River Wolf (23 page)

The show continued on a fourth pass and the limp on the right foreleg proved more pronounced, yet he still edged closer. In another few minutes, he’d be in snapping range. The breeze picked up and carried the wolf’s scent toward him. The foreign taste to the other wolf included fur, snow and…no pain. The limp
was
the distraction.

Brett braced himself as the wolf made a show of reversing his circular stalking. The split-second gave him insight. It had been a trap. One designed to draw his attention to a different attack, within striking range. Mischa raced forward and Brett sprang adroitly avoiding the charge. The wolf’s bulk slamming into him would have transferred momentum and he wanted the other wolf off balance. Landing behind him, he struck even as Mischa skidded to a halt and tried to turn.

The battle was vicious. They slammed into each other, and the force cracked a bone in his rib. The Russian wolf wasted no time sinking his teeth into Brett’s right shoulder. He tore away skin and fur. The drawing of first blood didn’t phase his wolf, because he opened a strip along the other’s side. Back and forth, they went snarling and rending. Lacerations littered them both and their blood speckled the road. Every charge, every bite, every claw mark designed to weaken the other. Twice, Mischa tried to use his bulk against him and twice Brett avoided the holds. The third one, however, he allowed as he went low. Caught up in bloodlust, the Russian pounced and Brett slid down against the blacktop, dragging his wounded side against the pavement. The pain was excruciating, but he craved it for the angle. Too late, Mischa saw his folly, but Brett’s teeth sank into his soft underbelly and he clenched his jaw and ripped even as the other tore into the muscle of his left hind leg. Blood spurted.

He’d severed an artery. Surging upward, he tucked his wounded leg higher and went for an ear. The soft flesh tore beneath his teeth and his opponent’s snarls became interspersed with harsh explosions of pain. Blood dripping from his jaws, Brett didn’t slow even as Mischa tried to escape him. He seized the back left leg and like the bastard had done to him, he severed tendon and muscle with a wrench.

The abrupt scream released from the other wolf’s throat held the notes of surrender he’d waited to hear. The battle became one of trying to get away, but Brett refused him pity. The wolf came to take what was his, he would leave the battle only when his corpse lay on the road. Landing on his back, he seized his neck and locked his jaws. It was harder to kill from above. Heavy layers of fat protected the bones and muscles, but Brett was determined.

When the spine cracked, then shattered under his bite, Mischa’s struggle ceased. Brett rose and threw his head back to howl his triumph. Bloodied and furious, he eyed the female rushing toward him. She never made it. A bloody hole appeared in the center of her forehead and gore exploded from the back of her skull in bits of bone and brain matter. She was dead before she hit the pavement.

Luc walked forward slowly and Brett turned to face him. The acrid stink of gunpowder joined the scents of blood and death.

“So,” he said, conversationally before squatting down and lowering his eyes in deference to the battle fury flooding Brett. “What next, boss?”

T
he weekend gathering
was in full swing, and Brett stood in the center of a large group of wolves. He’d returned late into the night from his Alpha Challenge, bloody and bruised, but alive. She wished like hell she could remember it. She’d still been wolf, shifting only after she fell asleep. For the first time in a long time, when she woke near dawn she’d not given into the urge to fall asleep again. Instead, she’d inspected Brett and woke him in the process.

Long red welts bisecting his scars marred his shoulder. Vivid blue-black bruises decorated his chest and his left leg…it wept in places. She’d been torn between touching and wanting to avoid hurting him. He’d tried to sit and cuddle her, but she pushed him down and focused on his leg. Everything in her wanted it better, and when she touched both sides of the wounds it began to knit itself closed.

He’d sucked in a deep breath, but remained silent through the whole process. When she finished, exhaustion rolled over her and when he caught her, she laid her head on his wounded chest. The steady beat of his heart brought tears to her eyes and she did the one thing she’d always sworn to avoid. She cried all over him. Instead of being repulsed, Brett stroked her hair and nuzzled her forehead. He’d held her. Comforted her. Then when she pushed herself upright and slapped his unwounded shoulder, he’d grinned at her.

