Steel: Blue Collar Wolves #3 (Mating Season Collection) (4 page)

She couldn’t get away right now, so she did as told. His voice was rough and low, and he came back in only moments. A fierce debate raged on his face, but he shook free of it. “There’s an emergency. I need to go.”

“You can’t leave me locked up.” If he took her away with him, there was a chance she could escape in any confusion. For him to look like this, it must be an important issue.

“I can’t take you with me.”

“What if something happened? An enemy wolf coming here and grabbing me. The house catching on fire. You can’t leave me
defenseless
.”

More debate on his features, and deep inside something in her blossomed, warmed, a part of her she needed to stomp out later, all because of this proof he had a hard time thinking of her in any type of danger, enough that he was debating putting aside what was in his best interests to take care of her. But the debate ended, and he motioned ahead of him up the stairs.

Now wasn’t the time. She’d gotten to him, gotten that first toehold under his skin.

Patience.

Freedom was only a matter of time.

‡

S
teel drove back
from Iron’s bar, his mind tumbling and turning over the events over the last couple hours.

Fucking Iron. If he didn’t mate Bella after this, Steel might have to fuck his beta up as bad as his bar was currently looking. The image of Iron sitting there, small and pathetic amidst the wreckage of the bar and downing whiskey – it hurt him in that place only family can touch. His beta didn’t deserve that kind of misery. Bella was strong, but would she even deal with Iron after this?

And then the fight… Razor was on the ground now, nosing about to hear of any currents going on. There had been too much peace for too long. Maybe he’d gotten lazy, complacent, thinking it was forever.

Dumbass.

Peace was never forever, not when his kind were so rare and divided over so many issues. Yeah, most of the big packs were modern in their thinking, but the minority wasn’t that small, and the old ways weren’t that long ago. Around here, there were enough lone wolves and outlier packs that if they banded together, he’d have a real challenge keeping hold of this territory.

Fucking hell, and then there was his reluctant mate.

Hunters were another issue he now needed to face. Who was she, and who did she represent? Hunters were so varied. Some were loners, usually the ones who were hurt themselves by wolves or one of the other races. There were some family groupings. And then there were organized militias.

Red didn’t seem to be in a militia. Not enough military in her bearing and a little too much fire. The militia members he’d seen, to them it was a job. Others were dangerous – therefore, must be destroyed. To them it was logic, not emotion.

His Red was brimming with emotion, so he’d place her as a small grouping or loner. Something got her back up to get her into this life.

He walked into the house, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing so far, and he walked up the stairs and down the hallway to her room, opening the door.

In the dark room with only a bit of moonlight to illuminate it, her head swiveled in his direction, the chains clanking as she moved her arms.

She was safe. He’d known she would be, but even with dealing with everything else tonight, that worry would not leave him, riding him for not bringing her with him, the possibility of escape be damned. He asked, “Do you need anything?”

“Freedom.”

The wolf whined in sympathy. “I’d love to give it to you, but it’s hard to do that when all I’ll get for my trouble is a shot in the back.”

She clanked the chains again, this time deliberate with the motion. “You’ll let me free as long as you’re watching me, right? So let me free and come talk to me. I’m bored and you look like you went a round in the ring and lost.”

The wolf whimpered, and the man wanted to so much. He was tired, with too many thoughts and feelings running riot through him.

His mother had been his father’s rock. He’d seen it, sneaking downstairs late at night when he was little more than a pup, saw his father in his mother’s arms and his mother taking his father’s burdens away, saw his father lighter, happier, a far better alpha than he would have been otherwise.

Now he was alpha, and more than the desire that erupted every time he laid eyes on that gorgeously curved figure or the delight that hit him each time his mate’s eyes lit up with that inner fire and cunning, what he wanted was a person with whom he could safely put the alpha aside. Be fallible with. Be uncertain with. Discuss plans and hopes and dreams. Knew that with her, he and his pack were safe and defended and cared for.

With quick efficiency, he went over, unlocking her wrists and then sinking on the far side of the king size bed. Not touching her, only curled on his side, his hands under the pillow and away from her.

Her brows drew together, but after a moment, she mimicked his position, facing him as she lay on her own side, brought her own hands under her head.

“My best friend might have ruined his relationship with the love of his life, and I’m not sure he’ll survive if it doesn’t get fixed.”

Red didn’t have a chance to hide the confusion in her expression. Her face went blank but her eyes showed a thousand different thoughts, avenue upon avenue of discussions on why she thought he was talking to her about this, what possible trap she might be walking into. He bit back his own sigh and waited for her to make a decision on how to handle this.

Then, with a hesitant, careful air, she asked, “Why doesn’t he want to be with her?”

Now Steel held back his sigh of relief. She wasn’t going to be hard, or play the sexpot. She was here with him, and tension began to fade from his shoulders and back, letting him sink into the mattress. “He doesn’t think he’s good enough. She’s a doctor, did it all on her own. She’s amazing, and he feels she deserves more than being with a wolf and living our life.”

Her face opened up as he spoke, and now real interest shown in her eyes. “Does she love him?”

“More than anything. They’ve been in love with each other since they were about six. Well, Iron is dumb about his feelings, so it might have taken him until seven to admit he loved her.”

