Wolf Home: Paranormal Werewolf Romance

Wolf Home

By Zoe Chant

Copyright Zoe Chant 2015

All Rights Reserved

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Epilogue

Chapter One

Nicole spent the first half of the drive home with all four of the windows rolled down, blaring pop music on the radio and coming within ten miles of the speed limit only when she had to choose between that and totaling the car.

She wanted to stay like that: carefully, determinedly not thinking about anything but the smell of the mountains coming in with the air, the way the bass in the music vibrated in her chest, and the feel of handling the car on curves. She wanted to keep driving north instead of turning to make her way towards her home village. Better yet, she wanted to be back in her apartment in New York City, making lunch with her roommate and singing along with the radio. Or more likely, working on the final part of her thesis.

She tried to feel guilty for abandoning her thesis, briefly entertained the thought that she would work on it tonight, but that painfully human Nicole had already been pushed away like her human skin when she turned her shape. Maybe her New York City self was even less real than that, an illusion put on for the good of her professors, classmates and friends.

She didn't think so. Her life for the past ten years wasn't all a lie, was it? She'd been happy, even through her loneliness. For all she lacked a pack or family, for all her connections with human men would inevitably for temporary, for all she'd had no one to howl or run with. She
had
had friends, people she could grow to think of as family, and a field of study she'd loved. More than that, she'd had freedom: the freedom to talk to whoever she wanted, wear whatever she wanted, be as rude or polite to whoever she met, and even to have sex with whoever she wanted. Sure, it would never end well, human men were not meant to be with wolves, but at least she'd been allowed to try.

She felt that happiness stripping off now with the wind. Every mile closer to home was another mile off of the cushion of space that kept her family from knowing about her choices to object to them.

Reluctantly, Nicole slowed the car to a reasonable speed, turned down the radio, and closed the windows to think. The lyrics on the radio, something about small towns, were about equally as distracting as the scent of deer (how long had it been since she'd smelled deer on the air instead of car exhaust and fast food?) to her in this mixed state. She needed to think.

The first message she'd received several days ago had been an email asking her to come home after the landslides this year had destroyed buildings belonging to several packs, so she could help them decide where it would be safe to rebuild. That kind of thing was ostensibly the reason she'd left to go to college, and then begged another six years for grad school, in the first place. It shouldn't take all that long, either; she'd promised to come down that weekend, figuring she'd spent all of spring break working, so she could take a few days to help her family even in the final month of her degree.

That would have been fine. That was the kind of time she owed her family for raising her, for paying for as much of her education as she could, for being
her family
.

The reason she was leaving on Friday morning, skipping her own classes in the morning and the class she was supposed to TA in the afternoon, was the urgent phone call she'd received at two AM.

Her father's voice rose unbidden in her memory: “There were some injuries in the disaster. Your mother lost another baby, and – the doctors don't think there's going to be another. Nicole, you need to come home.”

She snarled to herself, hands tightening on the steering wheel. She was twenty-eight years old, not twelve anymore, but her parents commanded her life as surely as they had when she was a child. That was how wolf society worked.

Nicole slowed again before entering another sharp curve and tried to control her breathing. When the rage slipped away, it was immediately replaced by guilt. Her parents had tried to give her space. They had accepted the lack of visits home as the tacit rejection of her place as their heir it was, and they had been trying to have another child to take over as alpha instead. They didn't have any more freedom to break tradition and give the succession to a cousin than her. If there wasn't an heir, the Blackwood pack would be broken, the members would intermarry into other groups as refugees with uncertain places, and their pack's stories and history would be lost.

Her mother had lost three pregnancies in the years she'd been gone, and this one had been her last chance, apparently. She must be feeling terrible right now.

Nicole pushed back the guilt with the anger and tried to look at things from another angle. It wasn't like she had any choice about this. It wasn't all horrible, anyway. She'd have other wolves to run with. She'd be able to hunt again. She'd have the mountains – a PhD in earth sciences gave her plenty of field work, so she'd had nature, but she rarely had time to slip away and shift on those shifts. Even when she did, she was alone.

Alone. That word pulsed in her head with her heart beat, as it had for so long. Wolves weren't meant to live without other wolves. She'd have her family back, for good or for ill.

And she'd have something else. Her father had mentioned that they were trying to set her up as soon as possible, “all things considered,” which was a nice way of saying that as a teenager Nicole had practically chewed holes through her walls from stir craziness living with her parents, and they wanted her married as soon as possible so she could move
out
.

She wasn't sure how she felt about being set up. Nicole had met most of the eligible possibilities before she left home, and not thought much of them. Still, though, at least there was a future possible. She imagined running through the woods with her mate instead of awkward small talk in coffee shops not having to explain why her body language was all off and she never remembered to act subservient enough to seem to be a human woman. There was sex, too. It was so clumsy with humans, who were unathletic and liable to smash their heads into yours or clip teeth together at the worst times.

Wolves used their bodies all the time and didn't forget how to move. More than that, the pack bond gave you an insight into your mate's mood. There were still misunderstandings and miscommunications, but at least it was usually pretty clear whether you wanted to be chased or left alone, or whether you wanted to be held while you cried or kissed.

