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Wolf's Promise Page 5


  Aaron pulled out into traffic, trying to ignore the way the soft touch of Lyla’s lips still tingled along his. He’d known it would only be one night, could only ever be one night. Yeah, so what about Mari? How come Lucas gets to keep her all tucked away safe at the house—

  He cut off that thought. It was a little too close to what he wanted. At forty-five, Aaron was ready for something more in his life. More than being the dutiful son, the responsible brother. The reliable beta. He could imagine bringing Lyla home to the pack house, introducing her to Elizabeth and Mari. Or maybe moving her into the cabin they were finishing just to the north. With him. Not that Lyla would go. “We just won’t suit.” Who said things like that? But he knew what it was about.

  No one was around, so he smacked his palm against the steering wheel. Idiot! He’d been like a first time pup— too eager for finesse, too desperate for subtlety. Why hadn’t he paid more attention? With just a little bit more patience, he could have kept her with him for that second climax. Could have carefully, gently—

  But no. He’d been in too much of a rush, too crazed with lust, and he’d just lost control. Just overwhelmed that little nerve center, flooded it with sensation, and forced the response. Some women liked that. Even preferred it. Not Lyla. Just when he needed all his skill, he’d gone with brute force, at least that second time. But he’d wanted—needed—to feel her tighten around him again, just once more, and he hadn’t really had the control to wait for it.

  Maybe you didn’t think it would matter— if it’s only one night…

  Dammit. He smashed his fist against the steering wheel. Hard. Especially if it’s only one night… Now she would think he was some kind of half-crazed beast. And he had been. That was the truth of it. By the time he’d gotten her home, he’d been out of his mind with lust. His usual careful control— just gone. He blew out a breath, long and slow. There was nothing he could do about it now.

  His phone buzzed and he fished it out, glad for a distraction. He glanced down at the display. It was Lucas. O-kay. Not that glad.

  “Yeah,” he said, bracing for the reprimand, but Lucas’s rapid-fire French was not what he was expecting.

  “Jesse and Dean are down at a warehouse in Brooklyn, and they think some of the loners Marten brought with him to Mont-Tremblant have been through it. That rabble still hasn’t taken on a full pack-scent, so they’re hard to track. Dean thinks Aster might have been through there too, so I need to check it out. I want to bring Gage with me. Can you spare him? I know you’re still working out the kinks in the security system.”

  Aaron thought for a minute. If Lucas took Gage, that would leave only him and Cray to keep an eye on things here. But Lucas might need Gage. Marten’s lone wolves weren’t the only ones who were tricky to track. Aster was a master.

  “Take him. Cray and I can handle things for a few days.”

  “Done. Now get your ass back here. We leave as soon as you arrive.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Good.” Lucas clicked off.

  Aaron suppressed a sigh. The disapproval from Lucas was sharp and uncomfortable. In all the years they’d known each other, they’d rarely clashed. His mouth tightened. Except for a few months ago when he and the others had convinced Lucas to start this new pack. That had been Aaron’s idea. Keeping it safe had to be his number one priority.

  Regret and chagrin roiled through him. He could hardly believe how ready he’d been to risk everything for Lyla. Willing to toss aside his loyalty to the pack, his responsibilities… Not that it mattered.

  He shut down that line of thought. Clicking his phone to life, he scrolled through his contacts. He was going to need his brothers down here sooner than he thought.

  Chapter 4

  Elizabeth lay on her back on the blanket, listening to the birds chirp and flutter busily through the birch trees that surrounded this patch of grass. The Rabbit River gurgled slowly past, lazy here by this bend in the river. The white branches of the trees spread gracefully above her, decked in the bright clear green of new leaves. Seen against the vivid blue of the April sky, it was truly lovely. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the comforter that covered her. Maybe she should get dressed, but it was so pleasant lying here in the dappled sunlight… She stretched and shifted to her side, a soft smile coming to her face. This view was arguably even better.

