Fated Mate: Paranormal Werewolf Romance (Fated Mountain Wolf Pack Book 1) Page 8

  She might be one of those. Few humans had the genes, and everyone in the pack—shifters, dreamwalkers, spelltalkers, even dormants who never showed their genes—everyone took care to guard the virus and safeguard the Bite.

  If she stimulated the latent fever that lay within all wolf shifters, and by the heat racing through his blood he knew she did—it meant only one thing: Gwynn had to have at least one of the genes for Lycanthroism. And that meant she was a precious commodity. A rare potential mate.

  More than likely she only had one gene and would never share the exhilaration of going wolf, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Gwynn. If he lost the land, if he pissed off Leon, he would deal. He would protect her. At all costs.

  The water was still running. How long had he stood here? Too long. Aaron shook off his problems. The urge to see Gwynn, to claim her still ran under the skin of his control.

  He knocked on the locked door. “Gwynn, are you okay?” No response. He shook the door knob, rattling the thin wood. “Hey, honey, open the door.”

  The only sound was the shush of water, which by now had to be stone cold. The hair on the back of his neck lifted. Something was wrong. Aaron shook the door again. He put his shoulder to it, smashing the wood to pieces, and almost falling into the tiny shower stall. He fought free of the curtain until he could see every inch of empty tile.

  The need for Gwynn screamed through him, and he doubled over. His brain shut down for one—two—three minutes as he wrestled control back from his fear.

  Where the hell was she?

  He sniffed the air. If he hadn’t been so distracted when he’d come in, he would have noticed her scent was cold and she’d been gone awhile. If he’d missed that, what else had he missed? Panic raced through him at the obvious conclusion. Leon had her.

  He stifled his swell of wolf-rage, took a deep breath, and slowed down, forcing his brain to overcome the anxiety sucker-punching him in the gut. No one had come up the road. He’d seen no one while he’d been on the phone, just the clean snow on the isolated road. Gwynn’s clothes were still hung up on various chairs and tables, but his backpack was gone.

  Relief trickled through him, making him weak. The theft of his backpack told him she’d left on her own two feet. She was spunky, he had to give her that.

  Despite his fears and need, at this point, given the conversation he had to have with Leon, Gwynn would be safer if she were far away from him. He’d tell Leon that she was gone, that he hadn’t been able to hang on to her, even though he knew the boss wouldn’t accept that. He’d expected Aaron to do the same quality job he always did. And it was likely he’d suspect Aaron had something to do with it.

  He could deal with that. If Gwynn was safe, he could do anything. What he couldn’t deal with, what sent his blood to pounding, was the awareness that Gwynn was out in a blizzard in nothing but his sweatshirt. If he didn’t find her, she’d be dead from exposure.

  He would never see her again except as a frozen corpse.

  Skipping his coat and boots, he stripped off his socks, going barefoot into the storm to examine the ground. The snow had fallen thick and fast since he’d gotten off the phone. How long had she been gone? How long had he stood there in an empty cabin while precious time ticked away?

  At least thirty minutes total, maybe forty-five. By now she could have frostbite. There was no sign of which way she’d gone, and the snow covered her scent from his human nose. He’d have to shift to wolf.

  He stripped off his clothes fast in anticipation of the hunt. Snow running as a wolf was fun. Hunting in snow ratcheted it up to a thrill. But hunting a mate in the snow was an exhilaration that sang high in his blood.

  He shifted and exulted in his freedom to pursue.

  Once in the snow, his wolf’s Technicolor sense of smell provided a wealth of information, and he followed Gwynn’s trail with no problem. The smell of oranges overlaid the intoxicating honeyed smell of woman that was all Gwynn. She permeated his senses so deeply, he’d recognize her scent through death and beyond.

  Aaron moved into a lope and followed the trail to the first joint. If he’d been tracking in human form, he never would have seen that. Instead of taking the path that would lead her down to the road and possible people, she’d taken a trail that led nowhere but deeper into the wild of the Rocky Mountains.

