Wolver's Reward (15 page)

As River sat in the chair, watching her sleep
a quiet calm stole over him. It was the same feeling he got from
watching the sun set behind the trees of a forest. The light would
dim to darkness and a quiet stillness would settle over the woods.
In that short time between daylight and darkness, when the daytime
animals settled in for the night and before the nocturnals were
fully awake, the woods would be at peace. It was his favorite time
of day.

He dozed, rousing once when he heard a car in
the lot. It was only the motel's owner leaving. Harry was probably
driving off to the nearest bar to find some peace of his own. An
hour later, he was roused again, this time by the sound of three
motorcycles. The Leathers were probably off in search of food,
leaving Quentin behind to rest and heal.

The girl hadn't changed her position, but her
eyes fluttered beneath their lids and the corners of her mouth
turned up in a contented looking smile. River wondered what she
dreamed of to put that look on her face. Was she dreaming of
sunsets, too? Or of Dennis, and what might have been.

Whatever it was, his own sense of peace was
gone. He left her to it, and went to take a shower. He tore off his
jeans and threw them over the room's heater on top of the tee he'd
left there earlier. The jeans were still damp from the rain and
probably still would be when he came back for them, but damp and
warm beat damp and cold any day.

He washed his body and scrubbed his head
which made him think of the Babe-in-the-bed when he rubbed the
place that she'd split. That brought on the same body reaction as
when he thought of her before. He wasn't about to turn the tap to
cold, so he took care of it with his hand.

His wolf must've been affected by the earlier
blow to the head too, because it did something it had never, ever
done. It hummed the whole time River jacked off.

She sat up in bed in shocked surprise when he
walked out of the bath to grab his jeans.

"Don't worry, you're safe," he told her. He'd
taken care of that in the shower.

"I know," she sputtered.

She pointed at his crotch then slapped the
same hand over her mouth which did nothing to hide the laughter
behind it.

Wolver males weren't particularly shy when it
came to naked displays, so River knew that was one place where he
had no shortcomings. He sure as hell didn't have a hard on, though
the tousled look and lacey bra could change that in a minute.

"What?" he asked. He spread his arms wide and
looked down. "Well, shit."

"Shoot."

"If that's shoot as in shoot me. Go right
ahead."

The reason for her laughter was his shorts,
not what was in them, but on them. No wonder the female driver
smirked and her father raised those bushy white eyebrows. It was
the reason for her mother's amused smile in spite of the turmoil
surrounding them.

He was wearing the pair of undershorts given
to him last Christmas by Dakota and Ranger, two of the packmates
he'd sheltered as pups. They were smart-assed teenagers now, and
full of the devil. At the moment, he wished he'd let them drown
when he had the chance.

The shorts were white cotton with two cartoon
wolves drawn on the front. The wolves were females dressed in sexy
but silly costumes that displayed their big butts and bigger tits.
Their false eyelashed eyes sparkled, literally, with glittery
stars. They were leaning in toward the shorts' fly, their lips
pursed in ruby red heart shaped kisses.

River hadn't paid much attention when he
packed. He'd just thrown whatever was in the drawer into his bag.
He hadn't paid much attention when he dressed in them, either. They
were clean at the time and he wasn't expecting to show them
off.

"If I'd noticed those first, I wouldn't have
hit you with that rock," she giggled. "No guy wearing those could
possibly be a threat to anyone."

"Thanks," he said sourly which made her
giggle some more.

"Please tell me you didn't buy them for
yourself."

He was tempted to tell her he did. What
business was it of hers?

"They were a gift from two cubs who should
have been born squirrels."

"Oh, that would be awful," she laughed,
"Wolves eat squirrels."

"Exactly," he said with a nod of his head. To
change the subject, he grabbed the hanger from the hook on the
door. "I borrowed some dry clothes for you." He didn't tell her
whose they were or where they came from. "They're not cut to size,
but they're dry. I'll finish up in here and then you can have the
shower."

