Marked

The Wolf's Den - 1

by

Aline Hunter

Chapter One

Chloe Bryant studied the moon, shivering despite the fact the glowing orb wasn’t entirely full—yet. For two more nights it was safe for the average person to venture into the city. Although supernatural creatures would be out and about, none would slip into violent tendencies.

At least, she hoped they wouldn’t.

A loud, ear-piercing shrill attracted her attention. She looked out the window of the cab, watching a police car rush by. The blue and red lights on the top flashed like Christmas lights, bright and blinding. Sadly, the sight didn’t give her a large measure of comfort. Mortal law enforcement could only serve and protect in a limited capacity. She hadn’t been born before the world discovered things like vampires and werewolves were real but she’d heard about how things used to be. Human governments had changed decades ago, after they’d discovered they were pretty much powerless against things that went bump in the night.

When you couldn’t fight an enemy, you acclimated.

Fight the fights you could win. Turn a blind eye to those you’d lose.

The cabbie shifted in his seat and hit the meter. “Cash or credit?”

“Credit.”

She tried not to fidget as the driver—a man who wasn’t entirely human—pushed a few buttons on the dash. The device for credit cards bolted into the mesh screen separating the front and back seats blinked to life. Trying not to wince at the ungodly cost, she swiped her card and pushed the necessary buttons to complete the transaction. Her heart raced, fear and anxiety bleeding together.

The driver looked at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes an iridescent shade of red. “It’s not too late to go home, Little Red,” he said quietly, the words a throaty whisper. “The big, bad wolves will eat you up.”

“Excuse me?”

“A human shouldn’t be alone around here.”

She started, her gaze meeting his through the mirror. “How did you know?”

“That you’re human?” When she nodded, staring at the man in horror, he laughed. “Are you kidding?” Rotating in his seat, he studied her. “Have you looked in a mirror recently? You scream young, innocent and human. Those eyes of yours might fool some people but not me.” He tapped the tip of his nose and sniffed. “My sense of smell is better than most. You’re different but you’re definitely human.”

She felt a blush heat her cheeks. So he’d noticed her oddly colored green irises—irises that had started to change recently. Yes, she was different. How? She didn’t know. She was only aware of the mark on her wrist that had seemed to come to life in the last few weeks. Strange sensations and occurrences had soon followed, starting with sensitivity to scents. After she’d gotten her nose under control, her sense of taste kicked in.

Gorging on meat? Fine and dandy. Nibbling on salad and leafy veggies? No way in hell. Even slathered in dressing, a salad tasted like sandpaper. Her stomach and taste buds rebelled, modifying her food choices.

Then the changes in her body had started.

Her skin had started itching without warning, and the mark etched into her flesh sometimes burned horribly. Her grandparents had become concerned, noticing the changes in her behavior and the lightening of her irises when she became angry or upset. Their constant staring at her birthmark—at dinner, when she helped with chores or when she was relaxing in the living room—prompted her to venture to a tattoo parlor in a dangerous area to remove any trace of the dark crescent shape decorating her pale skin.

As though reminding her of its presence, her birthmark started to itch. Despite becoming a recent habit, she managed not to rub the spot. It felt as though the skin heated from the inside when she thought about the inch-long crescent shape, throbbing in harmony with the drumming of her heart. Since her mother had died when she was only a baby—leaving her in the care of her grandparents—she was afraid to ask too many questions about the damn thing.

Gram and Gramps didn’t like the reddened skin and told her she could never let anyone see it. To complicate matters, the only person she could talk to was her best friend. Of course, personal conversations of the kooky-kind only happened when Rachel was in the mood to discuss such things. Her childhood confidante seemed as skeeved-out by the strange mark as her family. Not to mention Rachel tended to avoid things that made her feel uncomfortable—meaning all things preternatural. That was the primary reason Chloe had made the trip to The Wolf’s Den alone, without asking Rachel to tag along.

“Listen.” The driver cocked his head, watching her closely. She tried not to stare at his slightly pointed ears, wondering for a moment precisely what kind of creature he was. “Once you leave this car, you’re on your own. A temptation like you won’t make it out of The Wolf’s Den. Is what you’re here for worth the risk?”

A shiver ran down her spine and she averted her eyes.

Was it worth the risk? Hell if she knew.

She hadn’t thought coming to Atrum Hill—a dangerous part of Black County—would be that dangerous. All she wanted was to slap a tattoo over the mark on her wrist. She didn’t plan on sticking around. In fact, she’d programmed the cab company’s phone number into her cell. Her grandparents were celebrating their anniversary with dinner and a movie so time wasn’t an issue. If she stayed inside the parlor, no one would see her. She just had to make it inside, get what she came for and return home before midnight like a modern day Cinderella.

But why do you want to make it inside? What is it about this place you can’t shake?

“It’s worth the risk,” she mumbled, getting back on track. She was here now. There was no way she was running like a coward.

“You’re sure?”

No, she wasn’t sure. That was the reason she hadn’t climbed out of the vehicle. She was waiting for a dose of courage to kick in. Her birthmark ached, a sharp, biting burn like needles in her skin. An inner compulsion told her she was doing the right thing, even though she had no idea what the right thing was.

Damn it.

Hiding the mark wouldn’t stop the weird things she’d been experiencing recently—things her doctor hadn’t been able to explain. Anxiety. An increased appetite. Dreams of a man who made her heart race and her body tingle.

She’d never seen her dream lover’s face, but she couldn’t deny the connection they shared. Somehow she knew him, and it was more than dreams of sexual grandeur. Deep down the man felt far more important. It wasn’t about sex. It was about a deeper bond, bringing them closer and closer together. She knew one day the dreams would take on an importance in her life. She just didn’t know how or why. If she were being honest, during the last few weeks nothing seemed to make a whole lot of sense.

“If money is an issue,” the driver offered when she didn’t respond, “I know of a parlor you can visit in the county. But I have to warn you, you get what you pay for.”

Damn it.

What he said was true enough. Human tattoo artists could give her what she wanted. However, they didn’t appeal to her—they didn’t call to her—like The Wolf’s Den. Something deep inside her felt drawn to the place. Why? It was another mystery she’d yet to solve. She’d never ventured to Atrum Hill before, viewing the city only through the television when she watched the news. Her friends avoided the area and her grandfather would kill her for even thinking about coming here.

If Gramps finds out, there’ll be hell to pay.

“Thank you for the concern but money isn’t an issue.” She tried to sound amicable but the man’s interference was beginning to annoy her. “I’ve waited weeks for this appointment. I’m not backing out.”

The driver’s eyes narrowed. He pulled his lips back and she saw pointed canines. “Then by all means.” He motioned to the door and snapped his fingers. “Go get what you came for. I have a job to do.”

Asshole.

“We don’t want to keep you from that, do we?” she snapped, flustered by her aggravation and spider web-thin nerves. “You were the one who wanted to talk. I was being polite.”

Her shaking fingers slipped on the handle but she managed to open the door. Cold autumn air slapped her in the face, taking her breath away. Atrum Hill was aptly named—a small city nestled on top of a mountain. The temperatures were always lower here, although she didn’t believe the rumors it was due to the supernatural residents and not Mother Nature. Placing her feet on the concrete, she steadied herself and climbed out. Her jacket wasn’t enough to ward off the elements, allowing the wind to cut through her clothing.

“Give the company a call if you decide it’s too much for you. We can have a driver here in ten minutes.” He reached for the gearshift and put the car into drive, waiting for her to close the door. “Good luck, babe. You’re going to need it.”

She scowled at the nosy man and used all the strength she possessed to slam the door. To her extreme disappointment, he didn’t seem bothered by her outburst. The cab took off, traveling toward the heart of the city. Lifting her head, she looked at the building directly in front of her. For a split second an odd blast of heat swept through her, obliterating the cold.

The Wolf’s Den.

A couple of cars were parked out front, next to an intimidating-looking motorcycle. The outline of a howling wolf on the sign above the brick building seemed to mock her, The Wolf’s Den written in a clear, bold script beside it. The red neon sign in the large glass window cast a shadow on the sidewalk next to the door, the word OPEN clearly visible. She couldn’t see through the glass, so she didn’t know how many people were inside.

She took deep breaths, telling herself to remain calm. It was nerves again. Making her think the worst. The parlor was inside the city limits but not by much. In fact, if she put her sneakers to the test she could probably run the mile-long distance to the county line. Police patrolled that area more heavily, keeping their mortal residents safe from their preternatural counterparts.

Summoning as much courage as she could, she walked toward the door, opened her bag and removed a few pieces of paper. She wasn’t sure how big the tattoo would need to be so she’d printed the image in several sizes. She’d chosen to go with a simple design—a butterfly—that would mask the red hue on her skin. The tattoo would be understated, enough to notice but not draw attention.

To her relief, the shop seemed just like any other as she opened the door and stepped inside. There were framed images along the walls. A couch and several chairs created a sitting area. The large circular counter in front had a cash register and a few portfolios.

See, it’s not so bad. You’re finally here. You can see what all the fuss is about, get some ink and put this all behind you.

Tension drained from her. Although it was chilly inside the building, warmth crept into her skin. She took a look around, searching for people. Voices drifted from a hallway behind the counter, the cadences deep and masculine. She shook off her worry, remembering the artist who’d booked her appointment. Glancing at the paper in her hand, she saw the information she’d jotted down.

The Wolf’s Den. Thursday. September 13^th. 7:30.

Jackson Donovan.