Across the field, she caught him glancing at her, the same heart-stopping smile alighting on his face. He’d slept for a good portion of the day, slept because she’d insisted and kept him pinned in the bed. Though a part of her knew if he’d been needed, he wouldn’t have let her keep him there. He’d stayed because she needed him to be in her arms and she’d needed him to be safe.

They’d talked about everything and nothing for hours. Yet watching him interact with the other wolves, though, taught her more. He was vital to his pack. They all glanced at him from time to time no matter what they were doing. Why shouldn’t they? He seemed to glow from deep within. He wore his power well.

When he raised his eyebrows, she shook her head. She was fine where he was and his pack—yes, calling a whole community
pack
would take some getting used to—needed reassurance. They flooded him in waves. Everyone wanted a word, a touch, a hug. He shook hands with the men, kissed the women on the forehead or the cheek and hugged more than his share from nine months to ninety years. Every group seemed happier after they’d been around him, their excited chatter rising and falling like the ebb and flow of the tide.

Next to her on the bench was an envelope. Brett had her investigated the day she arrived in Story Pointe. Had it really only been a week ago? No wonder dogs aged seven years for every one human year, she could hardly imagine being anywhere else. Though she intended to keep that observation to herself unless she and Brett were fighting. He didn’t like it when she called them dogs.

The envelope held secrets about her life. He hadn’t opened it. As he’d explained when he handed it to her an hour before the gathering started. Wolves, he’d told her, could be turned but were most often born. But a wolf could only be borne from wolves. Her mother, if she wasn’t a full-blown wolf had to be latent like her and chances were, her father was also a wolf. Her biological father…not a subject she thought on much. The man she’d called Dad her whole life was a regular guy, an accountant, steady as the day was long and easy going though he maintained her mother’s strict rules. Did she have any business reading about a person her mother never mentioned? Brett told her he would respect her choice. He still wanted to meet her mother and she’d changed the subject back to his injuries.

Still wounded, he wouldn’t let her try to heal him anymore. The lecture after that argument still rung in her ears. Healers needed time to restore their own energy, and she was too new and too untrained.

Then he caressed her cheek. “I might have some new scars, but I’ll have earned them. If you overextend, you could truly do yourself harm and then I wouldn’t have you.”
Those sweet words deflated her argument. Gillian was absent from the gathering. She and her mate were friends, and allies, but they were not pack. The meal, the party, and the conversation were about renewing pack bonds.

When she mastered her wolf, Gillian had told her, then she could begin her training as a healer. Since the feeling of
other
came in went within her soul, she expected mastering her wolf was easier said than done. At least she hadn’t ripped herself apart since waking earlier in the day.

Smothering a yawn, she retrieved the lemonade Margie had pressed into her hand. She’d already eaten the brisket sandwiches and potato salad Charles delivered to her followed by the braised ribs Luc dropped off. Not far from Brett, Luc held court, with a woman on each arm and looking all the happier for it. The charmer had been broken a week before and if she was any guess, she’d bet he’d be bedding both of the females vying for his attention before long.

When a man drew Brett’s attention away, she glanced down at the envelope. A clearing throat behind her interrupted before she could decide whether to open it or not. Twisting, she found Samantha standing a foot or so away. The tall, leggy blonde didn’t wear the same bitchy expression she’d had when she appeared at Brett’s house.

“I owe you an apology.” The hostile tone didn’t carry an ounce of sincerity, but it didn’t matter because Colby didn’t agree.

“No, you don’t.” The response seemed to surprise the other woman.

“I have my orders.” Either Brett or Luc, or maybe her parents. Fine, if they wanted to force an apology, that was their business.

“I don’t care.” She shrugged. “When I was kid, my mother would always tell me to apologize whenever a disagreement happened whether it was my fault or not. Whether I meant it or not. If you want to apologize because you genuinely feel bad or feel that I deserve one, knock yourself out. You were pissed, not at me, but at someone else and you took it out on me. I also belted you in the face, and I don’t plan to apologize for it.”

Despite her frown, Samantha seemed more intrigued than offended. “I kind of deserved it.”

