Wolf's Oath (After the Crash 3.25) (4 page)

Cautious hope bloomed on her face. “How?”

“Marry me.” He kept his eyes on hers, gentle and steady. “With me and Stag and some other men from the Clan and Taye’s Pack living here, the house will be protected. I’ll make sure everyone is safe. None of your women will be forced into marriage.”

Her eyes unfocussed as she thought. “I have to marry you?”

“Yes. That’s the deal. You marry me; I protect you.”

“You
want
to marry me? Shouldn’t you wait for your mate? I mean, your inner wolf is the one to choose your wife, right?”

The doubt and confusion in her voice made him want to laugh. “You are my mate. I knew it when I saw you at the Clan’s camp. Why else would I have asked you to be my mate?”

She pulled her wrists from his grip and shook her head. “When did you ask me that? I don’t remember it.”

Well, wasn’t that a kick in the balls? He asked a woman to be his mate, and she didn’t even remember it. His empty hands threatened to clench. “You’re my mate. I asked you the day I first saw you in the Clan camp.”

She hooked her hair behind her ear. It immediately fell out again, but she ignored it. “I barely remember the first few days I was with the Clan. The pain from my broken ankle was so bad, I was out of it most of the time. I told you
no
?”

He nodded.

Her shoulders hunched, as if the ghost of the pain in her ankle slid through her. “You never said anything about it again.”

“You said you never wanted to marry.” He made himself relax. “I wouldn’t try to force you.”

“But you helped me with Dick Dickinson so many times I lost count.” Her eyes unfocussed again while she thought. When her gaze returned to him it was sharp and determined. “You have to promise you’ll never let any of the women be forced into marriage. You have to swear you’ll take care of them and keep them safe no matter what.”

“Okay.”

She stood up, her pale blond hair almost glowing in the light of the lamp. “Swear!” she demanded.

He stood too, looking down at his beautiful mate with fiercely triumphant joy singing in his blood. She was going to marry him! “I swear I will protect you and all the women in this house. No one will ever hurt them or force them to get married. They will be my pack and I will keep them safe at any cost. That is my solemn oath.”

Her breath shuddered out of her in a long breath. “Okay. Good enough. That’s good.”

From the way she twisted her hands together and looked everywhere but at him, he guessed she didn’t know what to do or say next. He took her hands. “We’ll be married tomorrow afternoon at the den.”

He could see that jolted her. “Married? So soon?”

“The priest will be here for only a day or two. There will be other weddings at the same time.”

She pulled her hands away. “Don’t take this wrong, but why do we have to get married? Can’t you just stay here for the first few months as a favor? As soon as the restaurant starts making money, we can pay you.”

Give up his chance to have his mate? There wasn’t enough money in the world for that. “No. I’m too selfish. I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you in the healing lodge in the Clan camp.” He dared to touch a finger to the pale hair hanging over her ear. “I’ve never felt my wolf so clearly. He chose you before I was even through the door flap. I saw you, so still under the blanket, barely breathing. Your face was as white as death, and your ankle was encased in the leather cast, and I wanted to tear the world apart to ease your pain. You were so beautiful, and it killed me to not be able to help you.”

Her eyes were icy blue, gazing into his. The connection between them reached into his heart and yanked. Did she feel it too? Her eyes widened. “Really”

Her lips were so pink, so close. “Yes,” he whispered, bending his head to touch her mouth with his.

She swiftly turned her head aside and stepped back. The slight hiss of pain when she stumbled shoved the missed kiss out of his mind. “Your ankle hurts. Sit down,” he ordered.

She drew herself up straight. “Sure, I’ll sit down. I’ll do it because my ankle hurts, but not because you’re throwing around orders like a newly-commissioned officer.” She jabbed a finger at his chest before settling on the bed. “We need to work out the chain of command. I can take orders, but I can give them too. If you expect me to be a meek little housewife who waits on
you
hand and foot, you’re in for a surprise.”

His wolf howled approval of his mate. She was strong and beautiful while she stood her ground and demanded his respect. “You’re my mate, not a meek little housewife. I don’t expect that.”

She studied him from her perch on the edge of the bed. “Good.”

“We’ll have three packs now.” The thrill of knowing the Clan was growing made him smile. “The Clan, Taye’s Pack, and now our Pack. I’m Alpha and you will be my Lupa.” He would need to recruit more wolves to be part of his pack. With so many females, they would require plenty of wolf warriors to protect them. He glanced down at his mate and saw the shadows worry and weariness put in her eyes. “We can work out the details later. You look tired. Lie down.”

Instead, she stood up, narrowed eyes staring straight at him. “That’s another thing. No sex. I don’t have to be head over heels in love, but I have to feel something for you before we have sex. I don’t know you well enough for that.”