Out of habit, she went to look at her watch and released an annoyed sigh. One of the positive aspects of having an unwanted birthmark on your wrist—it was easily covered with jewelry. Unfortunately, she’d removed the timepiece before she came, knowing she’d have to take it off anyway. She glanced around until she found a clock nestled at the top of the wall.

Seven twenty-seven. Right on time.

The soft chatter drifting from the hallway stopped. She heard a chair squeak followed by heavy footsteps. Her heart throbbed inside her chest and her palms went clammy. The person she’d spoken with when she’d made her appointment hadn’t given her his name, but he’d sounded like a normal man. She’d assumed that maybe the owner hired human help. But what if she was wrong? Perhaps it wasn’t easy to pinpoint a werewolf.

Maybe they look like everyone else?

A figure came around the corner, hidden by shadow. Goodness he was enormous—well over six feet—with shoulders that seemed to swallow the hallway. She didn’t want to stare but she couldn’t help herself. With each step more of him was revealed, inch by slow inch. She started with his scuffed boots and worked her way up. Worn jeans hugged his thighs, coming up to a tapered waist. The T-shirt shielding his torso was snug, revealing the outline of his muscular stomach.

She swallowed down the knot forming in her throat, waiting to see his face. Dark stubble shadowed his chin and jaw, matching hair that brushed his shoulders. The moment he stepped into the light she inhaled raggedly. His brows were full, positioned perfectly over eyes the shade of autumn leaves. They appeared almost gold, the color vibrant and stunning.

Gorgeous.

The man was absolute perfection.

Her birthmark burned white-hot, yanking her focus from the eye candy she’d been ogling. She covered the spot with her hand, biting back a wince. The papers slipped from her fingers and drifted onto the counter. She realized how she must have looked—grasping at her wrist, dropping her things, unable to meet the man’s gaze.

Just great. So much for playing it cool.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and tried to ignore the ache in her wrist, reaching for the papers as she shifted her purse on her shoulder.

The man beat her to the punch, moving so fast she took an alarmed step back. She lifted her eyes from the large hands holding her belongings, his fingers thick and long, his nails neatly trimmed. His cologne drifted to her nose and her knees almost caved. A balmy cloud covered her, making the room spin. He smelled as good as he looked—a mixture of fresh spring rain along with a woodsy scent that sent an electric jolt from her stomach to her sex.

“Chloe Bryant?” he asked, the words a throaty timbre of sexual promise.

She closed her eyes. He sounded so familiar, as though they’d met somewhere before. “Yes,” she whispered, reminding herself to breathe.

What’s wrong with me?

“Son of a bitch.” He sounded like he was coming closer, walking around the counter. “Let’s get you in the back before someone sees you.”

Sounded like a plan. Right now she couldn’t move. It felt like her feet were rooted to the floor by invisible weights. Her heart was racing, her birthmark pulsing. She opened her eyes when his hand wrapped around her forearm. The spell wasn’t broken but her body did obey her commands. She followed as he guided her to a room on the left of the hallway. She wondered why it didn’t frighten her when he closed the door behind them.

He was a stranger, after all.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said softly and spun her around.

Their hands brushed in a whisper of skin against skin. In an instant, a connection was made. Something inside her reached out to him, desperate for a deeper link. The fuzzy sensation in her stomach exploded, a tidal wave of heat erupting from her pussy. Time seemed to stand still, the walls of the midsized room closing in. She swayed, afraid she might fall flat-faced on the floor. Her breasts felt oddly heavy and swollen, her soft cotton panties suddenly uncomfortable against her clit.

She peered up, meeting the gaze of the ginormous man in front of her.

Oh no.

She knew who he was. She’d done things to him in her dreams that had caused her to wake up on the brink of orgasm—sweaty, panting and shaken by the experience. She didn’t know his name but she’d be willing to bet she could identify every inch of his body without the clothes. He’d have a tribal tattoo on his biceps that extended to his shoulder, the design intricate and mesmerizing.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

Her fantasy lover was here, standing right in front of her.

And she wasn’t asleep.

“It’s you,” she rasped, her throat suddenly tight, staring into the man’s golden eyes.

It’s her.

Jackson Donovan attempted to shake off his shock. He’d known his mate would find him. Dreamsharing only occurred when a female was ready to mate, and his had come at him like a freight train. She’d been nervous but eager in their encounters, shaking off her inhibitions as though she wasn’t aware the dreams were real. He’d known it was in a female wolf’s nature to play hard to get, so he’d bided his time.

Once a woman got a taste of her male, she’d instinctually track him down. Distance wasn’t a factor. Instinct paved the way. What he hadn’t known was the woman who haunted his nights would show up at his shop for a tattoo, or that she’d be human.

Correction. Half-human.

She was a combination of both—wolf and woman—each scent unique and undeniable. Judging by her response to him, she’d never even seen a werewolf before. That being said, he was certain she didn’t know what she was.

Everything slowly came together, providing him with a clearer understanding of his mate. She hadn’t known the dreams were being shared. She hadn’t had a clue what was taking place between them. If that was the case, what in the hell was she doing here? Where had she come from?

He drew a breath, taking in her scent. Pure feminine heat assailed him, clean and rich, the hot fragrance of her cunt slamming into his lungs. She smelled good enough to eat, as sweet and warm as honey. He’d drown in her, lapping at her slit until she came long and hard. Afterward he’d bury himself inside her, fucking them both to oblivion, claiming her in every way imaginable.

What the fuck?

His muscles tensed, his wolf growling in his head. He fought for control, trying to ice his desire. She was human, not wolf. He could scare her if he didn’t watch himself. If he wasn’t careful he could also hurt her, and a werewolf never harmed his mate. He was shaken by his lack of control, caught off guard by how she affected him. His primal urges rushed to the forefront, his wolf ready to take over.

Realization hit, hard and fast.

Damn. She’s on the brink of her season.

A part of him wanted to rage at the injustice of her predicament. Due to her genetics, she might not able to shift. Most wolves considered the inability to change a weakness. Hell, it was one of the reasons humans weren’t mated with unless the man couldn’t resist the nature of his beast. Being half-and-half wasn’t easy, not if you lived a life among a pack.

Fuck. The pack.

It was very possible they’d shit a brick when he introduced her to them, especially if she wasn’t able to shift. Stability was always an issue when it came to wolves but with the tension between the packs in the area things had become worse. The men and women who looked to him for balance would expect their Alpha to do the right thing—to put their well-being over his—even if it meant turning his back on the one woman meant for him.

He suppressed a snarl, fighting for control.He wasn’t letting his mate walk out of his life. Not after he’d waited so long for her. Somehow he’d make things work. It was his responsibility to protect his female and his people. At his age, he’d seen and survived a lot of shit. He’d be damned if he let his mating come in the way of what he’d worked so hard to accomplish.

“My name’s Jackson.” He studied her closely, resisting the urge to reach out and see if her skin was as soft as it appeared. He didn’t want to frighten her more than she already was. “Do you know why you’re here? Do you understand what’s happening to you?”

“What kind of question is that?” She frowned, her arched brows furrowing. “I’m here to get a tattoo.”

Shit. She had no idea what was going on.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?” Frown lines deepened, tugging at the corners of her mouth. “This is so weird. I know you but I don’t. And I feel so strange. It’s like I took a trip down the rabbit hole.”

He forced his hands into fists, trembling with the effort not to pull her into his arms. His fingers itched with the need to touch her, his cock straining against the sharp bite of his zipper. The metal teeth subdued his wolf, the sharp lance of pain into his engorged flesh more than welcome. She needed patient and gentle—two traits he seriously lacked.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” he repeated. Obviously she didn’t, but he had to know. He had to be certain.

She cocked her head to the side, a puzzled expression on her face. “I don’t think so.” Something seemed to dawn on her. Her brows lifted, her plush lips parting. “Wait. Am I dreaming? Is that why you’re here?”

“No, you’re not dreaming,” he replied, trying not to growl in pleasure as she turned to him for answers. Her insecurity made him want to shroud her in his strength, ensuring she would always be safe from harm. It was his responsibility and privilege to see to her needs, something he responded to on a primal level.

“Are you sure?” She looked around the room and then peered up at him, her grass-green eyes wide, pupils dilated. Her legs shifted as though she was trying to stem her sexual excitement. “Because this doesn’t feel normal.”

Talk about an understatement.

Those green peepers of hers indicated she was from one of the most respected packs in his area—the Worthington pack, to be precise. Only Worthington wolves had eyes the color of sunlit peridot, the shade easy to identify. Unfortunately he was at odds with their Alpha and any inquiries about his mate wouldn’t be welcomed. Territory wasn’t always easily established, especially when wolves started crowding each other. Whoever had impregnated Chloe’s mother would be in deep shit. Leaving behind a half-were infant was just asking for trouble.

Who the fuck would do something so stupid?

His rock-hard dick jerked inside his pants, fueled by his female’s scent. He hadn’t been able to see her face until now. That was the way it worked with dreamsharing. The big reveal didn’t happen until a couple came face-to-face. It was nature’s way of promoting a bond that defied all things superficial, bonding a couple together on a deeper mental level. She was more beautiful than he’d pictured. Even if she was slightly younger than he imagined—in her early twenties—she was more than he’d ever hoped for. Her hair was thick, curly and strawberry blonde, the color striking against her shiny green irises.

He pictured her on his bed, those curls spread out on his pillows, her beautiful eyes glazed over as she watched him go down on her. She’d moan as he feasted on her, taking his time, licking her up like candy. He wanted to feel the sting of her nails in his scalp, hear her pleasure as she came against his tongue, the delectable taste of her cream flooding his senses. Even if she begged, he wouldn’t rush, keeping her right where he wanted her. He’d stay between her legs for hours, lapping at her cunt, taking what was his.