  His lope became a run. Please don’t let me be too late.

  He nearly ran past the hump in the snow where she’d wrapped up in a wool blanket and pulled some branches over her in a makeshift tent. He swelled with pride in his chosen mate. She was smart, but she was curled in a tight little ball, still as oblivion.

  He nosed her, and the heat of her scent nearly knocked him over.

  She was alive.

  He nosed her again, harder. She opened her eyes and sucked in a gasp, freezing still. Damn. He’d forgotten. Gwynn had no idea there was a person inside the gray wolf. Her breathing became ragged, and her scent sharpened with fear.

  Her body stiffened. She was about to run.

  His wolf braced for the hunt.

  Aaron fought back the Fever-driven instinct to chase down his mate and take her. He was still human. The Fever hadn’t yet stolen all his faculties.

  At least not yet.

  He dropped flat on the ground, gave his best doggy whine, and stuck out his tongue. The goofy pose worked.

  Gwynn’s pale lips quirked into a smile and she held out a hand.

  He slinked forward, belly-down, and sniffed. She was so cold, even her scent was chilled.

  “Hey, pal, what are you doing here?” She half sat up. “Do you have an owner around? Hello? Anyone out there?”

  Only the hush of the blizzard answered.

  She shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s just you.” He edged in even closer and snuggled up to her.

  “What are you doing? Ugh! Wet dog!” He pressed against her until she had to put her arm around him or get forced out into the snow.

  Being close to Gwynn calmed his anxiety. She was cold but not in danger. Her extra clothes, the wool of the blanket, and the tent of snow over everything had kept her warm.

  She tented the blanket over them. “I guess it’s okay. At least you’re warm.”

  He kept his warm furry body pressed to her cold one. The thrum of the claiming fever still rushed through his blood, but it wasn’t bad. Yet. The urge to claim, to bite, to possess would lie low, like an underground stream ready to rise up and flood the land.

  They were safe. He’d keep her warm, and when the snow stopped, they’d head back to the cabin. Then his problems would start. He’d have to tell Gwynn everything. Why he worked for a loan shark. Why he’d kept it a secret. And he’d have to tell her that Mike Leon was a dangerous man whose patience was gone.

  He settled down, nose pressed close to the sweet scent of Gwynn, and watched her eyes flutter shut. As his tension eased and he drifted into sleep, he wondered—should he tell her everything before or after he claimed her as his mate?

  Chapter Nine

  Gwynn lifted the edge of the snow-encrusted blanket. She and her enormous new friend peered out at a heavy, leaden sky.

  “Snow’s stopped. I need to get going, pal.” Thanks to the dog, her blanket cave had become a warm sanctuary she didn’t want to leave, but it was time. The dog stood up and stretched.

  “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you, dog?” His jaw dropped open in a canine grin, and she swore he winked before he trotted away into the forest leaving her alone.

  The wind blew an icy blast where his warm body had lain next to hers all night, and she shivered.

  “Wait! Come, back! Come here, boy. Come!” She whistled into the cold but the dog didn’t come back.

  Everything was too quiet, just the shush of the wind blowing through the branches of the pines and empty winter-bare bushes. No one was here. No one would come. Not even her temporary canine companion.

  She was alone.

  “Come back,” she whispered into the sil
ence.

  She wrapped her over-large coat around her. Not even the dog would stand by her. Her zeal to keep going dwindled down to almost nothing. A dark cloud of depression settled around her heart. Then the bushes began to shake. But it wasn’t the dog that emerged.

  Aaron stepped out, completely nude, his bare feet shuffling a path through the snow.

  “You’re not alone.” His liquid silver eyes gleamed and her heart seized.

  He’d found her.

  Her whole body shook, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Was this anger? Fear? Excitement? How was she supposed to feel facing the man who was her rescuer, her jailer, and the man who’d brought her to orgasm again and again.

  She’d trusted him.

