Jared (River Pack Wolves 3) - New Adult Paranormal Romance (2 page)

The girl raged around in her room, and Jared took a moment to watch. She was delicate-boned and young—probably only twenty-five. Not really a girl anymore, but twenty-five felt insanely young compared to his nearly thirty-two. Of course, his mileage far outweighed his years. Her youthful, passionate anger took a long time to cool. In fact, it seemed to be going the opposite direction. She banged on the door and threw things around her room. He watched her for a minute longer, just to make sure she wasn’t going to burst out of her room at precisely the wrong moment. But then something happened that made his mouth dropped open…

She shifted.

Jared squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, then yanked them back open. She was back to human, but there was no doubt she had shifted—because now she was buck naked. Small, high breasts. Delicate, narrow waist. Her abundant waves of hair covered her like a young Lady Godiva. Her fists were still clenched, and her face was still red with fury.

Jared watched, transfixed, as she tugged her clothes back on at a furious pace. 
Then she bolted, straight out of her bedroom door.

He swung his scope back to the main room where her father was mixing himself something to drink.

She didn’t appear.

Jared lifted his gaze and scanned the whole house, but he couldn’t track her. He went back to the scope, but she was gone—vanished into some part of the house that wasn’t visible from his position.

The Senator paced his living room, chugging whatever drink he had.

Jared should take the shot.

That’s why he was here.

He lined up the sight and pulled in a steadying breath that also scented the air—the updraft was gone, the gusts were low. He could hear the soft whisper of the pines across the ravine, signaling the speed. He dialed the windage adjustment, let his breath out slow… and then grimaced as he pulled back from the scope.

The girl was a damn shifter!

The slow gears of his mind were winding up, cranked by that revelation—
the Senator’s daughter,
for fuck’s sake. What was that about? And where did she go?

A flicker of movement outside the house caught his attention. The guards were private security—Garrison Allied, one of Riverwise’s competitors; Jared had checked out the company ahead of time, of course—but their patrols were all on the front side of the house where the winding driveway climbed the mountain to reach the estate. The back of the house opened up to the national forest, and that’s where the movement was.

Jared swung his scope and scanned the darkened tree line—he caught sight of her just as she disappeared into the forest. Fully clothed. Running like the devil was on her tail. The Senator’s daughter just… ran away.

What the hell?

The rest of the house was quiet. Her father was slamming back a second drink.

No one had noticed.

Jared gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate… but even before he lined up his scope again, he knew it was no use. His wolf was whining his ass off—Jared would have to go after her to make sure she was okay.

And
then
come back to kill her father.

Jesus, he was so fucked up.

He abandoned his rifle, leaving it set up under the tree, and shifted to his wolf form. The ravine between him and the house was long and deep. It would take forever to get through the underbrush as a man, but his wolf was strong and had four times the leap. He charged down the slope, using all his senses to navigate the complicated, dark terrain.

What the hell he was doing?

This wasn’t the first time he’d had that kind of thought—sometimes he wondered if the frontal lobes of his brain were actually functioning anymore. He seemed to move on instinct more and more often. There were whole days he lost in the Olympic forest when he let his wolf take control, just as he was now. It was freeing—as if being
wolf
was a more innocent state. The sins he had committed were done by human hands. His wolf’s paws hadn’t pulled the trigger, again and again.

There were days when he thought he might go lone wolf. Never turn human again. Forget all the things that had happened, the mate he’d lost, the people he’d killed. But he knew that was just a fantasy. He could only be free of the nightmares in brief snatches when he was absorbed in work or exhausted by training. Or when he let his wolf run free like he was now, chasing after this girl.

This wolf daughter of the shifter-hating Senator.

It was hilarious and so fucked up. And it had derailed him completely. He shouldn’t care about her—he should focus on the mission—but his wolf had latched onto her like she was suddenly everything that mattered in the world. Even the man in him couldn’t just let her run off and get lost in the woods.
Or hurt.
He frowned with that thought and put more power into his stride up the far side of the ravine. He gave wide berth to the glass house and caught her scent not far into the forest bordering the Senator’s house.