A thought struck him, one he didn’t like, yanking him from his erotic musings. He studied his mate—really looked at her—starting at her head and working his way to her toes.

Gavin Worthington—the Alpha of the Worthington pack—had similar coloring and features. Everyone knew he didn’t have children since Gavin and his mate despised each other. It was running joke in the area and a reminder why wolves didn’t usually mate unless they found the person intended for them.

Jackson growled as instinct told him his intuition was spot-on.

Gavin had mated Desiree Benson decades ago despite the lack of a mating bond, bringing two of the most prominent packs in the bordering states together. If Gavin had sex with a human and had left her pregnant, he wouldn’t have been able to say a word to his pack. He might even have left the female and his child to fend for themselves. Desiree would have challenged and killed a human female if her position as Lupa was threatened.

A knock at the door had Jackson spinning around, his lips pulling back as his canines lengthened. He put himself between the door and his mate, the hair on his nape rising, the wolf within snarling to protect what was his. If Chloe was Gavin’s offspring, she had a claim to the bastard Alpha’s pack. Even if she couldn’t shift, she had a God-given birthright.

That put her in danger.

The door opened, revealing the identity of their guest. Jackson’s business partner and pack Beta didn’t move, standing in the open doorway. It didn’t take long for Declan to put two and two together. Jackson’s rage was easy to scent, and the fragrance of Chloe’s desire hung heavy in the room.

“Oh shit.” Declan glanced at Chloe, his nostrils expanding as he took a deep breath and growled, “Oh fuck.”

Jackson relaxed but remained where he was, partially shielding his female from view. He’d told the Beta about the female in his dreams, warning Declan life in the pack was about to change. Since he’d never gotten violent over a woman before, he was certain Declan knew the score.

“Oh fuck is right.”

“You’ve got to get her out of here. She’s almost in season.” Declan’s eyes shifted from brown to amber. “Her mating scent is all over the place.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered and shook his head.

It was hard enough keeping his hands to himself. Until he mated Chloe and marked her with his own scent she’d be like a drug to other males. Even if he stated she was his he’d have to fight any would-be suitor who wanted to take his place.

“Actually, I think I’m going to go,” Chloe said and started to inch around him, the sharp smell of her fear spreading through the room. “Coming here was a bad idea.”

I don’t think so.

Jackson reached out, snagging her by the wrist.

The contact did exactly what he knew it would.

She whimpered and cried out, sagging as he tugged her toward him. The days preceding the full moon were difficult on a female in season. She had to be feeling the changes, drawn by the desire to mate, beginning the transformation to her other form if she was able to change. Until a male—preferably the female’s mate—spent his seed inside of her, the ache would only worsen.

That’s why he’d held himself back, trying to give her space. The first touch had muddled her thoughts. A second would throw her completely off balance, until all she could think about was the sexual frustration she was sure to be experiencing.

And the poor thing didn’t have a clue what she was dealing with.

She didn’t fight or struggle, resting against his chest as he urged her closer. She felt perfect against him—exactly right. A growl of contentment carried up his throat, his wolf eager for her touch.

“What’s the matter with me? This has to be a dream. I just have to wake up.”

She sounded confused but aroused. He knew how she felt. At the moment—despite the uncertainty of their future together—he could have pounded nails with his dick.

He brought her close, snaking his free arm around her waist and meeting Declan’s gaze. “She has no idea what’s going on.”

“I kinda figured that,” Declan retorted, a smile on his face. “You didn’t tell me she’s human.”

“Half-human,” Jackson corrected and narrowed his eyes, lowering his voice. “And keep that information to yourself. I’ll address the pack when I’m ready.”

“You can’t hide her forever.” There was a warning in Declan’s tone, one that Jackson didn’t appreciate.

“I don’t plan to,” Jackson reprimanded the Beta with a snarl. He put the male in his place by looking him in the eye, forcing Declan to lower his gaze. “I need some time to sort things out before I present my mate to the pack.”

“Then I suggest you hurry. I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.” Declan took another step back, retreating into the hallway. “I’ll deal with the pack until the full moon.”

There was a reason he trusted Declan. Despite his annoying tendency to run off at the mouth, the Beta was always reliable. “I’m taking the car. Put my bike in the garage and cancel my appointments. If there’s an emergency call my cell. I’ll be in touch.”

Bending at the waist, he slid his arms beneath Chloe’s legs and back and lifted her to his chest. “Come on, sweetness.”

“Whoa, wait.” She squirmed against him, slapping at his chest. “I can’t leave with you!” When he tightened his grip, she screamed, “What do you think you’re doing? Put me down! Right now!”

“Oh man.” Declan laughed and moved to the side, giving Jackson room to pass. “You’re going to have your hands full with that one.”

“Laugh it up,” he grumbled, wrestling with the female who was struggling to break free. If he’d had more time he would have been patient with her. Unfortunately he didn’t have that luxury. “One day this’ll be you.”

“Let go!” Chloe shrieked. “Get your hands off me!”

She landed an elbow to his gut but he didn’t stop, striding for the door. He had to get her out of here while he could. If word got out that he’d found his mate—that his mate was human, for fuck’s sake—he’d have to deal with the pack, the current discord with Gavin Worthington and his mate’s moon heat.

Don’t get ahead of yourself. Focus on one thing at a time.

They made it to his car without incident but the instant her feet touched the ground she tried to run. He caught her with ease, forcing her against the side of the vehicle. There was no time like the present to establish who was boss. He wedged his thighs between hers so she could feel the hard ridge of his cock. Her eyes went wide, her full lips parting in surprise.

“I understand this is confusing but what you’re feeling isn’t going to go away. You need this.” He shoved his hips forward, pushing his pulsating length against her belly, grinding his teeth at the contact. “Over and over again. And you need it from me.”

“This is crazy,” she whispered, fingers shaking as she rested her hands on his chest. The sweet smell of her pussy drifted to his nose. She might be shaken but she was also hotter than the asphalt in summer. “We don’t even know each other.”

“Yes, we do.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her nose. “In fact, you and I have spent a lot of time together. I distinctly remember you sucking my cock a couple of nights ago.” She gasped and her whispered seductively, “Remember what I said? Do you remember what I promised?”

Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. “It was just a dream.” She shook her head, breathing heavy.

“Not just a dream,” he corrected and brushed his lips against hers. “It’s called dreamsharing. There’s a difference.”

“Dreamsharing?”

Lights appeared down the road and he pulled away. In seconds he had the passenger door open and his mate seated in the car. She brought her trembling hands together in her lap, shifting from side to side.

“I’ll explain everything. You have my word. I just need you to trust me, Chloe. Give me a chance to tell you why you feel the way you do. There’s a reason you found me.”

“I just came here for a tattoo. I need to call a cab and go home.”

Fucking hell. “If you want a tattoo I’ll give you one. And if you want to go home after we’ve talked, I’ll take you. Right now we have to go. Do you understand? We can’t stay here.”

He slammed the door closed and rushed around the car. Panic made him think she’d bolt. Thankfully she didn’t, remaining safely inside the car. The headlights down the road weren’t far away now. Declan’s client was probably going to pull into the lot within seconds.

“You promise to take me home? You’re not going to do anything I don’t want?”

“Baby, if that’s what it takes to get you to listen to me, I give you my fucking word.” He removed the keys from his pocket and shoved them in the ignition. Time was ticking down. Each second created another risk he wasn’t ready to take. “Now buckle your seat belt. We’re getting out of here.”

To his immense relief, she did as he asked. He managed to put the car in reverse and pull onto the road just as a car slowed down and stopped in front of his building. Despite his enhanced vision, he couldn’t see through the tinted windows to identify who it was.

Worry about that shit later.

He put the car in gear and hit the gas, shifting in his seat, trying to get comfortable as he rushed from the shop. His board-stiff cock strained against his pants, his heart hammering a dent in his chest. Another minute and he’d have had to explain the situation to Chloe with witnesses to cement the deal. Not something he was keen on. Thank God she’d listened and didn’t try to run. At least now he had a leg to stand on.

Talk about cutting shit close.

Chapter Two

I’ve officially lost my mind.

What in the world had possessed her to get into the car and drive to Jackson’s home? Why hadn’t she fought? Why had she sat quietly without questioning his motives? It hadn’t taken long—no more than ten minutes—to make the trip. But during that time she’d found it hard to concentrate. His enticing cologne seemed so much more powerful in the confines in the car, wrapping around her like a comforting cloud and making everything hazy.

Hazy. Now there was a word to describe how she felt.

From the moment he’d touched her at the tattoo parlor, nothing had made sense. It was as if something had come to life inside her, taking over rational thought. She’d wanted to argue or deny what she experienced but couldn’t formulate the words. All she could think about was how wonderful he smelled, how amazing his fingers felt against her skin.

How delicious he would taste.

The dampness in her panties increased as she stepped past the threshold into his home. It was impossible to think clearly when she visualized the dream he’d mentioned. They’d touched each other before, using their hands to give each other pleasure, but they’d never used their mouths. Until he’d challenged her, daring her to get on her knees and suck his cock. She’d balked at first, embarrassed at the thought. Then she remembered it was only a dream. She could become unleashed. Lust had taken over and she’d given him exactly what he asked for.

Heat rushed through her bloodstream like liquid fire at the remembrance.