  Cray sat on the bank of the river, the broad expanse of his back and shoulders a warm golden bronze in the sun. He was wearing his jeans, but nothing else. His black hair gleamed, hanging in loose waves almost to his shoulders. Her smile deepened. She liked to play with the soft curls there, just at the base of his neck. He cast his fishing line into the small pool created by the bend in the river, the play of his back muscles graceful and controlled. Even now, with her body sated and relaxed, she could feel the pull of him.

  “I thought fish only bite in the early morning, or right around dusk?”

  Cray smirked at her over his shoulder. “Someone didn’t want to get out of bed in the early morning.”

  She shrugged, then tugged the blanket up as his eyes dipped to her chest. “You could have come down here by yourself if you wanted.”

  He gave her a look and turned back to his fishing. She couldn’t help the silly grin that spread over her face. She could feel the deep contentment coming off him, emanating out from him in soothing waves. That was probably the hardest thing to get used to since the bond took hold, the way she could always feel him, sense where he was, along with any strong emotion. It wasn’t anything like in the stories though. There was no confusion over whose emotions she was feeling. They were clearly his. She could feel them coming from him the same way she could feel his body heat, just from a lot farther away. It had developed slowly over the two weeks following their Moonrise Ceremony, and now she could feel him even if he went into town. Although that was more a general sense of which direction and how far away he was.

  And when they made love, feeling the strength of his desire definitely enhanced her own. A little shiver ran through her at the thought. Cray twisted and glanced at her, his eyes soft and knowing. A slight smile curved his lips.

  That was the problem. It was hard for a girl to keep any secrets. She pulled the blanket more securely around her, raising her chin. Cray’s eyes slid down her blanket-wrapped form and back up to her face. He smiled and turned back to the river.

  “This will be a good place for swimming in the summer,” he observed. “Perfect for skinny-dipping.” He shot her a crooked smile, shifting so he could watch her.

  “I thought werewolves didn’t like to swim.”

  Cray grimaced, and Elizabeth relaxed a little, the pull of him easing. That was the other thing that was hard to get used to. The constant tug, like Cray was some kind of gravity well, pulling her towards him. She had to fight not to collapse into him, stay glued to his side like some kind of barnacle. Fortunately, Cray didn’t seem to feel any need to fight it, usually coming to her and releasing her from the battle.

  “People of the Moon, Elizabeth. Why can’t you just call us what we are?”

  She hid a smile. She never could resist yanking his chain. “It’s too long. Werewolf is easier.”

  He sighed and put down his fishing rod, coming to sit next to her on the blanket. “Where do you get these ideas? Why wouldn’t we like water?”

  “Well, in all the stories, the werewolves just sink. Something about muscle density and being too heavy to float.” She blinked at him innocently. “Of course, that’s what makes them so strong.”

  “Elizabeth.” He rolled his eyes, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You and your stories. The People are natural creatures. We can swim just fine. In both forms. We’re stronger,” his modest shrug was ruined by his sly smile, “and faster because we’re bigger. Mostly.” He looked thoughtful. “Although Dean was going on about something to do with muscle density a while back... Twitch factor. And I think bone density. I wasn’
t really paying attention.”

  He slipped a hand under the blanket, sliding it along her calf. “But it’s true we don’t have such soft, succulent flesh.” He grinned wickedly at her and slid his hand higher. “Such tender underbellies.” His hand moved over the part in question, making her stomach muscles ripple. She squirmed away, but he slid down next to her, pulling her closer. “Such luscious, juicy thighs.”

  Okay—that’s it! She wrenched herself away, sitting up with the comforter tucked around her. She squinted at him. “Tender, is it? Succulent? So what was all that crap about willowy?”

  Cray sighed and flopped down on his back. “Elizabeth. Not this again.”

  “Yes, this again.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not an easy thing to accomplish without losing the comforter. “Maybe if you do a good job explaining it this time, we won’t have to keep going over it.

  “You know that’s not what I want. I was just angry. I shouldn’t have said it. Okay?”