“Yes, you did.” On that point, they could agree. The other woman wouldn’t quite meet her gaze. She kept trying though. Hopefully, the wolf politics thing would come easier to her. “Look, you care about your brother. As it happens, so do I.” The words flowed out of her. “If I thought someone was doing him harm, I’d probably want to rip into them, too. So we’re good.”

“Huh.” The other woman shook her head slowly. “You’re not at all what I was expecting.”

“I get that a lot.” Colby grinned. Story of her life. But only part of the story…she came from somewhere. Her wolf did and Brett wasn’t pushing her, but she got the impression he thought she needed to know.

Damn man was right, too. Alphas are always right, he’d said with a grin over coffee earlier and she’d made a decision. Maybe he would always be right, but she didn’t think she needed to join the kiss ass parade.

“You’re okay,” Samantha exhaled. “Maybe we can get coffee at some point. Try the whole get to know you thing over again.”

“I’d like that, but on one condition.”

Wariness returned to the woman’s deep blue eyes. “Which is?”

“I need dirt on Luc. He’s way too cocky.”

Her sudden grin chased away any lingering reservations Colby might have. “I have tons of dirt on Luc.”

The man in question let out a shout and his sister laughed. Still grinning, Colby looked back at Brett and found him gazing at her. The love in his eyes sent a wave of heat over her skin and something within her stirred. It almost felt like…fur rubbing against her. Still trying to process the sensation, she missed Brett crossing the field until he knelt in front of her. “You okay?”

Samantha mumbled something and disappeared back into the crowd.

Nodding slowly, Colby said, “I think so, I just…I felt my wolf.”

“Your eyes changed,” he told her and she blinked. They had? “And back to normal.” With a light hand he rubbed her bare thigh. “Have I told you how much I loved you today?”

“Several times,” she grinned. “But I haven’t told you.” He stilled and she cupped his face in her hands. “I love you Brett Dalton, crazy wolf stuff and all.”

His arms closed around her and then his mouth fused to hers and she basked in the passion of his kiss. Applause broke out around them and Luc shouted again. “Get a room.”

“What a great idea,” Brett said against her lips and she laughed. Everything was easier when he was at her side. It was… “Colby?”

“Mates.” That was what he’d called Owen. Owen was Gillian’s mate. His parents were mated. Samantha had thought she was supposed to be Luc’s, and yes, she loved the man but she wasn’t in love with him. He didn’t quicken her pulse or brighten her world. “You’re my mate.” It sounded so weird—and so damn right at the same time.

“Yes I am.” Brett nipped at her lower lip, the gentle scrape of his teeth sending a pulse straight to her sex. “You’re mine.”

“But you never…”

“You’re still getting used to us, sweetheart. Getting used to who you are. I can wait forever for you to be ready, for you to know without a doubt as much as I do.” Another gentle kiss and her heart did a somersault.

One hesitation lingered in her gut, but she didn’t understand it. Didn’t know what was holding her back. “I love you.”

“I know.” The reference earned another smile from her, but it didn’t change the reluctance souring the moment for her. Was it her or the elusive wolf within her? The wolf who took her over and she couldn’t remember when she woke? “Its okay. We have all the time in the world.”

Did they really? She considered him. The urge to grab the envelope and run tensed in her muscles. A sense of urgency flooded her and she tried not to meet his gaze, she didn’t want him to read her intention and be hurt by it. The sensation of fur against her skin rippled through her and for a split second, she could almost feel the wolf.
Run.

Run.

Drawing back, she wiggled out of his arms so she could stand. Brett released her, but the intensity in his gaze licked her all over.

Run.

She loved him, and she didn’t want to run away from him. Rubbing her arms, she tried to quell the wildness seeping into every pore.

Run so he can chase.

Snapping her gaze to Brett’s, she tilted her head. No worry darkened his eyes, in fact…her nostrils flared as she caught excitement hovering in his scent.

Run.

Who wanted her to run, him or her wolf? Biting her lip, she almost laughed as his gaze stroked down to her mouth and another bolt of lust had her pussy clenching around the emptiness.

Could they just leave? “How much longer do you need to be here?” The gathering was important to him, and though they were surrounded and people were everywhere, they all seemed to fade for her except him.