He nodded. As long as she belonged to him, he could wait for her to share her body with him. Something Taye had said to him once came back to him now. Some things shouldn’t be rushed. A mate was a precious gift. Forcing her into sex might bring momentary gratification, but it could take years to rebuild trust, and without trust, the relationship would fail. “Agreed.”

She collapsed back onto the bed. “It’s been a hell of a day. I’m going to sack out. Are you headed back to Taye’s?” Her feathery brows, pale against the fading tan of her face, wrinkled. “Who will walk with me to the den?”

“I will. I’ll stay here tonight and escort you to the den tomorrow myself.”

“
Here
, here? Or do you mean downstairs here?”

“I’ll stay here.” He smelled her alarm and spoke quickly to sooth it. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“In the living room.” She made it a statement, not a question.

“No, here. In front of your door.”

She studied him from under frowning brows. “Whatever. I have to make a trip outside.”

He followed her downstairs and across the yard to the outhouse, and stood guard while she did her business. He lifted his head to the star-spangled black sky, resisting his urge to howl his triumph. The women in the house were sleeping. No need to wake them.

Connie Mondale was going to be his mate! Soon, he’d have the right to kiss her. Soon, he’d be able to stroke his hands over her strong, pale body. Soon, he’d claim that body and sink himself deep inside her heat and then nothing would prevent him from howling his victory.

He followed her back to her apartment and waited in the outer room while she changed into nightwear. When she called for him to come in, he settled himself on the floor in front of the door. She sat on the bed, wearing an oversized wool shirt and loose trousers, biting her lip. He could almost smell the battle that waged inside her.

“It’s cold on the floor,” she finally said, sounding exasperated. “Go stay with Stag or Faron.”

“I won’t leave you,” he said simply.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Fine, you can sleep on the bed.”

“The floor is good. Sleep well, mate.”

“I said, sleep on the bed.” She sounded as though she were grinding her teeth together. “Just don’t get any funny ideas.”

“No funny ideas,” he agreed.

“Blow out the lamp,” she ordered in a disagreeable tone.

Alpha female. It made him want to smile. He suppressed it. Her bed was narrow enough that, lying side by side, their arms touched. She lay rigid next to him, under stacks of quilts, while he lay on top of the quilts. Her obvious fear that he wouldn’t abide by his agreement rankled . He comforted himself with her previous statement that she didn’t know him.

She would. One night she would know all of him. Not tonight, and perhaps not any night in the immediate future, but one night she would give him her body, and that would have to be enough until he won her heart and soul as well.

Inhaling the cold air perfumed by the scent of his mate, he slept.

Connie drifted on the edge of waking, feeling utterly relaxed. Something poked at her mind, something that wanted to disturb her, but she was curled too comfortably on her side to want to let it in. For the first time in weeks she felt warm. She wanted to savor the feeling. When she tried to tug the edge of the blanket higher it snapped taut and didn’t move. She tugged harder with the same level of success. Frustrated, she rolled on to her back to free it, and realized she wasn’t alone. She opened her eyes a slit and found herself nose-to-nose with Des.

Des?
What the hell is he doing in bed with me?
was her first thought, followed by hot outrage when he had the nerve to smile at her.

“Good morning,” he said, and his voice was rough with that sexy, just-woke-up gravel note in it that made her bones turn to hot, gooey jelly.

She refused to melt. Des was gorgeous, sexy as hell, and smelled good enough to eat, but
why was he in her bed
?

She lifted her head to look around the room, noting with relief that he was on top of the quilts, and then saw the bottle on the small bedside table. Memory hit her like a fist in her churning stomach. Oh, God. Faron had told her the women had only three weeks to find husbands. And then… Des had appeared out of nowhere and offered her an escape for all of them.

“I agreed to marry you?” Her voice shook only a little. She swallowed hard. “Did I agree to marry you?”

The warmth on his face faded to the watchful, grim expression she was used to. “Yes. Have you changed your mind?”

She laid her throbbing head back down on the pillow. He was above her, propped on one elbow, one of his thick braids hanging over his chest to pool on the bed beside her, the other hidden behind his back. He was wearing a heavy wool flannel shirt open to show his strong throat and the first six inches of his thick chest. Connie had had more than one erotic dream starring Des, and in them he hadn’t been wearing a shirt. Or anything else.

“No,” she answered. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

One good thing about marriage would be sleeping next to a man who put out comforting warmth as though he were her own personal furnace. And just looking at him made the other kind of heat flare deep in her belly. Damn her imagination, and those erotic dreams.

“I said I’d marry you, and I will.” She ran a thumb along the edge of the blanket, not looking at him. “I’ll be honest. I think you’re handsome. I’m attracted to you. But I don’t know you well enough to sleep with you.”

“We already slept together,” he said.

Was he making fun of her, or just naïve? She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I mean, sleep together. Sex. I don’t know you well enough for that.”