She’d sucked and licked, finding that she wanted more of his taste in her mouth, anxious to feel him surrender to his desire. There wasn’t enough—not nearly enough. He’d groaned in pleasure but stayed still, allowing her to take her time and explore. Just before the dream had ended he’d promised to do the same to her. Just thinking about it had gotten her soaking wet.

He’d growled and started pumping into her mouth, telling her to get ready…

She’d woken writhing and sweaty, so close to climax she could almost taste it. He’d been venturing to the land below, his teeth raking against her skin, when her eyes opened and she greeted a new day. That was the last dream she’d had of him. She went to bed each night hoping for his return, only to wake horny and unsatisfied the next morning.

Now he was here—walking, breathing and very much real.

Jackson swept past her into his home. She admired his form as he strode by the living room and vanished around the corner. The place definitely belonged to a man. The flooring was dark wood with rugs throughout, the furniture made of black leather. A large plasma television was mounted on the far wall, enormous speakers bolted on each side of the room.

He reappeared with beer bottles in each hand. She took the one he extended to her, trying to get her hormones under control. He’d said he’d give her answers and explain what was taking place. For some strange reason, she did trust him. Who was she kidding? A part of her recognized him, even if it made no sense whatsoever. Everything that had transpired between them had been real.

They were dreams but weren’t.

How in the hell is that even possible?

He lifted the beer to his lips and she quickly did the same. The tang of the beverage hit her tongue, the flavor strong and somewhat bitter. She forced the drink down and lowered the bottle, staring at Jackson in disbelief. He didn’t stop drinking, his throat constricting with each swallow, until the bottle was empty. She gawked, unable to focus on anything but him. Another wave of heat rushed through her, making her lightheaded.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to give you what I promised, Chloe girl.” He lowered his hand and growled, gold eyes sweeping over her. “I’m trying real hard to be a gentleman but you’re testing my control.”

“I…” She tried to think of something to say, realizing she was alone with this gargantuan man inside his home. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not to mention he was a werewolf.

Not smart. Not smart at all.

“I think the best way to go about this is to tell you straight.” He met her gaze. “Give me your hand.”

She wasn’t sure which he wanted until he reached for her left wrist—the wrist with the birthmark. Before she could stop him he’d shoved her jacket back, revealing the crescent shape.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but I think you wanted a tattoo right here. Over this mark.”

Shit. How did he know that?

“Maybe,” she hedged, scrambling for the right thing to say. “Maybe not.”

His eyes slitted and he growled, “Don’t lie to me.”

“So what if I did?” Trying to feign indifference was impossible. The space felt too small with him in front of her. “It’s just a birthmark.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not just a birthmark. It’s the mark all wolves carry when they’re born. This means one of your parents is were,” he said and swept his thumb across the skin.

She clenched her teeth, trying not to groan. For the first time the mark didn’t burn. If anything his touch alleviated the sting, making the damn thing hum. A shiver ran through her, electric tingles starting where he touched and sweeping up her arm.

“You don’t have one.” Her eyes drifted over his body. During her dreams, she never saw anything aside from tattoos on his magnificent body.

“It’s here.” His fingers drifted to the hair behind his ear and he turned his head. Sure enough a small crescent shape was revealed, just below his hairline.

“This can’t be real.” Her heart raced, panic warring with desire. “There’s no way. I’d know if one of my parents could shift forms and howl at the moon.” She tried to yank her hand away.

“Apparently not.”

The amusement in his tone pissed her off. He might find the situation funny but she certainly didn’t. “Listen, Mr. Ego. I would know if—”

“I thought you were from one of the packs in the area when we started dreamsharing,” he continued as though he didn’t hear. “If you were human you wouldn’t have this. When I saw it, I assumed you knew what you are.” He caressed her birthmark, sending a flash of fire through the erogenous zones of her body. “There was no way to know you’re only half.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She pressed her thighs together, mortified when her sex started to throb. She should be terrified, not ready to fuck like a rabbit. Her nipples hardened into points, the lace of her bra becoming restricting and painful. “And I am human.”

“You’re half-human, and it’s not necessarily bad.” He lifted his head, his lips curving into a grin. “Just different. It changes the game a bit.”

“I hate to break it to you.” She considered shaking him. Here she was, off balance and agitated, and he was referring to the situation as a game? “But this isn’t Monopoly. Not even close. Do not pass go. No two hundred dollars for you.”

“Excuse me.” His wry grin should have made her furious. Not horny. “Bad choice of wording.”

“How about you tell me the truth?”

“You’re going through your first moon heat,” he whispered, moving closer, the warmth from his body radiating like a furnace. “That’s why you found me. You knew your time was near. It’s instinctual.”

Denying his explanation was her only defense, even though a part of her knew it was a barefaced lie. Something was occurring between them. No one had ever made her feel like this, turning everything she knew upside down and inside out.

“Maybe it’s instinctual for you but it isn’t for me,” she argued. “I didn’t come to find you. I came to get a tattoo. The dreams…our meeting…it’s serendipity.”

“Listen, sweetness.” He invaded her space, pressing his much larger body against hers. “You can keep lying to yourself but it won’t change what’s destined to happen. You came to me—you chose me.”

He released her hand and cupped her chin in his palm, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. His touch was gentle, his closeness comforting. It was hell not to squirm, to remain passive in his hold.

“Did you come to my shop for a particular reason? Or did you feel compelled to come there? Better yet, have you been feeling like yourself lately? Have you noticed changes you can’t explain?”

How did he expect her to answer those questions when he was so close she could almost taste him? His alluring scent called to her, tempting her to rip off his clothes to view the hard flesh beneath. Her eyes drifted closed as her heart thundered in her chest. She licked her lips, remembering how delicious he’d tasted, how wonderful it had felt when he’d circled his arms around her as their lips met in her dreams. A tidal wave seeped from her pussy, her clit so sensitive she wondered if she’d climax with a simple shift of her legs.

Pull yourself together. Answer him.

“I wanted to come to The Wolf’s Den,” she confessed, her voice shaky. “I don’t know why.”

When she tried to turn her head, he prevented her from doing so. His fingers were firm but gentle against her jaw. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” She forced her lids open, shocked to discover his eyes were no longer gold but almost yellow. “Tell me about your parents.”

Her parents? The shift in topic disoriented her for a moment. She quickly got her thoughts in order. “My mother died when I was a baby. I never knew my father. Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure this out.” He took a deep breath and asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” If he was going to ask questions, so was she. “How about you?”

His sexy, kissable lips formed into a sinful smile. “Old enough.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“The best you’re going to get right now,” he replied, his voice taking on a husky lilt. “Who raised you?”

God he was arrogant. Even worse? His attitude made her hotter.

“That hardly seems fair,” she snapped, increasingly annoyed.

“Answer me.” He wasn’t asking for an answer now, he was demanding one. His fingers tightened on her chin, his irises shifting color from yellow to amber.

“My grandparents. There. Happy?”

“Your mother’s parents?”

She nodded, finding it difficult to inhale. She wanted to remain angry but her entire body betrayed her. Ripples of desire scorched the inside of her skin. This was nothing like her dreams, where she’d had some measure of control. If he didn’t move away from her she’d tell him anything he wanted to know or do anything he told her to. Her pride didn’t mean squat, logical thought flying out the window.

“I should go.” Something inside her rebelled, hating the words, rejecting the possibility. “My family will be worried.”

“Your grandparents, I presume?” His voice felt as though it swept through her. No one had ever made her as edgy and aroused as this man. Not even close.

“Yes,” she whispered, clinging to his arms to remain on her feet.

Sexual need pounded at her, her blood drumming in her ears. In her fantasies she made love. She didn’t go buck wild, wanting to be fucked long and hard.

Until now.

“This isn’t like me.” She shook her head, trying to clear mental cobwebs woven with lust. “Something’s wrong. I don’t feel right.”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s the moon heat, and it’s only going to get worse. You’re in the early stages.”

He had to be joking. This was going to get worse? She was in the early stages?

“You should probably give me some space. I think I’m coming down with something.” That something being her ravenous libido, with his cock served on a platter as an entrée.

Damn. When did the room become so warm? Was it this difficult to breathe before?

Fear hit, rolling like thunder through her. What would happen if she let things progress between them? He obviously wanted her as much as she wanted him. What would the repercussions be if they spent a night together? Would her life ever be the same again?

“Shh, easy,” he murmured. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe with me. I’m going to take care of you.”

She shook her head at his statement. They didn’t know each other—not really. Yes they’d shared dreams—extremely explicit and naughty dreams—but if she wanted to understand what was happening she had to take care of herself. She couldn’t depend on him for anything more than answers.

Her mind combated the champagne fizzles raging through her body, attempting to give her some semblance of restraint. She tingled in places she didn’t know existed, her nipples and pussy so hypersensitive she couldn’t stand it.

“I don’t even know you.” Like an annoying parrot, she kept repeating herself.

Way to go. Charm him with your dizzying intellect.

She wanted to wince, knowing she probably appeared as silly as she felt.

“Yes you do. I’d say over the last few weeks we’ve gotten to know each other extremely well.”

Her nails dug into his chest as her fingers curled. Wasn’t that the rub of it? She did know him. Technically—in her dreams, at least—they’d already gone past second base with a speedy rush for third.

“Remember the first time we met?” She trembled when his lips feathered over her forehead, the heat of his mouth warming her skin. “You were so nervous and tried to run from me. I thought you knew who and what I was to you. If I’d have known why you were scared I would have handled things differently.”