  Suddenly, she knew exactly how she felt. Angry. Very angry.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Aaron? And where are your clothes?”

  “I didn’t think to bring clothes.” He stepped closer and reached for her pack. “You didn’t happen to leave my extra clothes in there, did you?”

  She snatched the pack back. “Extra clothes?” She glanced around, hoping to spot the dog. She could use the backup right now.

  “No problem. I’ll run back as a wolf.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she’d frozen in the snow. She’d heard when you froze to death, you fell asleep. Maybe you had bizarre conversations with people after you died too. But shouldn’t it be with dead people?

  “Look, we need to talk, and even I get cold standing naked in the snow.” He took another step closer and she shrank back. “Can I crawl under there and stay warm, just while we talk?”

  The image of Aaron’s naked body crawling into her makeshift tent and pressing close to her brought an instantaneous rush of moisture between her thighs. She fought the rush of arousal, instead focusing on the steady beat of anger in her blood.

  “Screw you!” He’d betrayed her. She shouldn’t let him in. She should let him freeze.

  “Gwynn, I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “If you’ll just let me explain.”

  He did look sorry. And pathetic, standing out in the cold. Even Aaron’s Johnson couldn’t withstand these kind of freezing temperatures. Her mouth quirked up into a smile.

  His return smile was tentative, and it reminded her how tenderly he’d taken care of her back at the cabin—even if it had been for the wrong reasons.

  No, she shouldn’t give in. The old, naïve Gwynn would see that smile and take pity on the poor man. But she had to be stronger.

  “You stay out there. I’ll see if I have your clothes.” She dug deep in the pack and came up with an extra pair of jeans she hadn’t seen in her hurry to escape. “Here, you can have these.” She tossed them to him. “They’re too big for me anyway.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled them on. A cool breeze sighed through the pines and he shivered, and wrapped his arms around his bare torso, moving from one foot to the other.

  He would freeze to death and it would be her fault. She couldn’t do it, not even if he deserved it.

  She blew out an irritated breath. “Fine, I’m not a monster. I can’t let even you freeze to death. Climb in.” She held out a corner of her blanket shelter. “But only for a few minutes.”

  He scooted in to the spot the dog had warmed up and tried to nestle in and wrap his arms around her.

  She steeled herself against the urge to slide down into his surprisingly warm embrace and moved away. “None of that. You owe me an explanation. Talk.”

  “I’m not sure where to start.” He tilted his head back and stared at the late afternoon sky piled high with heavy clouds.

  “How about you start with the truth? Who are you?”

  “I didn’t lie to you, Gwynn. My name really is Aaron. Aaron Bardolf.”

  “Oh yeah? I heard you talking to that man. You knew the phone worked. What do you call that if it isn’t lying?”

  “I never lied, Gwynn. I just didn’t tell you everything I knew.”

  “And you didn’t tell me you worked for that loan shark.” Her anger was back, making a nice hot ball of rage in the center of her chest. “I’m so stupid, I thought you were a nice guy. Now I find out you’re a criminal.”

  “Hey, I’m only a temporary criminal.” He shifted his weight and his thigh pressed into hers.

  She ignored the heat that flashed low in her belly.

  “Sure. That’s what they all say.” Her dad included.

  “Mike Leon stole a piece of land I was responsible for and I needed to get it back. Getting the job with him was the best way.”

  “What are you talking about? What job?”

  Suddenly, she could feel every foot of the high altitude as she sucked freezing cold air too fast into aching lungs.

  This was all wrong.

  He was supposed to tell her it was all a lie or a misunderstanding. But he wasn’t doing that. Which meant he’d known about her dad, known about the money—he’d known about her.

  He hadn’t rescued her. He’d conned her.

  “Look, it’s cold and you need warmer clothes. We should go back to the cabin and talk there.”

  She was ready to go back. Anything to get out of this close intense proximity and away from him.

  Trying to look anywhere but at his face, she stared at his bare feet and said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Are you going to be able to make it back with no shoes?”