“Yet,” he clarified. “We don’t know each other well enough
yet
.”

Yeah. It was a good thing she was aware of how yucky her mouth tasted. Her libido was telling her she knew Des well enough for some hot, deep kisses. He was just so damn good-looking. He smelled so good too, like a cold, clean winter wind blowing through the pines. She threw the covers back and shuddered her way to her feet.

Des got up in one lithe bound. “You’re cold.”

“Yeah, so go into the other room so I can get dressed.”

He obediently crossed to the door. She was appreciating the way his ass moved in those well-worn jeans, so she didn’t see the expression on his face when he opened the door. But she saw him slam it shut, back pedaling with a hand slapped over his eyes.

“What?” she asked.

He kept his eyes covered. “Kathy!” was all he said.

She hurried to the door herself and opened it just in time to see Kathy’s door slam shut. She glanced back at him. “What?” she asked again.

He lowered one hand enough to peek at her. “I saw her and she wasn’t all the way dressed.”

Was he honestly embarrassed? The part of his face not covered by his hands was red. She closed the door, trying not to laugh. “Get over it.”

“From now on, no woman will leave her bedroom until she’s fully dressed,” he decreed.

Connie’s eyebrow flew up at his autocratic tone. “Hey, she lives here. You’re just visiting.”

“Visiting?” He dropped his hands to stare at her. “We’ll be married in a few hours. Did you think I’d be living in the basement with Stag?”

That made her pause. Of course they’d be sharing her room. Her mind just couldn’t resist remembering the last erotic dream she’d had of him, the one where he had used his fingers and mouth between her legs to make her scream. She turned to the dresser with a shaky breath.

“I’m freezing. Turn around or close your eyes so I can get dressed.”

He didn’t move. “Where,” he asked with gentle persistence, “did you think I would be sleeping?”

“I didn’t think about it, okay? It’s been only a few hours since we decided we’d get married, and I slept most of those. Cut me some slack.” She swallowed, purposely staring at the dresser instead of the rumpled bed. “You’ll be here.” She forced herself to look at him. “This is our room.”

A sleek smile crossed his lips and he promptly turned around. As she hurriedly dressed, she wondered what marriage to a werewolf would be like. It had to be better than an arranged marriage to some guy she didn’t even know. Didn’t it?

* * * *

Standing in the big room, Connie could hear the wind whistle outside. It was going to be a cold walk to her wedding. It was mid-morning, and the sun looked pale and weak to Connie as she donned several layers of winter gear. Faron and two of his men were by one of the stoves, where he was probably giving them orders. Connie and several of the women were a few feet away, close to the kitchen, and Des, Stag and two other men from Taye’s Pack were by the door. Connie snuck glances at Des. She was going to marry him. She still had trouble processing that fact. In a few hours she would be married to Des Wolfe. The hangover hadn’t ever fully materialized, so maybe she couldn’t blame Katie’s stash for the rash decision.
What had she been thinking?

Kathy held out a hat. “It’s awfully cold out,” she said fretfully. “Do you want another scarf? Maybe another pair of socks?”

Connie was so bundled up she felt like an Abominable Snowwoman. There wasn’t enough winter outerwear for each of the women to have her own, but she and Sherry, whom Stag had persuaded to come to the den, had been urged to wear the warmest pieces. They would need them for the cold trek to the den.

Sammie took the hat and placed it at a jaunty angle over Connie’s pale blond hair. She leaned close and whispered, “Are you sure you want to marry him?”

Oh, yeah, now Connie remembered why she’d agree to marry Des. She didn’t have the heart to tell the younger woman that Des, standing only a few yards away, could probably hear their whispers clearly. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sammie wavered. “Well, it’s just that, uh, you know. You said you didn’t want to marry anyone.”

Connie could have told the younger woman she was marrying Des to save all the others from unwanted marriages, but why make them feel bad? Instead she winked. “A girl has a right to change her mind, doesn’t she? And, have you looked at him?”

Sammie did, her expression doubtful. “Yeah, he’s good-looking, if you like older guys… I mean, uh, if you’re old.” When Connie’s eyebrow flew up she fluttered her hands. “Sorry! But he’s got to be, like, thirty-five or forty.”

Kathy seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face. “Ancient. But for an old man, he’s
hawt
.”

“Yeah.” Sammie winced. “I guess I’ll shut up now.”

“Good plan,” Connie said, but she smiled to let Sammie know she wasn’t angry.

She glanced at Des, who had his back to her. She liked the long legs in worn denim, the broad shoulders, and narrow waist. The loose plaid wool jacket didn’t hide his shape. After years in the military, she was used to closely trimmed hair, but she even liked the thick black braids that hung smoothly down his back. She knew his eyes would be dark and serious as he spoke with Stag and his other friends. His features were strong and regular. Even his stoic, almost grim, expression couldn’t rob his high cheekbones and full mouth of their beauty. When he took a step closer to Stag, the worn denim cupping his firm round ass moved with him. His face was handsome, but his body was utterly gorgeous. As Kathy said, he was hot. Her sister would have called him
lickable-licious
. Connie always thought that was a ridiculous word for a grown woman to use. It was more suited to someone Sammie’s age. But looking at Des now, she decided
lickable-licious
was the perfect word to describe him.

