing, of course, became easier and easier: I simply did not shift.” Kurt gave her a piercing look as he said this. His gentle eyes seemed to punch through her despite the mildness of his overall expression.

“Wh-what?” She stammered on the word. “I don't...oh.” She stared at him in abrupt comprehension. “Oh,” she said again, her voice a shadow.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I did not shift into a wolf ever again. I made my peace with my animal side, and gave it all up to be fully human.”

Rielle's wolf whined, low but thrumming with nervousness. Rielle took several deep breaths in attempt to flood herself with a serenity she definitely was not feeling at the moment.

“I'd been so much more interested in my human side anyway, it wasn't that difficult of a letting go. My wolf had been dormant for months already at that point, although I hadn't consciously realized where I was heading. I don't believe I would have done it had my mate and cubs lived,” he added. “Or at least not for many, many more years. But their deaths were the tipping point, so to speak.”

Rielle noticed he'd kept referring to them in shifter, rather than human, terms. She'd thought it odd, but now understood it was simply another way for him to distance himself from his previous life. They had been true shifters, anyway. It seemed like a fitting way to honor them.

“Alpha must not have liked that very much,” she finally murmured. “Your not shifting, I mean.”

Kurt chuckled lightly. “No. He was quite furious with me. But even then, despite being a tempestuous man, he already showed glimmers of the Alpha he was destined to be. Eventually, he simply allowed it. We'd been too close for him to ever seriously consider killing me.”

He said that last sentence so casually Rielle blinked.

“Things were different then, young Rielle,” Kurt said very gently. “Any shifter who did not want to remain in a Pack was either cast out or killed. No other options were ever considered. Being killed was by far the more common result. In fact, the only reason so many rogues existed to try and destroy us was because they'd fled their packs, either from this world or the old one, and managed to evade capture. Back then, any wolf that went rogue from its pack had an immediate death sentence upon his head.”

Rielle nodded. That much she knew from her studies of Pack history. In fact, the Black Mesa Pack had certainly killed any of its own over the years who went rogue, although it had not happened within the memory of any of the younger members. The pack was too healthy and well-balanced for anyone to truly desire to leave it. However, it still was required to kill for other reasons. She fleetingly thought of Lily, then shook her head. She needed to focus right now, right here.

“But you never contemplated going rogue,” she said. Her wolf had settled, now watching Kurt from a place that didn't burn right through Rielle's eyes. The deep breathing had helped a bit after all.

“Oh, my heavens, no. No, no. I very much respected my pack. I still do. Enough so that I have been entrusted to telling you this secret. Upon the orders of the Pack's Alpha.” He cocked his head at her and became very serious. “You, my dear, are quite important to the Black Mesa Pack.”

The conversation turned so quickly from Kurt's distressing past to Rielle's own life she started.

“I—” she began, but her cut her off with a small wave of his age-spotted yet still gracious hand.

“You,” and he pointed directly at her for emphasis, “are essential to the Pack, Rielle. You as a woman, as a wolf, as a historian. I know you've wondered if you can handle the more realistic aspects of being a shifter.”

His dark eyes caught hers, seeming to laser right into her soul. Her wolf whined again, then clearly said,
Yes. Being wolf is important.

Rielle swallowed.

“You can handle being a wolf, my dear,” he continued in a mild tone that belied the intensity of his gaze. “You are not like me.” Those words were so low she would not have caught them without her sensitive hearing. “Otsana tells me you love being in town, spending time with humans, thinking of human pursuits. Yet that does not mean you are not a shifter. You are, and you always will be. Your wolf is still strong in you. And I do suspect she's become stronger in recent weeks, has she not? Ever since a certain male wolf has realized he's as interested in you as you are in him.” Kurt smiled at her in the same kindly way Otsana had during their awkward conversation weeks ago. “She has become quite a bit more forceful with her demands to be let loose, has she not?

Rielle opened her mouth but found no words waiting. Her throat was closing up a bit in her classic symptom of being flustered. Heat rose into her face.

Her wolf, however, felt no such constrictions. Clear as a bell, she said,
Yes. Time to run more. Run and play with him. Mate.
She sent a strong image of Caleb as his wolf, loping alongside Rielle in the forest, bumping her hip with his, keeping steady beside her with all his pent up anger and wildness curled into a relentless yet utterly protective male who wanted to be with her. Even if he stepped on her paws along the way.

“What are you saying to me?” she finally managed to get out.

Kurt then stepped forward and took Rielle's cold hands between his. He held them in a light but firm grip and leaned slightly forward, as if to be certain she would hear him despite being barely a nose away.

“Your wolf is part of your soul, Rielle. And Caleb is part of your heart. It's so obvious.” His slightly melancholy smile hinted at the bond that must have existed between him and his lost mate. “And your Pack. Ah, your Pack is part of your destiny as well as your responsibility. The threat from these rogues today is quite real, my dear. There has been more danger and bloodshed because of them since those rogues that almost destroyed this Pack nearly two hundred years ago. Your Alpha will not allow that again.” Kurt's voice hardened for a split second, and Rielle finally could understand how this man, this human, had once been a shifter. He still carried shifter genes, a shifter's body, despite the fact he'd never gone back to his wolf form and never again would be able to. “But for him to be able to fight this threat and win, he needs every single Pack member to be present and committed.”

“I would never betray my Pack,” she said, stung.

“Oh, I know that. But you do need to
be
there for your Pack. Body, heart, and soul. As does Caleb.” Kurt shook his head and let a tiny laugh whuff out of him. “He reminds me so much of his father, when Channing was much younger. I know he sees that in his son, too.