Memories assailed her, of the first time she’d met him in the land of dreams. It had been inside a bar. She’d found it odd, since she’d never been to a bar and had only seen them on television. He’d been leaning against a wall, as though he’d been waiting for her. She hadn’t been able see his face. Not that it mattered. She remembered the way her heart had pounded, how panic had set in even though she’d known it was only a dream.

She’d tried to run only to have her dream shift to another time and place.

This time she’d found herself in a sunny park. Empty swings had swayed back and forth, a sandbox nearby occupied with rambunctious toddlers and their doting parents. Jackson had been there as well, crouched a few feet away, studying her. He’d seemed so out of place, like a lethal creature in a safe haven parents took their children to play. When he started to stand, she’d jolted awake, but from that moment forward her dreams had never been the same.

He’d chased her night after night, a sexual game of cat and mouse. When he’d finally caught her—on the dance floor of the bar she’d fled, ironically enough—she’d been a more than willing victim. She recalled dancing in his arms, the rhythm of the music guiding their bodies. There was no fear. It was as if she’d finally found someone who understood her. A man whose arms felt like home. Afterward she craved sleep just to be close to him, to feel his body pressed against hers.

“It was real, Chloe,” he said, the words rumbling from his chest. “All of it.”

All of it.

The first few dreams were somewhat tame—transpiring in places she refused to get totally down and dirty—but during the last one they’d been alone in a bedroom. For the first time they’d removed their clothing, stripping each other bare. Instead of feeling his muscles bulge beneath her fingers, she’d finally seen them. He had been—and still remained—the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His large body was perfectly proportioned, his skin tan and smooth. She’d gone down on him because she couldn’t resist anymore. The temptation he’d presented had been too powerful to shake. She’d never forget his taste. The way he stretched her lips as he glided in and out of her mouth.

Her pussy spasmed at the memory, creating more wetness between her legs.

Damn it.

Her panties were soaking wet, clinging to swollen vaginal lips.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? It felt so good when you sucked my cock. Your mouth was so hot, baby. I want to look you in the eyes next time. I want to see how turned-on you are when you’re sucking me off.”

Holy mother.

In her dreams Jackson had loved to talk dirty. It had taken a few dreams to become accustomed to his explicit sexual vocalizations but she’d managed. A good thing since he apparently enjoyed doing the same thing in reality.

“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, caving to her body’s demands since she already had one foot in the door. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Or about you and your promise to do the same to me.

After two nights of waiting for Jackson to appear in her dreams, her curiosity about what it would be like had gotten the better of her. She’d hesitantly touched herself in the shower, imagining it was Jackson’s tongue caressing her clit, his mouth suckling on her flesh. Unfortunately she’d stopped just shy of an orgasm, becoming uncomfortably aware of herself and what she was doing. She’d stopped, feeling embarrassed and uncertain. One foray into masturbation had taken her back several years, to another time and place.

At seventeen she’d had one sexual encounter—a rushed pairing with an equally awkward boy from her English class. They’d parted ways immediately after, avoiding each other if at all possible. She didn’t know if he was embarrassed by his performance or didn’t want a repeat of hers. Either way it didn’t matter. His touch had felt all wrong, even when she tried to relax and enjoy what they were doing. From that moment forward she wasn’t interested in sex or men.

Then Jackson had come along and changed everything.

Each wisp of his fingers against her sensitive skin made her melt inside, creating tendrils of heat that built in her stomach. She lifted her head, meeting his glowing eyes. A simple look from the man made her insides puddle. There was nothing insecure or awkward about Jackson. He knew exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it.

And she realized she wanted him to take it from her.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” His body brushed hers. She felt the hard length of his erection prod her belly. “I’m going to take you to my room and make you burn. I’m going to make you so hot you’ll think you’re dying from the pleasure of it. This isn’t a dream. You’re going to get all of me, Chloe. All of me.”

Oh boy.

She tried to argue when he cut her off, his fingers sliding from her chin and latching on to the hair at her nape. He pulled her head back, maintaining eye contact.

“We’ll sort the details out later. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself.”

Then he kissed her, lips soft but demanding, his tongue lashing out to tease the cavern of her mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible to swoon but swoon she did. Her knees buckled, the warmth from his body seeping into hers. His hand drifted down and he palmed her ass, squeezing just hard enough that she groaned. She’d forgotten what a master he was with his fingers, how expertly he put them to use.

“So sweet and hot,” he growled into her mouth, yanking her forward and rolling his hips, making the world crumble around her. “And all fucking mine.”

He’d tried to do the right thing. Chloe deserved answers, not the mindless fucking he had in mind. The beautiful female was confused. She was scared. But she was also turned-on. Hell, she’d been turned-on since the moment their skin had collided. Her scent called to him as no other’s had. Tomorrow he could tell her everything she wanted to know. For now he had to calm her fears and show her he would take care of her, regardless of the cost.

He basked in her taste—sweet as sugar and tempting as sin. Her soft curves molded to him, her rounded ass the perfect size for his hand. She whimpered as he squeezed the giving flesh, his fingers digging into her jeans. Tugging her forward, he thrust his cock against her stomach and rolled his hips. The beast in him wanted to yank down her pants, force her onto her hands and knees and fuck her madly from behind.

Not yet.

She yelped when he lifted her and carried her in the direction of the bedroom. He caught the sound in his mouth, growling in pleasure as her surprise turned to hunger. Her lips parted and their tongues danced—touching, teasing and drifting apart. He’d be lucky if he didn’t come with his first taste of her, undone by the sweetness of her pussy as he lapped at her slit. He could smell her—hot, honeyed and primed for the taking.

They entered his bedroom and he headed for the bed. He carefully lowered her to the mattress, bringing his body over hers, forcing her knees apart so he could slide his hips between her thighs. He could feel the heat of her cunt through his jeans. The scent of her arousal tickled his nose. The white glow from the moon slithered through the curtains and caressed her face, the shadows on the bed a combination of black and gray. Her irises changed color, shifting from grassy green to vibrant emerald in the light.

“I’m gonna eat you up,” he growled against her lips, nipping gently. “I want to hear every little noise you make.”

She helped him tug off her jacket, violent as she ripped the material from her torso. He felt her fingers shaking when their hands met, her lithe body squirming beneath him. She was eager and ready as he was. When they’d first started dreamsharing, she’d been nervous and inhibited during their sexual interludes. Now—real, willing and in his arms—the minx was wild and out of control.

Just the way I want her.

Somehow he managed to remove her sweater without tearing the downy cotton, pulling it over her head along with an equally soft camisole. He bit back a curse when he saw her bra, her hard pink nipples visible through lace. After he removed the skimpy garment, he took a moment to appreciate the view.

Her flawless skin reflected the rays of the moon—pale, silky and smooth. Her breasts were full and lush, nipples hard and waiting to be touched. Before the night was over he intended to leave love bites all over her creamy flesh, including one on the fleshy portion of her throat and shoulder for the world to see.

My woman. My mate.

A surge of possessiveness seared through him. The wolf wanted to come inside her and mark Chloe with its scent so that every werewolf she encountered would know she was taken. A good thing, because the man wanted the same thing. He couldn’t wait to feel the clasp of his mate’s pussy around his cock, to finally learn just how hot and tight she’d be.

He popped the button to her jeans and started yanking on the zipper when she stopped him, her voice husky. “Wait.”

Everything in him rebelled, the wolf fighting for dominance, wanting to fuck its female until they were gasping for breath, bodies covered in the smell of sex. Only the bitter smell of fear quieted the animal, allowing the man to take control. He had to be tender with her.

Forcing the primal emotions aside, he struggled to put Chloe’s needs first. He didn’t take his fingers away from the zipper but he stopped the downward motion of his hand.

“Easy.” He attempted to calm her, peering into her eyes.

Her irises were even lighter now, the portion of her that responded to his wolf riding the line. He understood her terror then, becoming aware of the source of her anxiety. Along with the fragrance of fear was the musky call of her arousal—her wolf’s arousal.

She didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—what she was experiencing.

Lowering his head and brushing his nose against hers, he softened his voice, gentling her with words. “You’re hurting, aren’t you, baby? You want me so bad you ache with it. Don’t be afraid. I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it. You’re safe with me. I give you my word.”

“This is wrong,” she moaned, arching her hips and pressing her mound against his fingers. “I should make you stop.”

Like hell. “How is this wrong?”

Against his better judgment, he lifted his hand and slid his fingers beneath the lacy trim of her panties. As he’d known, her pussy was drenched. He slid the pads of his fingers against the swollen crease, coating them with her cream, gliding up and down her slit.

“Do you want me to go down on you, Chloe girl? You’re so ready I can practically taste you.” When he slid his fingers free she cried out. “I’m going to do everything you’ve dreamed about and then some.”

Since she was nervous about removing her clothing, he decided to even the score. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled his T-shirt over his head. The brisk air hit his skin, cooling the sensitized flesh. He considered ordering Chloe to lick his chest, to tease him as she’d done in their dreams, but he didn’t. Right now he had to keep stoking the fire. She wanted him, she just didn’t know how much.

Not yet.

He brought his torso down so their stomachs collided—fair skin clashing with tan, softness cushioning muscle. Her hesitancy vanished, her small hands drifting up to clutch his arms. He couldn’t prevent the growl that crept up his throat or the way he thrust his hips against her. The moment he’d entered Chloe’s dreams she’d put her mark on him. He was useless to other females, meaning he’d had to take care of his own needs. It had only been a matter of time until they met but he’d never thought it would be like this. With her sweet and soft in his arms, trusting him even though she wasn’t aware of the eccentricities involved when mating with a shifter.