Jodi and Dixie, two crash survivors who had worked as counselors back home and now used their training to help the other crash survivors deal with the trauma of losing everything they had known, came forward to give her hugs and well wishes. “Tell Tami to keep her mind in the present,” Jodi whispered.

Connie lifted an inquiring brow, about to ask for more information, when she remembered Tami had come for counseling. The cryptic message must be something to do with that. “Sure,” she said.

“Congratulations to you,” Dixie said warmly. “And to her.”

Des lifted an arm. “Ready to leave?” he called.

Connie nodded, handed Sherry her cane and picked up her own. Sherry adjusted the scarf tied around her neck and head. She looked twice her normal petite size, only her black eyes, with their exotic tilt, showing through the layers of wool she was wrapped in. “We’re ready,” Connie confirmed.

Katie gave her a hug, and so did Kathy, as well as more than half the other survivors. Connie accepted the hugs, trying not to show her discomfort. She was not a hugger. It was almost a relief to step out of the house into the vicious wind.

There were more men she didn’t know outside, plus three dogs. Sherry flinched at the sight of them. No, not dogs, Connie realized. Those must be more werewolves from Taye’s Pack. She had seen the wolves in the Clan camp two months ago, and she had seen Stag as a wolf a few times, but she’d never been so close to a wolf before. Des gave brief orders, and the men and wolves fell into protective formation with her and Sherry in the center. Des gave Connie a micro-smile before he moved forward to take point.

Connie lowered her head to prevent her eyeballs from freezing in the sharp wind. Snow blew past her, skimming over the surface of the crusted snow on the ground, pushed by the incessant wind. This was not the best day for a walk. The men ahead broke a path through the snow, but even so it was hard going for two women who had to use canes to walk. Why in the world was Sherry going to the den? The only reason Connie was making this trek was because she was going to her wedding. She looked at Stag, wondering what argument he’d used to convince Sherry to come on this trip.

Connie concentrated on taking one step at a time. The snow was up to mid-calf in some places, and over her knees in others. She glanced sideways at Sherry, and saw she was having an even harder time. Connie could feel the dull ache in her ankle beginning to flare into burning pain; she could only imagine that Sherry was in the same pain, or probably more. The fragile woman was probably regretting agreeing to come.

She tugged down the scarf over her mouth. “How are you doing?” she asked Sherry in a near shout. A gust of wind tried to bully its way down her throat, nearly choking her. She turned her head to the side and yanked the scarf back up.

Sherry’s slender shoulders seemed to roll under the coat in a shrug, but Connie wasn’t sure. “I’m okay,” Sherry said, stabbing her cane into the snow to balance herself for another step.

Connie was pretty sure it was a lie. She was also sure that Stag would do something to help Sherry. They had trudged for only about ten minutes when Stag picked Sherry up, cane and all, and carried her in his arms like a baby. From the muffled sound of Sherry’s voice, she was protesting, but the protests didn’t last long.

Des dropped back beside her. “Your pace is falling off,” he said.

Connie almost laughed. The wind-twisted words sounded like he was concerned about her
face
falling off. The slivers of skin exposed to the wind burned, making her wish her face would fall off. Damn, she hated being cold.

“It’s slow going in the snow,” she replied.

He was quiet for a minute, matching her slow, painful steps. “We’d make better time if I carried you,” he suggested.

Thank God. She was glad he asked instead of ordered, but she was more than ready to get off her feet. “Good idea,” she agreed.

In a minute he had her in his arms, her cane tucked neatly under his arm and her face pressed to his throat. The warmth of his body sank into her. How he could be so warm when he was wearing only a lined flannel shirt, she didn’t know. It had to be ten freaking degrees, and the wind made it feel like it was below zero. But he was warm. And he smelled good. Even with the scarf covering her nose, his scent was divine. She inhaled the clean scent deeply into her lungs, wishing she had done more than just wash her face and brush her teeth this morning. She probably reeked.

In a former life, the place the wolves called their den had been a chain motel. It was half buried under snow now, but Connie remembered it from the stop they’d made here on the journey from the Clan camp to the Plane Women’s House. She lifted her face from Des’ neck when they stopped for a moment while the gate was opened. A tall chain link fence surrounded the long one-story building, and a generous expanse of yard as well. There were two guys on the gate, neither of them dressed for the cold. Crazy werewolves. No. Crazy wolves. Connie reminded herself that they didn’t like being called werewolves.