Then he stumbled upon her clothes.

She had shifted again, leaving her jeans and t-shirt just inside the edge of the forest, where they wouldn’t be visible from the house. This girl had done this before, running off into the woods to be a wolf. Maybe. Her shift before had seemed… accidental. Maybe she had barely made it to the trees before losing control.

He scooped up her clothes in his mouth, which made it difficult to pick up her scent. He was overwhelmed by the blueberries-and-cream mixed with angry-sweat smell that permeated them. He dropped her clothes again, padded away, found her scent-trail, retrieved the jeans and t-shirt, and charged off through the forest. He had to repeat that little routine a couple more times, but eventually, he broke out into a meadow in the moonlight. It was really just a small clearing, crowded at the edges by overgrowth from the forest, but it was open enough to easily see her prancing in the tall grass—not least because her wolf’s brilliant white fur shone like a small moon had dropped down to play in the meadow. A light, growling sort of sound accompanied her dance. He couldn’t decide if she was angry or just frustrated. Or maybe she was singing. It had a lyrical quality to it, almost like she was talking to herself.
In wolf.

It was kind of adorable. Deep in his chest, a humming sound started, matching hers—like a growl but not quite—and his open mouth panted as he watched. His wolf was
reacting
to her in a way he didn’t understand. He didn’t reach out to her mentally, although that should’ve been possible—they were both in wolf form. Instead, he picked up her clothes, which had tumbled from his open mouth to the grass, and trotted toward her across the small field.

He could see the exact moment when she caught sight of him—her small wolf body jumped three feet in the air. When she landed, that white fur of hers puffed out and turned her into an extremely fuzzy version of the beautiful singing-and-dancing wolf from before. He slowed his pace. He was sure her growl was meant to be menacing, but it was about as threatening as a very small, very angry kitten.

Then he realized: she was terrified of him. And she should be. Meeting a strange wolf in the forest was dangerous for anyone, but especially a young female wolf. Some packs stole their mates, claiming the unmated females before they could be rescued. And unless the Senator
himself
was secretly a wolf, he doubted this girl had a pack—which left her even more vulnerable.

As he drew closer, her eyes went wide. They were a magical blue surrounded by all that white fur, making her seem almost otherworldly—an angel wolf, shining bright in the moonlight. But those beautiful eyes were zipping between him and the edge of the forest, as if she was contemplating making a run for it, but she was too terrified to move. The meadow grasses around her trembled with the breeze, but she was frozen.

He raised his head, hopefully showing that he was bringing her clothes, then dropped them in the grass a dozen feet from her. He yipped and backed away another dozen, finally planting his butt in the grass and waiting to see if she would take his offering.

There was a long stretch of seconds while she studied him, scenting the air.

He waited, still as a statue, but she didn’t move. Maybe he would be less intimidating in human form? He shifted, still sitting in the grass. This took her by surprise, and she jolted again. But when he remained seated, she tremulously advanced toward her clothes, snatched them in her jaws, then backed away again.

He didn’t move.

Once she was about twenty feet away, she shifted human. That glimpse he’d had before of her naked in her bedroom was on full display for him again—perky little breasts with nipples tightly puckered against the night’s cool air; lithe body slender to the point of ridiculousness, but with a curvy little behind that made his cock sit up and pay attention; and that gorgeous hair, falling long all around her, almost hiding her nakedness. He felt like he should look away—he could see her furious blush even at this distance—but her hurried attempt to shove her clothes on kept him transfixed. Not to mention that his cock hadn’t paid attention to anything in so long, he’d thought it was as dead as the rest of him. It made him feel strangely…
unbalanced.
As if he stood up, he might actually topple over.

Once her clothes were on, she asked, “Who are you?” Her bare feet crunched the grass as she backed away, clearly afraid of him.