“I’m going to start here.” He pulled at her underwear and jeans, intentionally skimming the back of his hand against her burning pussy. “And work my way up.”

This time she didn’t protest, aiding him by lifting her pelvis. The delicate curve of her stomach flexed, displaying the tender, toned muscles of her abdomen. After he slid off her shoes and socks, he removed her jeans. She was as lean as he remembered, her shape that of a female werewolf, although less muscular than most—lithe and strong, trim and curved in all the right places.

His gaze rested on her sex, his wolf howling in pleasure at the sight of trimmed blonde curls. The lips of her cunt were swollen and pink. Her flesh glistened in the light coming through the window, her hard clit pushing free of its hood.

His fangs lengthened, his heart drumming in his chest. He was going to leave his imprint all over her, covering her with his scent, marking her soft skin with his teeth. She was seductive and inviting, waiting for him to make the next move. He paused over her mound, blowing softly against her weeping flesh.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned and clutched the comforter. “Please.”

“I won’t.” His growl filled the room, the wolf eager to claim its mate. He lowered his head, guided by his nose and the fragrance of her cunt. “I’m going to please you all night long. And this time, you won’t be dreaming.”

On some level Chloe knew what she was doing was inappropriate. She was in the bed of a stranger—someone she only knew from her dreams. She understood that, had even contemplated it when her head cleared and she tried to rationalize what she was experiencing. But she couldn’t stop.

God help her. She didn’t want him to stop.

“Jackson,” she whispered, making sure he was real and not a figment of her imagination. Her body was on fire, her nipples and pussy more sensitive than they’d ever been in her life. Even the chilled temperature of the room felt painful brushing against her naked skin.

“Hold on, baby.”

His breath caressed her skin, whispering over the lips of her sex. Before she could respond his hot, wet tongue glided along her seam. One long, deliberate lick parted the lips of her vagina. Fiery wisps followed his touch, leaving an impression behind. She arched her back, fisting the blanket beneath her hands, crying out at the amazing sensation.

He pulled away, licking his lips. “You’re so fucking sweet.”

She was ready to beg for more when he dipped his head a second time. His tongue worked its magic, licking up and down her slit, soothing the burn in her pussy, replacing it with dizzying tingles. He changed the motion, alternating with long strokes between her labia and shallow plunges at the mouth of her sex. Warmth spread from her belly, engulfing her in a sexual fog.

Yes. Oh yes.

This was what she’d dreamed about, what she’d waited so long for. Up and down he licked, growling as he did, his fingers digging into her ass. She didn’t think the feeling could get any better until he scooted up and the cavern of his mouth surrounded her clit. She writhed on the bed when he started to suck, caught in a maelstrom of desire and want. His tongue flicked the supersensitive nub, moving hard and fast.

Stars flashed before her eyes, a fireball erupting from the inside out. Loud shrills echoed in her ears, droning on and on. It wasn’t until the sound softened that she realized she was crying out, her own voice sounding far away. Something stirred inside her, cautiously emerging. It reached out to the man giving her pleasure, wanting to make him a part of her. She started to question what she felt when Jackson snarled, the sound sexy although it should have been frightening.

“Again.” Jackson lapped at her wet folds, whipping his tongue up and down. “Come for me again.”

She gasped when she felt his finger rubbing against the entrance of her pussy, gathering moisture before pressing inside. If she’d thought his tongue felt amazing, the pressure of his thick finger parting her was incredible. The spark of something coming to life grew. A new, uninhibited portion of her wanted more.

A scent filled her nose—wild and delicious.

She drew a deep breath and realized it was coming from Jackson. He’d already smelled wonderful but now…it was so, so good. Her mouth watered, taste buds coming to life, eager for a sample of his cock. She wanted to feel the weight of his erection in her mouth, was desperate to savor him in reality and not in a dream.

As though he was aware of her desires, he pulled away and looked at her. His irises were no longer human, glowing in the dark, muscles rock hard and tense. He could tear her apart if he changed, was capable of ripping her throat in two with his teeth. She should have been scared to death, not ready to flip him over so she could reciprocate the oral stimulation.

“Don’t even think about it, mate,” he murmured, studying her while his finger glided into her sex, the pads rubbing against the clasping walls as though searching for something. “You’ll take what I want to give you. I know what you need. Don’t test the wolf. Not yet.”

Test the wolf? It wasn’t in her nature to flirt with danger. Yes, she’d come to his tattoo shop. But she hadn’t known it would lead to this.

Had she?

Yes, a voice stirred to life inside of her, startling in its intensity. You did.

“Easy, Chloe girl.”

He stroked her thigh with his free hand and she arched her back, wanting to feel his hand traveling over her skin, fueling the fire blasting through her veins. The finger lodged inside her rubbed against a spot that caused her to whimper. Jackson growled louder, thrusting his finger into her moist heat, hitting that tender area over and over again. Then he brought his mouth to her sex, teasing her with licks and nips, the tip of his tongue traveling along her lips.

Vibrations started in her belly, raging through her torso and limbs, making it impossible to remain still. The hand at her thigh moved. Jackson splayed his fingers over her stomach, keeping her in place as he laved her pussy. The sharp edge of his teeth scraped the vulnerable tissue, creating an oddly pleasurable pain. When he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked her body became pure light, shattering into a million tiny pieces. She thrashed on the bed, releasing the covers and burying her fingers in his hair. The flicks of his tongue eased but he didn’t relent, extending her orgasm, taking her higher.

It shouldn’t have been possible but the mind-blowing feeling repeated itself. Another climax took the place of the first, the sensations stronger this time. She screwed her eyes shut, crying out, grasping his hair and holding on to him like an anchor. Wave upon wave of bliss caressed her, hot and electric, rushing through her like exploding sparks of fire.

The dizzying storm slowly faded, leaving her panting and spent. Jackson pressed one final kiss to her pussy. He left a trail of kisses along the delicate bones of her pelvis, skimming his lips over her stomach, his tongue darting out to tease her navel. She sighed, pulling him closer, basking in the feel of his warm skin and the careful way he pulled his finger from her still-clenching depths.

“Did that take the edge off?” He nuzzled her breast, the bristle on his chin skimming over her pointed nipple.

Did it ever. “Mmm hmm.”

His mouth hovered over her areola, his breath hot against the pebbled disk. “Then you’re right where I want you.”

He thrust his hips, burying his crotch into the vee of her thighs as he sucked her nipple. She nearly came apart when she felt the hard ridge of his cock through the denim. She’d touched the thick, elongated length in her dreams. She’d even put the broad, mushroomed head into her mouth and sucked it like a lollipop. But in person he felt bigger, hotter and more dangerous.

Satiation ebbed, taken over by another flare of heat. The ache inside her returned, an emptiness that craved more. She frowned, freezing beneath the large man above her, trying not to focus on the delicious motions of his tongue and the fiery wetness of his mouth. She’d just come three times, taken to a heavenly place that sent her soaring.

Wanting more—needing more—didn’t make sense.

Jackson released her breast, lifted his head and met her gaze. Her confusion vanished, a foreign instinct slamming into place. His nostrils flared, bright amber-hued eyes intense. His fingers caressed her side, winding along her breast. He cupped her face in his palm.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, unable to look away.

“Tell me. I need to hear it.”

She was playing with fire but she knew what she wanted and craved. If he left her now, she’d go mad. The intensity of her need clawed at her, a primal nature she didn’t know existed tearing its way to the surface.

“I want you.”

He lifted away so quickly she didn’t have the chance to cling to his muscular form. She came onto her knees, prepared to pounce on him, when he bent at the waist and removed his boots and peeled off his socks. His jeans clung to his body, his hard cock clearly visible. Her heart stuttered for a moment then started to race. The damp heat between her legs increased. Popping the button fly, he moved toward the bed. A thin trail of dark hair ran from his navel down.

“Get me ready, baby. I want to feel that sweet mouth of yours.”

Licking her lips, she inched closer, watching as he tugged at the jeans and his cock sprang free. She hesitated, stunned at how much larger he was in reality, long and swollen, veins bulging beneath the skin. The head was darker in color and broader than the base. The sexual portion of her arose again, suffocating her fear, urging her forward.

Her fingers barely met when she wrapped them around the silken flesh at the root, a steady pulse beating against her palm. She started slow, darting her tongue along the crown, collecting the shimmering bead that appeared at the thin slit in the head. His taste burst on her tongue—salty, masculine and all Jackson. She opened her lips and took him into her mouth, sucking at the tip, rubbing her tongue along the underside of his cock.

He hissed and wrapped his fingers in her hair. “That’s it. Fuck.” She nearly panicked when he hit the back of her throat and she started to gag. He held her in place, his voice a low growl. “Swallow.”

Tears burned her eyes but she managed to do as he said. He groaned and pulled away, returning for more of the same. “Relax your throat and breathe through your nose. Show me how much you want me. Take me, Chloe. Take me deep.”

She bobbed her head, taking him as far as she could. She forced herself to constrict her throat, swallowing although it took effort each time he thrust into her mouth. He settled into a rhythm, slow and steady, rocking his hips.

“Just like that. Just. Like. That.”

Bolstered by his reaction, she kept up the pace, worshipping his cock with her mouth and hands. She timed it so her fingers glided along his swollen shaft with each retreat. She squeezed her fingers, tasting a hint of his semen, the flavor salty and tart. She moaned when she imagined him coming like this, forcing her to swallow him down. Instead of being repulsed, the idea appealed to a side of her that had just breathed new life.