  Stupid Gwynn. If she’d been alone, she would have slapped her forehead. Who cared if he had shoes? He’d lied to her.

  “You didn’t get it, did you? I’ll be fine. I’m a wolf.” At her puzzled stare, he ran a hand through his hair. “That dog you just met. That was me.”

  He was officially crazy. “Umm, okay.” She eased another couple of inches away. If she ran, did she stand any chance of getting away? “Look, we’ll just go back to the cabin and—”

  He took her arm. “Gwynn. I know it sounds insane, but...I’m a wolf shifter. I change from human to wolf. And back. “His face, his eyes, they all said one thing. He believed it.

  The hair on the back of her neck rose and her heart sped in a frightening rhythm. She was snugged up next to a crazy of the most dangerous kind, the kind that believed his delusion.

  She had to get away.

  “Okay, you aren’t going to get it until I change in front of you.” He stood up and began taking off his jeans.

  “You’re taking off your clothes?” She bolted up too. “No way are you getting naked again.”

  He’d already stood gorgeous and nude in the snow. He might be crazy, might be a criminal, but he was still the hottest guy she’d ever been with. Finally, too late, she understood her girlfriends always going for the wrong guys—hot, sexy, and insane.

  “Watch.” His eyes hazed over.

  His skin rippled and shivered. Strange bumps and bulges appeared, there and then gone, like the backs of whales in the ocean. And then...she couldn’t look anymore. What happened to Aaron stretched the boundaries of her mind in a way no one should ever face.

  And then it was over.

  Instead of Aaron, the dog stood in his place. No, not a dog. The sheer size and mass should have told her earlier he wasn’t a dog, but she’d seen what she’d wanted to see. This was a wolf, large and powerful, and the intelligence shining in his silvery gray eyes was definitely more than animal.

  He padded over to her and extended his nose. She flinched back. He whined, bowed his head, and backed away. He paused. Gwynn thought she saw pain and apology in those eyes, but before she could respond, the rippling started the process in reverse.

  Wolf to human. Aaron was back.

  Tiny infinitesimal shakes started in her center, working their way out until she thought she’d shatter from the inside out.

  Aaron stretched out his hand. “Gwynn, I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier.”

  She shook her head violently from side-to-side, as if she could shake out the memory of what she’
d just seen. “Don’t touch me.” She backed away, the over-large boots she wore slipping in the snow, her voice rising higher and higher. “Don’t even come close. I don’t want you near me.”

  Her mind was as empty and clean as a fresh layer of fluffy white snowflakes. She didn’t believe, couldn’t believe, what she’d just seen. But it didn’t matter whether or not she believed. It didn’t even matter if Aaron was a wolf or human, or from some other planet.

  What mattered was he’d lied to her. About everything.

  Heat flashed through her frozen body, propelling her past the fear and pain straight into a chilly numbness where the only thing she felt was anger. “We’re going back to the cabin. And you’re going to help me get out of here. I’m going home.”

  “Gwynn, wait—”

  “No. I’m done listening.” She shook out and folded up the blanket. “I’m cold and tired and hungry. And I want to go home.” She pushed his jeans with one foot. “I guess you’re traveling without these?”

  “Can you put them in the pack?” His voice held that cautious note that drove her crazy, the one that said: some woman is acting totally out of control and the men in her life had better watch out!

  Well, she wasn’t the one at fault here. And she wasn’t crazy. At least she hoped not. Maybe she was crazy, but she couldn’t deal with it now. She had to get the hell off of this mountain. She had to deal with survival.

  For the third time, her stomach twisted as she watched her lover shift his shape. Ex-lover. None of that mattered now, what mattered was getting home where she could try to put her shattered life back together and lick her wounds in peace.

  The hike back was silent. Gwynn struggled on the steep path in the fresh snow, glad she had something to distract her from the ache inside that threatened to take her down. All she wanted to do was go home to her lonely apartment and cry. But fate seemed to be against her, and instead, she had to swallow her pain and deal.