  He slanted a glance at her. She sat there unmoving. “Fine.” He sighed again, throwing an arm across his eyes. He didn’t want to go into all this, but he’d hurt her, enough that the stupid comment still bothered her even now.

  “There was this girl who came to stay with the pack one summer; I must have been about twenty. No, wait. I was twenty-two.” He slanted another glance under his arm. “She was tall and blond…” Cray let his voice go dreamy and stole a quick peek at her. “She had these long tan legs…” Elizabeth’s mouth tightened, and a hot spurt of jealousy shot along the bond. He hid a smile.

  “I followed her around all summer, but she never gave me the time of day, so you can just relax.” Elizabeth radiated annoyance. Her beautiful green eyes were slightly narrowed. She was probably wishing she had something to hit him with. Well, she wanted to hear this.

  “I guess I just got it into my head that I wanted someone like that.” He took in Elizabeth’s stiff posture and sat up, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. “She completely ignored me—because I’m a half-blood. She pretended I wasn’t even there. I thought—”

  He broke off, searching her tight, closed face, and forced himself to continue. “I think I thought if I could get someone like her to—to want me—then the pack would have to accept me. Really accept me.” Her face softened and he felt the tight hold on her emotions ease a little. A tiny beam of compassion leaked through the bond. He breathed out a sigh and pulled her towards him. “It was silly, but I was twenty-two and trying to find my place in the pack… I guess the idea just stuck with me.”

  He stroked her back and she accepted his caress. “But I was wrong. From that first moment,” he leaned back so that he could see her face, “the moment I tackled you, I knew it. I wasn’t happy about it—the way you so easily captured my complete attention—” His smile turned wry. “And also showed no interest in giving me the time of day.”

  He still remembered that first morning, seeing her in the light for the first time. Finding out what in the dark had looked like dull brown, very average hair was actually a rich amber, shot through with gold and copper. Elizabeth had the most beautiful hair he’d ever seen. Discovering that the curve of her thighs was enough to drive him crazy—

  She smiled grudgingly. “Well… I guess you grew on me.” She gave him a hard look. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that snowmobile ride.”

  Cray laughed. “Yeah, that was fun.” She smacked his arm and he laughed again, pulling her closer. “Come on,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “That was fun.”

  “That was horrible!”

  He nuzzled in closer, sliding his tongue along her bite-mark. She shivered.

  “I got you something.”

  She leaned back, surprised. “What?”

  “I got you something. I saw it and... I thought you might like it.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out the small white cardboard box. She reached out to take it from him. The sun glinted off the diamond solitaire that graced her left hand. He liked that human tradition. Liked marking her with his ring almost as much as his bite. Well, no. Maybe not quite that much. But it still gave him a warm feeling, seeing it there on her finger. This would feel nice too.

  Elizabeth opened the box to reveal the necklace within. The profile of a howling wolf, set in a small circle. She stared at it, something indefinable skating along the bond. He felt a moment of doubt.

  “Cray. This is silver.”

  He shifted. She didn’t like silver? “Yes.”

  “But—”

  And suddenly, he knew. He reached down and plucked it from the box. Her mouth dropped open. He grinned at her. “Let’s see how it looks against your skin.”

  “But Cray— the silver…”

  He shook his head, still grinning. “Stories again, Elizabeth? What could possibly be harmful about silver?”

  He clasped the chain around her neck, letting the pendant settle in the hollow just below her collarbone. Her hand reached up to touch it.

  “But… So… There’s nothing at all to those stories? That’s like— I don’t even know what that’s like.”