Taste him. Claim him. Make him yours.

Her birthmark flared at the thought, burning white-hot. She started to pull away, lowering her hand to rub at the stinging spot on her wrist. Jackson tugged at her hair and his erection slid from her lips. There was no preamble, no soft petting. He thrust her onto the bed, her head landing on the softness of the pillows. Then he was there, coming over her body, all muscle, tanned skin and unforgettable features.

His hand trembled as he fisted his cock and slid it along her wet cleft. “Do you accept me, Chloe?”

It wasn’t just sex he was asking for. This was something deeper and more profound. The part of her that craved Jackson in all ways roared the answer in her head, repeating it over and over. Pure sexual desire pulsed within her, making her nipples harden and her pussy weep. Confused and shaken, she acknowledged the chorus in her mind, knowing she didn’t have another choice.

“Yes.”

The broad head brushed past the folds of her sex and dipped inside. She arched her back, wanting more of him. The burn in her wrist continued, as though the skin had been recently branded with the mark, the small area of flesh tingling painfully.

“Look at me,” he ordered, the words a low growl.

Their gazes met. She didn’t turn away, looking him in the eye as he plunged deeper into her body. Her pussy stretched, unaccustomed to his size and length, making way for his entry. There was no pain, only an incredible fullness as he slid deeper. Dimly she realized he wasn’t using protection and that he needed to put on a condom. Before she could ask him to stop he slammed his hips forward, burying himself within her, the head of his cock bumping her cervix.

“I knew you’d be like this,” he rasped, staying still, his length pulsing inside her. “So hot and tight. Squeezing me like a fist. You’re going to burn me alive.”

Bringing her hands up, she buried his fingers in his biceps. Like this, she couldn’t tell where she started and he ended. They were simply one, connected in the most intimate way. Their skin collided, the smoothness of his chest teasing her nipples. She mewled and rubbed against him, aching in ways she couldn’t describe.

She couldn’t prevent a panicked gasp when he pulled away, the thickness against her vaginal walls retreating. She lowered her fingers, running them down his back to his buttocks. Before she could force him back he thrust into her, the weight of his testicles slapping her ass. White speckles dotted her vision, the pleasure so intense she couldn’t stand it. Nothing existed in that moment—no worries for what she was doing, no concern about the pain in her wrist or the fact she was having sex with a virtual stranger.

He’s not a stranger, the raging beast inside her corrected. He’s ours.

There was no reason to argue or try to convince herself otherwise. This moment did feel right, as though it was always meant to be. Jackson’s scent slammed into her nose, making her clit throb. She’d never get enough of the way he brought her to life, of how amazing he made her feel.

“Damn you feel good.” His voice was hoarse, the words thick with lust. He grasped her hips, holding her in place. “Hold on, baby. I’m about to make you scream.”

Then he was moving in and out, forceful and steady. Each spear into her vagina hit a sweet spot, making heat build in her belly. Her nails scraped along his ass, urging him on as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. Just when she thought she’d fall over the edge he brought his hand between their bodies and found her clit, clever fingers pinching and massaging the bundle of nerves.

He pulled out and returned—harder this time. She cried out, rotating her pelvis, reaching for the ecstasy he could give her. Two more thrusts and the expert glide of his fingers sent her soaring.

She fought for breath, consumed by the fire that spread through her body as he moved faster. Electric prickles ventured from her pussy to her stomach, working their way up her torso. Her nipples were more sensitive now, making the pressure of his chest against hers almost unbearable.

When the last spasms faded she sagged against the pillows. To her shock he pulled her up and rolled her over, situating her on her hands and knees.

“Not yet,” he whispered, lining up his cock and carefully edging into her.

He didn’t thrust into her pussy this time. He rammed his cock into her, nudging her cervix, forcing her toward the head of the bed. She grasped the rails on the headboard, using them for balance, biting her lip as the agonizing fire in her birthmark increased. Jackson moved over her, trapping her beneath him. She felt him move her hair aside, his lips whispering over her shoulder. Then she felt his tongue bathing the area, the flicks soft but insistent.

His teeth sank deeply into her skin. The sharp, piercing pain had her crying out.

“Mine,” Jackson growled, the word muffled by his lips against her flesh.

One last thrust and she felt his length jerking inside her, a hot splash filling her pussy. He didn’t release her, biting harder, hammering into her with enough force that her knees started to shake. In an instant the burn in her wrist vanished. There was no ache, no horrible prickling sensation. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, trying to remain upright. Suddenly he went still, chest heaving against her back, his sweat-slicked skin rubbing against her.

She hissed when he pulled his teeth from her shoulder, leaving behind a dull throb. He murmured something she couldn’t make out and laved the sore area with his tongue, taking his time, soothing the ravaged flesh. A part of her wanted to hide her face in the pillows when he pulled his cock from her swollen and protesting pussy. She whimpered, unprepared for how sore she felt. Her sex pulsed, aching from the rough use although she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He fell to his side and took her with him, spooning her much smaller frame with his. Their labored breathing filled the silence of the room, hard exhalations slowly evening out. Now that the sexual haze that had taken her over was gone she was embarrassed by her behavior. But beneath the embarrassment there was a level of contentment and peace. The way he held her made her feel safe, the smooth brush of his fingers over her hip reassuring.

“Rest,” Jackson ordered softly. “I’m not finished with you.”

Closing her eyes, she basked in his touch and the heat of his body. The night belonged to them. Tomorrow she could ask questions and accept the consequences of her actions. Since she was a child she’d always done as she was told, behaving like the good girl her grandparents expected her to be. For one evening she would embrace what she’d always wanted but had never experienced.

She’d explore everything Jackson wanted to show her.

And she’d enjoy every minute of it.

For the first time, she was going to know what it was like to really live.

Chapter Three

Jackson studied the sleeping female in his bed, stunned by the unfamiliar tightness in his chest. She was beautiful in sleep, the lashes fanning her cheeks long and lush. A ray of the rising sun broke through the curtains, heralding the dawn, making the strands of her blonde hair glow against the cream-colored pillow. She looked like an angel, peaceful and content in slumber.

He took a deep breath, scenting the air.

The night before he’d clearly identified Chloe’s wolf. The animal was strong in her, rising to the surface when he joined their bodies. Although he wanted to see just how powerful her wolf was by taking her again, he’d held his mate through the night as she’d slept, content to watch over her. There was a chance Chloe would be able to shift after all. He’d felt how strong her animal-half was, how the wolf wanted to take over and make her presence known. He’d have to wait until the moon was full to learn the truth but either way, it didn’t matter.

Even if his mate never shifted, she’d be a force to be reckoned with.

Despite the knowledge, he felt a flash of panic. Increased strength wouldn’t protect Chloe’s vulnerable skin from razor-sharp claws and fangs. He’d have to teach her how to defend herself. Even though he never intended to let her leave his sight, she needed to be shown how to eliminate potential threats.

She didn’t stir when he slid from the bed, her breathing even and deep. Despite the fact it made him an utter bastard, he felt a surge of satisfaction that he was the cause of her exhaustion. She carried his scent now, her shoulder bruised from the bite he’d placed there. The result of her acceptance in their mating would scar. He wanted every male she encountered to see his bite and know to stay the fuck away. No one else would ever touch her.

She was his female. There would never be another for her—ever.

A smile tugged at his mouth, a surge of pride slamming into him. Chloe might be a Halfling but she’d proven her worth. She’d accepted him without complaint, as willing and eager as any shifter female would be. Now it was time to organize, learn about her past and plan for what was to come.

He didn’t shower, wanting to carry her scent for as long as possible. He collected a pair of sweats from a drawer before leaving the bedroom. It was early, meaning he had just enough time to make important phone calls before he prepared breakfast for his female. It was the duty of a male to see to his woman after their mating. He’d feed her, pamper her and show her how important she was. He didn’t want anything interfering with the bonding that would soon occur. Now that the instincts of the wolf had taken root inside Chloe she’d need to be close to him. It was his responsibility to explain this new life to her. He alone would ease any fears she might have.

After he retrieved the phone from its cradle he quietly opened the back door and stepped onto the patio. Frost coated the grass, shimmering beads prismatic as a new day stirred to life. He dialed Declan’s number and bit back a chuckle when his Beta answered on the second ring.

“It’s about fucking time.”

“You didn’t wait up for me, did you?”

“Don’t even go there,” Declan grumbled. “You owe me.”

“How so?”

“Simone saw you leave. She started asking questions.”

His elated mood took a nosedive.

Simone.

The pushy female had been trying to talk Jackson into a mating to strengthen the pack for weeks. Her family was well-respected, their bloodlines going back hundreds of years. Although he’d told her he wasn’t interested, she hadn’t taken no for an answer.

“What did she want?”

“What do you think?” Declan released an annoyed snort. “That bitch wants you and she’s not going to let you brush her off.”

“How did you handle the situation?” If Simone suspected anything about Chloe, he’d be forced to rethink things. The female had a thirst for power that refused to be quenched.

“I managed to talk her into coloring some of her sleeve and took a break midway through to prevent an interrogation. She didn’t question me but I think she suspected something. You should probably take your female somewhere else for a few days.” Declan took a deep breath and said, “Unless you’re ready to introduce her to the pack.”

Raking his fingers through his hair, Jackson answered, “She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. The moon heat was riding her too hard. I didn’t have time to explain.”

“Then I’d suggest talking fast. If the pack finds out about her from anyone but you they’ll feel betrayed. You can’t fuck with their trust on this. If you act like you have something to hide they’ll think your mate isn’t strong enough to guide the pack.”