Twenty minutes later she came out of the
bathroom wearing Dennis's clothes. Reb was laughing. She spread her
arms out to her sides, but her attempted curtsy failed when
Dennis's trousers slipped. She cinched the belt a little
tighter.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I think that with a red nose and a funny hat
you could earn a living in that outfit. I'm pretty sure I know
where you can get a car to go with it."

"I've never had a job before. How much does
the circus pay?"

The pants were hiked up so high, the waist
sat under her breasts. Stuffed with billowing shirt, the hips of
the khakis ballooned. The shoulder seams sagged halfway down her
arms. With her long, thin, neck sticking out of the wide, stiff
collar, and long, skinny legs protruding from the tent-like pant
legs, she looked like a pea-headed pear on stilts.

"You can't go out in that. You look
ridiculous."

Hand at her fake waist, she canted her hip
and struck a fashion model pose. "A gentleman would tell me I was
beautiful."

She was, even in the ridiculous outfit, but
he wasn't about to say so. "I think there's one of those gentleman
guys in the other room. You want I should go get him?" He walked
toward the door.

"Don't you dare," she squealed and then her
face fell and she sat on the edge of the unused bed. "They don't
need to think any less of me than they already do."

Outside the motel room window, the sun that
had broken through the gloomy day while they slept and showered,
lost its battle with the clouds. The room darkened and for a
moment, River thought it was because of the loss of her smile.
Shadows loomed and her misery filled the spaces in between.

"Nobody's jumping for joy over there, but
nobody blames you." He sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder.

"Dennis was a good man, a good wolver. He
would have become a great Alpha. The kind that lasts, you know? The
kind that a pack remembers. He had plans and a vision of what those
plans would look like in the future. He had a dream and the ability
to make you see it, too. He made you believe."

River never had that kind of dream unless you
counted the ones he used to have about getting enough food to eat,
and his abilities were limited to fighting, hunting and fishing,
and dragging truant cubs back to school. Alpha Charles had a
vision, he supposed. Other wolvers saw it, but River never did. He
didn't believe in the future. He never had. He only believed in
surviving the day and being grateful when you managed to do it
without dying.

He was pretty sure if he had a dream, Fate
would come along and shit on it.

"My father admired him." Her laugh was sad
and she dropped her voice to mimic her father's words. "He's
self-educated, Margaret. That's my mother," she explained in her
normal voice, and then returned to her father's. "You know how much
I admire a self-made man, particularly one who came from such
humble beginnings. He's highly intelligent and has gone to great
lengths to seek and prove the validity of his visions."

"Does your old man really talk like
that?"

She blushed, giggled, and the sun came out
again, flooding the room with light. "Father doesn't talk. He
intones."

River wasn't sure what intones was, but if it
meant sounds like a fatheaded snob, he was on the right track.

"Please don't judge him by the way he
speaks," she pleaded, still holding the smile. "He's really sweet
once you get to know him, and he always tries to see the best in
people."

"So what did he see in Dennis's pack?"

"Well," she hedged and winced. "He didn't
really see them. When we met with the prospective Alpha's, they
each brought one representative from their pack."

"And Dennis brought Ben."

"Why, yes, how did you know?" She looked
surprised and then her eyes brightened with enlightenment. "Oh, I
forgot you met with them. They told you, didn't they," she
concluded.

"No, but I guessed." Ben was the type that
cleaned up pretty well and could turn on the charm when he needed
to. "Just like I'm guessing you should have waited for your father
to meet the rest of them before inviting them into your pack."

"They still want to?" She nodded in
satisfaction. "I knew it. They were handpicked by Dennis. His dream
will live through them."

"Yeah, but how's Daddy gonna take it?"

"My father will proclaim it a social
experiment," Reb stretched her neck and declared with a pompous and
mocking bobble of her head, but her laugh was affectionate. "He'll
write a paper on it that no one will ever read, and call it the
Inherent Proclivity for Social Order Among Wolvers or something
like that. He's written dozens of them." She shrugged and sighed.
"On a more practical level, we need them."