Nicole was halfway into a daydream about her fangs sinking into the throat of a stag, tasting its life blood and dragging it back to share with her new mate, when she came within sight of the long, gravel road that would leave her into the area residents sarcastically called Wolf Home Mountain. She shook off the mental images, undoubtedly inspired by her last date at a truly terrible restaurant, and turned the car.

“Home, sweet home,” she murmured to herself, and fought the urge to howl a greeting. They'd know she was there soon enough, when she walked in the front door.

***

The day held little enough conversation. Everyone was focused on assessing damage and making plans for repairs. It made for a surprisingly subdued pack. Nicole counted heads worriedly, wondering what the reason for the silence was; wolves were never this upset over property. Was it just about her mother, or were there deaths? She didn't see anyone missing who should be there, but this was only the adults.

Her mother showed up at lunch time with food. Nicole studied her worriedly, but while she stayed in a chair instead of getting up to check on people as usual, she seemed alright. A little pale, maybe. Nicole breathed in, trying to smell her, but it was hard to untangle her scent from the rest of the pack's. She didn't smell death or illness, anyway, from anyone.

She couldn't avoid her parents forever, though. Eventually, people started packing up to go home. They were within walking distance of the house. Nicole left the car to her mother and shifted to run back alone.

Her bedroom was the same as it ever had been. She tried not to look at it, instead concentrating on shucking off her mud covered clothing in preparation for a shower.

She was down to her shirt and underwear when a knock came on her door.”What?” she yelled absently.

“Nicole,” her mother said. “You didn't bring anything formal, did you?”

She blinked. “No, why?” She remembered the reference to setting her up and thought incredulously,
already
?

She pulled her jeans back on before she went to actually answer the door. “You already have someone to introduce me to tonight? I thought this was going to be a meeting?”

“Yes, it is.” Her mother came in and dumped several hangers of clothing onto the bed. “See what fits you the best, I wasn't sure – you've gained weight,” she added approvingly, looking Nicole over. “You were such a skinny child. Anyway, he's living with the Fannon pack, so this seemed like the best time to see what you think of each other.”

Living with wasn't one of. “Did he leave his native pack?” Nicole asked, mystified. Wolves very rarely did that without leaving wolf society altogether; it was usually because of some terrible crime. Maybe his had been dissolved?

Her mother's lips pursed disapprovingly. “He's first generation.”

Nicole spun from where she'd bent to start inspecting the clothing. “You're joking.”

“If you don't want to meet him, you don't have to, sweetheart,” her mother said.

“No, no, it's fine!” Nicole said rapidly. First generation wasn't a problem, she'd been living with humans for years, and he might well be the only option in the state she hadn't known since she was six. “What's his name?”

“Adam Langley. It's because of the political situation,” her mother said vaguely, shaking her head. “We can talk about it in the car. Get showered, we don't have much time. Do you think any of this will fit? I asked your cousins for what they had to spare.”

“I think the green dress might,” Nicole answered, distracted.

“Good. I'll be downstairs when you're ready,” her mother announced, and left.

Nicole stripped and darted for the bathroom; if her mother had said they didn't have much time, they were probably already late. Wolves weren't exactly punctual as a rule.

She glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror as she waited for the water to heat, trying to see herself as some unknown man would. She was pretty enough, she supposed. Her hair was black and curly, her skin smooth and unmarked, and her eyes glowed gold. It was an unusual color for human, but a highly desired one among wolves.

Her face, well, she didn't have any obvious faults. She actually had breasts now, and a few other curves; she really had gained weight in school. Grocery stores were a wonderful convenience, and she was definitely a fan.

The water had heated up. Nicole sighed and told herself aloud to stop delaying. She piled her curly hair on her head and stuck a shower cap on it – there was no time to let it dry, and her hair type didn't get along well with hair dryers – before stepping in.

Her thoughts caught up to her and she snarled again, glad the water covered the noise. Here she was, evaluating herself by someone else's standards, worrying about how well she'd fit again. Back into old patterns within less than a day.

She tried to let the hot water wash away her anger as she scrubbed the caked dirt off of her hands and legs. She was out in five minutes and pulling on first underwear, then the green halter dress she'd thought might fit. Wolf fashion was usually easy to remove to allow for fast shifting; the dress would probably come falling off if the tie at the back of her neck was removed.

An alternate use of that fact occurred to her. Nicole blushed – and made sure to choose a knot that could be undone with one tug.

“Put this on,” her mother hissed as they trooped into the car, along with the one cousin over at the house. “All of it, Nicole. Your father will meet us there.” She pressed an alarmingly heavy, but small jewelry box into Nicole's hands.

Right. Nicole spared an awkward smile for Mary before the other girl got into the driver's seat. She watched her mother lean back against the headrest with anxiety, and drew in a deep breath. She didn't smell anything too worrisome, but then again, she was hardly a doctor. There didn't seem to be any fresh blood, at least.

She shook herself, huffing like a wolf, and opened the jewelry box. Then she winced. She really had gotten used to human standards; the thought of wearing everything piled into the box made her feel trashy, though the beaten gold was genuinely antique, not costume, and the handful of gemstones would, she knew, be real. No glass for them.