Which she should be.

He stood up to talk to her, but his erection sprang out, and that suddenly embarrassed him. He covered it his hands clasped in front of him. That strange sense of unbalance threatened to actually tip him over, making the whole thing even more awkward.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice came out gruff, harsher than he wanted. He was a big man—he knew that—intimidating to most men, even shifters, not to mention girls whose waists were smaller than one of his thighs. It was the shifter gene, his time in the Marines, keeping in shape for his job at Riverwise—plus he’d been running himself to exhaustion with combat drills and training. They were the only things that let him sleep at night, but they also had the effect of keeping his body in top condition.

“How did you find me?” she asked, but she’d stopped looking for an escape at the edge of the forest.

“Followed you.” Probably best not to mention he was about to kill her father before he followed her into the forest on a whim.

She narrowed her eyes. “Followed me from where? I came from my bedroom.”

“I know. I was watching you.” Well, that sounded pretty creepy. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her hands were wringing now, and a new look of anxiety blossomed on her face. “Are you… did my father hire you to watch me?” Her body was one big ball of tension.

He couldn’t help it—he had to move closer to her. He took a couple, slow steps. “No, I promise. I don’t work for your father. You have to know that’s true—I’m a shifter.” He let that hang in the air, because obviously
she
was a shifter, too.

Her eyes went wide, but her thin shoulders dropped, and her face relaxed. “You’re from one of those shifters gangs my father’s always talking about. You’re spying on him.”

“Something like that.” He took another step toward her. She seemed less afraid of shifter gangs than her own father.
Interesting.
“I promise, I won’t tell anyone your secret, including your father.”

He could see the relief washing through her body, draining all the tension from it. “Thank you.” The sincerity of it was so strong, so innocently grateful, even before she knew what he was all about… it
moved
something inside him. Something that wanted to
feel,
but the frozen cavern of his chest was hardened against any such thing.

“Why were you running?” He wanted to come closer, to reach out and touch her soft skin… but that was ridiculous. And besides, his hands were busy covering his junk—the idea being that he was trying
not
to freak her out and make her think he was some kind of predator.

She shook her head and darted a look at the edge of the forest again.

Shit.
He was spooking her.

“Look, it’s really not safe out here for you.” He glanced around at the darkened trees. “I don’t scent any other wolves at the moment, but we’re in open territory. It’s always possible someone could be lurking. And I’m assuming you’re unmated.”

“Unmated?” She wrinkled up her nose in a way that was painfully cute. “That’s something you wolves do, right? Taking a mate? I mean, I’ve heard the stories.”

“You wolves?”
Jared frowned. “You don’t know anything about us, do you?”
Of course.
She’d probably kept this secret her whole life. He wasn’t sure how that was even possible, but she must have.

She looked pained. “I didn’t mean… I just meant… I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, and it was a good thing he was covering up his cock because it twitched when she did that.
Fuck.
What was that all about? It was like every little thing she did… he pushed that thought away and searched his memory for her name. He’d researched the Senator before coming to kill him, of course, but he couldn’t recall it. She hadn’t been important—not until she turned into a wolf.

And started giving him hard-ons without even trying. “My name’s Jared. What yours?”

She laughed, a clear bell sound that rang of innocence. It left behind a smile that glowed in the moonlight. “You tracked me into the forest, but you don’t know who I am? You’re spying on my father, but you don’t know my name?”

“I don’t always do all my homework.”

She let out a hiccupping laugh this time, bubbly and young-sounding, then she advanced toward him in light, quick strides, her hand outstretched to shake hands. “I’m Grace Elizabeth Dawn Krepky, daughter of Senator Timothy Krepky. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jared Wolf.”

His face heated—he would have to remove one of his hands from covering his privates in order to shake her hand. It was absurd that this embarrassed him, so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to do it. “Ms. Krepky.”

She was sneaking looks at his barely covered erection, which only made it harder.