She smiled at that, and for once, no calculation shown in her eyes. “Really? Six?”

“Really.” And now his own smile faded as possible reality set in. “He can’t lose her. He won’t survive it, and I can’t take the thought of losing him. Her too. The three of us plus Mel have been friends forever, and the thought of losing that…”

He couldn’t go on, didn’t want to, and he only realized he’d closed his eyes when the feel of her palm on his face had them springing open.

She looked as surprised as he that she’d touched him, but swallowing down, kept her hand where it was. “They’re going to find their way to each other. You can’t love someone like that and let it go. Besides, if your friend Bella can become a doctor with nothing more than sheer determination, a wolf is a side project in comparison and almost not worth mentioning.”

After speaking, she offered a tentative smile, so endearing because it looked so wrong on her face, as if she’d never given one before. Gratefully he accepted, giving one of his own and glad he did so, when her face relaxed. “You’re right. Bella can handle him. She’s the one most used to dealing with Iron’s particular brand of stupidity, so she’ll work past it no problem.”

Now curiosity reigned over her features. “Was that all that happened tonight? You seem more wound up than a bad love life dictates.”

Decision weighed on him. This was going into ammo territory, information she could hurt him with if she escaped. But hadn’t he already chosen when he unshackled her, lay down next to her?

Yeah, he had, and he wasn’t backing off now. “About a year ago, a rogue wolf entered the territory, named Jacobson. He’s strong, charismatic, and evil as fuck. Worst of all, bastard’s smart. He isn’t going against me openly, but he’s amassing power. Something happened tonight – I got the feeling he’s ramping up his campaign against me and my pack. Before too much longer, there’s going to be a fight over who controls this territory.”

“Jacobson…” Her mouth formed the words, drew out the syllables. “That names familiar to me, but I’m not sure how. I’d need to research for a bit.”

“Could you? I need the help.” He meant to come off teasing, but at the end was a weariness he hadn’t meant her to hear, which by the slight arch of her brow, she did. He shook his head. “I can’t let him win. I can’t let this territory fall to someone who’d bring back the old ways.”

“The old ways?”

“It’s everything you don’t like about wolves, some of which probably brought you to the moment you became a hunter. It’s taking women without their consent and breeding them. It’s using strength to overpower humans. It’s us acting out the worst of our instincts without any try to do or be better. Some wolves still want that, or could at least be persuaded to that side of things. I’m not going to let it happen here.”

Her face was a jumble of emotions, disbelief and pity and introspection and horror all mixed together with at least a dozen others.

He’d heard from wolves what it felt like to have a true mate, but he’d been curious. He asked Bella once what it was like for the woman who was the true mate of a wolf, if it was the overpowering force it was for the wolves. According to her, it wasn’t, at least from her experience. It was instead a deep sense of rightness, a warmth that was felt only with her wolf, and finally, the strongest, most unbreakable bond of trust.

Did Regan feel that? If she did, it had to be playing havoc with what she thought she knew as a hunter. To have a wolf in front of her talk so plainly about the negative of his kind, but by the same token, asking her to believe that not every wolf deserved to be painted with that brush.

“It was,” came her small, quiet reply after several moments of silence, and with it, the feeling of something heavy, something sacred, coming into existence.

“What was?” he asked, keeping his voice reverent and quiet and respectful.

In the dark, her eyes would be impossible for a human to see. Even to him, they were little more than shadows, but he could see how wide they went, the old pain that even now cut deep. “The reason we became hunters, because we saw the worst of wolves. My father saw them take my mother. There was blood, but we don’t know if she survived.” Now her gaze skittered away, avoided his. “It’s unforgivable to sometimes wish death for someone, but when I think of what the alternative is, I can’t help but hope…”

It was now his turn to reach out, laying two fingers over her pinky, which had escaped from under the pillow. He didn’t want to alarm her, but he wanted physical contact, wanted her to draw any strength from him she needed. She twined her finger with his, keeping the contact to only that, but the fact he hadn’t pulled away had his heart beat triple-time in his chest. “Your father raised you as a hunter after that?”

“My sister too, at least he tried. Bethie never was cut out for it. She wanted to read her books and live a normal life. I was finally able to convince him to let her go to college.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I persuaded him that she’d be a lot more efficient at hunting if she was educated, could really help with research and all that. It was a ruse, we never meant for her to take up hunting again. It became unnecessary when my dad died.”

“A wolf?”

“Heart attack.” And here her smile was a little twist, meant to share life’s ironies. “The life of a hunter includes a lot of stress and not enough vegetables, I guess.”

He wanted to press more about her life. He wanted to know everything – about her, her sister, the way the lived and her own wants and dreams. Why she was still a hunter even after her father died. Everything and anything about her.

Yet every instinct within him was screaming now was not the time. She was starting to look skittish again, as if realizing how much information she’d given him this night. He couldn’t let her spook and lose all the ground he’d fought so hard to win.

Clearing his throat, he began, “My mom made the best chicken pot pie in the world. She’d say the secret was the crust. I’d sit in the kitchen while she cooked, and Mel and Bella and Iron would drop over if they knew it was chicken pot pie night…”

‡