“Now then,” he said briskly, stepping back and letting go of her hands, although he still held her eye rather sternly. “Not only is Caleb the one who will free your wolf, my dear, but you are the one who will soothe his. I can hardly think of two wolves more meant for one another. Despite the rocky road you two still travel together.”

Just thinking about being with Caleb, his blue eyes serious as he looked at her, light stubble covering his set chin and carved cheekbones, his muscles rippling and flexing as he held her tight, kissing her for all he was worth.... Just the thought made her flush. Mostly from anticipation.

Kurt smiled, now quite genial. “Ah, yes. He most certainly is the one for you. In fact, my dear, there he is now!”

Rielle turned to see the object of her fantasy approaching the greenhouse door, his movements big and powerful and headed straight for her. Caleb's eyes focused on her, and that sexy grin swept across his face. It changed his features from foreboding and even frightening to relaxed, playful, and very interested. He lifted a hand in a wave as he reached to open the door.

Kurt then said, in perfect French, “We shall talk again soon, Mademoiselle Rielle Amoux. Until then, your gentleman there shall keep an eye on you. And I expect you to keep a good eye on him, as well.”

With a wink, he turned toward Caleb as the big wolf entered and exclaimed in English, “Caleb! So good for you to come rescue this lovely girl. I'm afraid all my talk of the best ways to encourage growth in my roses was beginning to bore her to tears. But do come in and take a look at a Venus Flytrap, my boy. I think the warrior in you will quite enjoy its rather barbaric qualities.”

Chapter 9

Caleb bounced the ball again, once. Narrowing a critical eye, he set up for the shot.

Then he stopped. Bounced the ball again, enjoying the hollow thunk as it slapped the cement court. He then began to dribble with enthusiasm, moving in a circle around his brother and away from the hoop.

Tate groaned with theatrical despair.

“Seriously, man, you're gonna wear that ball into nothingness if you keep dribbling instead of shooting. This is the lamest version of 'Hey, let's go shoot hoops' I've ever played.”

“So?” Caleb growled. “I like to dribble. It's all about the coordination. Good skill to have.”

He moved down the court behind the den, ignoring the good-natured curses from Tate. The sun was down. Twilight crept across the woods. This was about the only time of day they could play, given how damn hot it had been for the past several days. Just after 10pm, it was cool enough to sweat only buckets instead of entire troughs.

Ever since the strangest but awesomest date ever, Caleb had been hot enough to combust. He'd had some great discoveries since that night.

Rielle liked him for sure: check. Rielle still really enjoyed kissing him, as proven long, slow, and really hot after they got back to the den from visiting Kurt's place that night: check. Rielle was in the den every single day, tempting him constantly with her wildly appealing scent of spicy apples sprinkled with cinnamon and topped with sweet whipped cream: check. Rielle was giving him those little glances a girl gave you when she was thinking some pretty down and dirty thoughts: check. His wolf was so sure Rielle was his—mate, or something—that the steady stream of images of Rielle snuggling beside him, running with him, and curling up with him in a den of their very own was making him want to claim her more and more with every passing second: check. Caleb hadn't been with a woman, or even remotely wanted anyone other than Rielle, in longer than he'd ever gone in his life since he first discovered girls: check. Rielle was
not
playing hard to get, but he knew down to his bones he had to take it slow and sure with her, so he wasn't rushing things and therefore felt like he was going to explode: check, check, check.

Yeah, dribbling helped a lot to get out some of that energy that just needed to grab her, drag her into the woods with him, and show her exactly how much she was in control of his entire damn body.

“Come on, shoot! Or pass it,” Tate hollered from where he still hovered near the hoop on the west end of the court.

Caleb whirled and charged down the court toward the hoop. Tate whooped and swerved in to block. After a tense dance, Caleb found an open spot. He set up a perfect shot and watched the ball sail through the net as if it desperately wanted to be caught.

Yeah, that about summed it up. The hunter in him wanted to catch Ree. And he could tell she really wanted to be caught by him. He was about to explode. She wasn't going to approach him directly, and he knew it. She was interested in taking it a step farther. Or ten. But she was shy about this sort of thing, for sure. He'd have to make the first move. Besides, if he didn't get to taste her sweetness soon, he'd not only explode, he'd probably tear out someone's throat. Luke's still seemed like a good choice, even though Alpha's order to leave the rogue alone prickled under his skin like a pointy, unbearably annoying little burr.

Screw it. Time to find that sweet little wolf who'd been calling to his deeper instincts for weeks now, and kiss her so long and deep and slow she would pretty much melt right then and there. Or something equally fascinating.

“All yours, bro. I've got something to take care of.” He let the ball roll off the court and jogged away, ignoring Tate's exasperated shout about ungrateful players and useless brothers.

~

Rielle paced in her room. At this rate, she'd create a trench in the soft carpet. It wasn't actually her own room, just one of the many rooms in the den. Even though she'd brought some of her personal items from her home in town, it didn't feel quite right. She felt restless here, almost itchy. It was like something was under her skin, demanding to be let out. What exactly it was, she couldn't decipher. But it made her pace, stop to stretch, then pace again, feeling jumbled and edgy and ready to escape the small space, pleasant though it was.

Warm summer air piled in through the window screen. Despite the den's central cooling system, she liked open windows at night. The scents of the forest here were rich, and she loved to breathe it all in as she fell asleep each night. She could hear the cicadas whirring and the muffled sounds of a ball bouncing on the court out back.