"Is that your opinion or your father's?"

"Mine. Practical is the one word that's
missing from my father's extensive vocabulary." This time, her head
tilted to the side when she lifted her shoulders. "Father is a
dreamer."

"And you're not?"

River was sorry he asked when a shadow of
sadness clouded her face. She recovered quickly, but he'd seen it
and so had his wolf. The creature whined in sympathy and it urged
him to move closer to Reb as if she needed protection from some
outside threat. River followed his wolf and put his arm around her
and rested his hand on her shoulder. She fit perfectly within its
circle.

His reward for this show of comfort came when
she relaxed against him and laid her head on his shoulder. The
scent of her hair struck him. Who knew cheap motel shampoo could
smell so good?

"No, I don't have dreams," she said, though
River sensed it was a lie, just as he sensed her next comment was
meant to change the subject. "My mother falls somewhere in
between."

"How you figure?" he asked. He didn't really
want to know. He only asked so she'd keep talking and stay where
she was. He rested his cheek against the softness of her hair. He
was rewarded again when Reb moved a little closer and fitted
herself more snugly against him. Her heat burned against his side
and made a beeline to his crotch.

"Mother's dreams are all for me. She loves me
and wants what's best for me, but she's caught between the
proverbial rock and a hard place. I think she had her doubts about
the Chase, but she couldn't voice her opinion. She's a lady, born
and raised to be an Alpha's Mate. My father's opinions are hers and
she supports her Alpha as any good Mate should." She said it like
she was repeating a schoolroom lesson. "Maybe she's right. Look
what my opinions did last night. Good wolvers died because of me."
She tilted her head and looked up at him. "Do you know what
happened to Martin, the other Alpha? Did he die, too?

"No, he didn't die. He didn't hang around
long enough." There was a burning in his gut as if someone had
fanned the hot coal he always carried inside.

"That's good," she said and the burning in
his gut caught fire. "My father thought he'd be a good match for
me," she went on. "Martin didn't want a merger, but he had money to
invest. He was young and ambitious and my father thought he'd take
care of me and he seemed nice enough. I'd feel awful..."

Reb had said nothing, done nothing that would
set his anger ablaze, but there it was, burning hot without
reason.

"Don't you dare," he said harshly. He grabbed
her shoulders and turned her to him. "Don't you dare feel bad about
him. He's not worth the dirt under your feet. He and his crew took
off at the first sign of trouble. He didn't care about you. He only
cared about himself and you should be glad he's gone."

"But what happened wasn't right. It wasn't
fair," she began, but River cut her off again.

"There's no such thing as fair. If there was,
that bastard wouldn't be an Alpha in the first place. He'd be dead
because he doesn't deserve the mantle. He saw what was going down,
same as I did. He knew what would happen to you, same as I did, and
he did jack shit to stop it. He left you, Reb, like you were a
piece of meat that wasn't worth fighting over. How fair is that? An
Alpha should be willing to die for his Mate. He should cherish her
like the gift she is and if he can't do those things, then he
shouldn't have her. Fair would be if he walked through that door
this minute so I could kill him myself and not for his goddamned
mantle, either."

Fair didn't make Reb a trophy to be won in a
race. Fair didn't toss pups like Meadow and Dakota and Ranger into
a world where they couldn't survive. Fair didn't give someone as
sweet and gentle as Forest a monster for a father. Fair wouldn't
let her witness that monster kill her mother. Fate did that. She
rolled the dice and you were either a winner or a loser. For the
lucky few, Fate would roll the dice again, as she had for the pups
taken in by Wolf's Head, but for most, the die that was cast at
birth stuck. For the first time in his life, River realized you
didn't have to be born a rogue to be born a loser. Reb was a loser,
too, and that thought enraged him.

"You can't expect fair, Babe, but someone
like you should expect a helluva lot more than a coward for an
Alpha."

"River," she said, her soft voice filtering
through the haze of his growing anger. "Please?"