  He grinned. “Okay. I’ll give you that. There is a little something to it. But it’s not the silver that’s dangerous. It’s the bullets. Those stories date back to the time when guns were first developed. They fired musket balls. Precision aiming wasn’t possible. Back then, it was nearly impossible to kill one of us with a gun. Unless you got lucky with a direct hit to the heart.” He shrugged. “Or the head. But we’re pretty fast, and targeting something that’s moving... Yeah, that didn’t really happen. Until some witch coven from the late fourteenth century developed a way to infuse silver with a spell that would block our ability to heal, or shift, and made it into bullets. That’s dangerous. Silver amplifies a spell’s power, so—”

  “Wait a minute.” She gave him a look. “You’re pulling my leg. Witches, spells…”

  “No, Elizabeth. I’m not pulling your leg. It’s not common—”

  “So you’re saying there are real witches.”

  Cray nodded.

  “With real magical powers.” Clearly she didn’t believe a word.

  “Not magical powers, no. They have the ability to pull power from without. They pull energy from the world around them. Witches are all about manipulating things. The People are all about the balance of nature.” He shrugged. “We’re natural enemies.”

  “Ah huh.”

  He smiled and pulled her down so she was lying on top of him. “Elizabeth, you listen to all the wrong stories.” His hands found the warmth of her skin under the blanket, unwrapping it from around her to expose the beautiful curves of her body. “Did I ever tell you the one about the big bad wolf?” Her reply was a little muffled, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t really listening anymore.

  Chapter 5

  Aaron looked up from the monitor when he heard Cray and Elizabeth enter the pack house. He was pretty sure he had the software doing what he needed, but he wanted to test it again. Maybe Cray would run the perimeter with him while Elizabeth and Mari fixed dinner. He wanted to double check all the cameras, and he needed to make sure they would alert on all wolves, not just him. Cray would be a good test for that, his black coat was about as different from Aaron’s white fur as you could get. Too bad none of the others were around so they could test the more common gray form, but that would have to wait. He set the system to alert to his phone, put his phone on vibrate, and headed up the basement stairs.

  He found Cray sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote and pretending not to watch Elizabeth as she walked down the hall to Mari’s room.

  “Cray, you up for running the perimeter? I want to check the system.”

  Cray got to his feet. “I could use a run. Sure.” His gaze shifted down the hall where Elizabeth had disappeared. “How long will we be?”

  “An hour?” He shrugged. “Maybe two. That should do it.”

  “You bringing your cell?”

  Aaron nodded.

&nbs
p; Cray looked intently down the hall. Elizabeth’s head popped out of Mari’s door. “What?”

  “Elizabeth, Aaron and I are going for a run. We’ll be back in about two hours. If you need anything, call Aaron’s cell.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to need anything. We’re going to be talking wedding details and making dinner.”

  “Right. I’m outta here. See you later, Mari,” Cray called. He gave Elizabeth a sharp jerk of his chin and headed for the mud room, acting like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. But Aaron could smell his deep well of contentment. Smug bastard. Cray was the only member of the pack with a mate. It was still a little surprising to see all his sharp edges… blunted.

  Aaron shifted first, out behind the tool shed. They had a bench there to hold their clothes now, which was good, because the ground was muddy. He waited impatiently for Cray to strap his cell to his foreleg where he could see it, and then bounded away. Cray would just have to catch up. He needed to run. Fast. He’d showered twice, but he could still smell Lyla on his skin. Maybe the run would sweat her out of his system.

  The ground was damp under the trees, the leaves slippery over a layer of mud from the spring rains. The rich scents of earth and leaf mulch filled his nostrils. He felt his body relax into the rhythmic pace of the run, his mind eased as the natural sounds of the forest enveloped him. They’d check the nearest circle of cameras first and then move outward, testing for gaps in surveillance and making sure the system sent the proper alert signals.

  He breathed in deep, tasting the scents carried on the air. Only the natural things, the expected scents were present. Cray caught him just before the first camera, and they spiraled around in companionable silence. Cray was a good surveillance partner. Focused and professional. If this had been Gage, he would have ambushed Aaron at least three times by now. Gage loved to play. He particularly relished getting Aaron’s white coat covered in mud. But Gage was fun, turning everything into a game. He never failed to pull Aaron out of whatever brooding mood he was in. Right now, he could have used the distraction.