Tell me something I don’t know. “I’m aware of that.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Excellent question. He’d planned on preparing Chloe’s first meal as his mate, running a bath for her to soak in and lavishing gentle affection on her all morning. That idea was crumbling to ash, taken without his consent.

Fuck, it pissed him off. Goddamn Simone pissed him off.

“Chloe doesn’t know about her lineage,” he said slowly, thinking ahead. “I need to find out what I’m dealing with. I need answers.”

“I’m listening.”

Time to balls-up. “I’m sure you noticed who she looks like.”

Declan hesitated before he replied, “I noticed.”

“I need you to find out what Gavin was up to a couple of decades ago. Everyone knows he chased pussy after he and Desiree mated. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a human pregnant and decided to keep it secret.”

If Gavin had gotten a human pregnant, Desiree would have had her competition destroyed. She wouldn’t take the risk of another bitch carrying a pup of her Alpha’s. It was too dangerous. In fact, if the baby was a boy there would have been a good chance Gavin would renounce Desiree and claim the female who’d given him a son as his mate. Regardless of the problems it would have caused.

“Makes sense,” Declan mused. “If he cared for the woman he wouldn’t want to see her or his child harmed.”

“Either way, if he’s my mate’s father he has a lot to answer for.”

“This could change things.” There was tension in Declan’s voice, the words were strained. “Not necessarily for the better.”

Something else Jackson already knew. If Gavin was Chloe’s father, the elder Alpha had a right to meet his offspring. Jackson could protect her as a mate but he couldn’t prevent their introduction. Not to mention he’d have to take down any potential suitors Gavin felt were worthy for his daughter. Without an official announcement of his claim before the packs, Chloe didn’t completely belong to him. Gavin could try to use pack law to his advantage. Matings had been destroyed before to strengthen the bloodlines, even if it meant tearing a mated pair apart in the process.

Rage at the thought had him seeing red. “If anyone is stupid enough to challenge me, let them come,” Jackson snarled. “Chloe is an asset to any Alpha who takes her as a mate. She’s mine.”

“Even if she doesn’t shift?” Declan asked quietly.

Damn him.

Jackson understood why his Beta asked the question, even if the inquiry stoked his temper. By showing concern, Declan reminded Jackson he was as the Alpha of the pack. Big decisions impacted everyone who trusted him to keep them safe. He couldn’t make selfish choices. The lives of others hung in the balance. Doubt surfaced, creating a dead weight in his chest. He couldn’t tell Declan he thought Chloe would be a rarity—a half-human who would be able to accept the change. Not until he knew for certain what she was capable of.

“It doesn’t matter that she’ll never shift,” he answered cautiously. “If a pack knows about her parentage, they’ll want her. Her father’s bloodline is pure. Her children will be Alphas and Lupas.”

Our children, his wolf snarled.

He gripped the porch railing, feeling the wood bite into his palm. No one would take Chloe from him. They were bonded as mates. Any male foolish enough to challenge his claim would die. He’d find a way to sway the local pack Alphas if they tried to force the issue.

“I have to drop by the parlor this morning but I’ll see what I can do,” Declan said. “In the meantime you need to clear out. Don’t stick around. Does your female have any family you can talk to? They might be able to answer some of your questions.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, noting the thick bristles on his cheeks. His anger ebbed, replaced by the concern of a newly mated male. If he wanted to greet Chloe properly this morning he’d have to make time to shave. She needed softness against her tender skin, not prickly stubble.

“I’ll see what I can find out when I take her to collect her things.”

“The evening went well?” For the first time there was humor in Declan’s voice. “Did you manage to calm the hellcat down?”

“It’s rude to kiss and tell.”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“Mating changes things,” Jackson muttered, unexpectedly ashamed of his numerous sexual exploits. Before Chloe, he hadn’t cared how many women he had no-strings sex with. Now? It made him feel like an ass.

“So I’ve heard.” Declan paused. “It’ll take time to ask questions. Since it’s early I’ll swing by the diner for breakfast. Depending on what I learn, I’ll work my way through the bars.”

“Be careful.” The hair on Jackson’s nape rose, alarm making him wary. “If Gavin finds out you’re sniffing around he’ll want to know why.”

“I think I can handle it. Check in tonight. Say around seven?”

“Sounds good. I’ll keep my phone handy.”

“Do that.”

Declan hung up without saying goodbye. The Beta didn’t mince words but he was one hell of wolf to have at your back. Jackson shut off the phone and walked back inside. He returned the phone to the receiver and looked around, trying to decide if he wanted to cook breakfast for his mate or prepare her bath. He decided on the latter, making his way to the bathroom.

Once inside he walked from cabinet to cabinet, flipping open doors. He was frustrated by what he didn’t find on the shelves. He couldn’t give her the bubble bath he’d planned. He couldn’t even sprinkle the sweet things females enjoyed into the water to relax her. All he had on hand was Dial soap and a bottle of shampoo he’d snagged the last time he’d visited the store.

Fuck it.

He walked to the clawed tub, plopped the cover over the drain and started the water. After he tested the temperature, he flicked his fingers dry and went to retrieve a washcloth and towel. Chloe smelled like heaven. He wanted to enjoy her just the way she was, absorbing her scent, putting it to memory. Heavy fragrances would only get in the way.

After he’d collected the items from the closet in the hallway, he froze. Chloe’s whispered words were spoken too quickly to understand but it was his mate’s voice he heard.

He took his time, walking slowly toward the bedroom and stopping in the doorway. The bed was empty, the sheets tossed aside. Bowing at the waist, he glanced beneath the bed and grinned. Chloe was hidden on the opposite side, trying to work the zipper of her jeans.

“Yes!” she hissed. “I can’t talk right now. No, there’s no time to explain. Look, I’m in deep shit, okay?”

Deep shit? That’s how she looks at this? He cracked a smile. Interesting.

“Who’re you talking to?” he asked innocently and stepped into the room.

“Uh…” A beep indicated she’d shut off her phone. The blonde curls around her face appeared first, followed by her bright green eyes as she rose to her knees and peered over the bed. “Wrong number.”

“Funny,” he said, striding toward the bed. “I could have sworn you were talking to someone.”

She flushed a bright shade of red. Even if he couldn’t scent her nervousness, he could see it clearly on her face. He forced his laughter aside, wanting to put the delectable female at ease. With her anxious and uncertain, the best way to accomplish that was to take control of the situation.

“I’m running a bath for you.” He strode around the bed in her direction. “We don’t want the water to get cold.”

“That’s okay.” She avoided eye contact, her gaze darting around the room as she rose to her feet and edged away from him. “I need to go. Gram and Gramps must be worried sick.”

He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her arm. “Then I suggest you hurry. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“We?” She tripped over her feet but followed as he pulled her along. “What do you mean, we?”

“We,” he repeated as he led her out of the room and down the hall. “You and me.”

“Are you nuts?” She tried to pull free, struggling when he yanked her into the bathroom. “You have no idea who protective Gramps is. He’ll—” Words were silenced when he tossed the towels into the sink and started removing her clothes. He pulled her sweater over her head, sending her curls scattering.

“He’ll what?”

“S-shoot you,” she whispered, quaking when he ran a finger along her collarbone.

He popped the button her jeans and pulled the zipper down. “Does that worry you?”

His question snapped her out of her growing sexual stupor. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it does.”

“I’m not so easy to kill, Chloe girl.” He reached over to stop the flow of water but remained in front of her, ready to shred the denim hiding her from view. “Your grandfather and I will come to an understanding.”

“I think you’re missing a few marbles. Did you hit your head when you climbed out of bed?”

He chuckled. “Not that I recall.”

He tugged her pants off despite her protests, stripping her until she was covered only by her skimpy panties. His cock saluted the visual. There would never be a time he didn’t want and crave this woman. She did things to him he couldn’t control, bringing out instincts he’d never thought to experience. He resisted the urge to bend her over the sink, removed her panties and urged her toward the steaming bath. Her fear overrode the demands of his body, putting her first.

“In you go.”

In an instant Chloe seemed to become aware of her nudity. She quickly tried to cover herself and hurried to the water. He thought the temperature was too much for her at first, concerned when she hissed and gritted her teeth. Then she slid into the clear depths—vanishing as she ducked her head below the surface—and he released a sigh of relief.

He crouched beside the tub and waited for her to reappear. She came up for air with a greedy gasp, using her hands to clear the water from her eyes. The liquid caressed her breasts, lifting them high. After she finished swiping at her face and gazed at him, something inside him changed.

With her like this—wet, confused and vulnerable—it was hard to do the right thing.

Instead of protecting her, he had other things on his mind. Things she might not appreciate this early on. He had to battle his wolf for dominance, determined to behave as a mate should.

“I’m going to make breakfast,” he said hoarsely and handed her a washcloth, forcing his hand away from the temptation of her silken skin. “Come into the kitchen when you’re finished.”

He hurried from the room, trying to focus on feeding his mate instead of fucking her like the animal he was. She was young and inexperienced. He had to prove his worth and soothe her rattled nerves. This was the most important meal he’d ever prepare in his life. He had to focus.

Storming away from the bathroom, he forced himself not to look back.

One more glance at his female—one more caress of the combined scent of her pussy and his seed flowing to his nostrils—and he’d lose all control.

Chloe stared at Jackson’s back as he walked away. Her heart was racing, her pussy throbbing for attention. One simple look from the man she’d shared the night with and she’d turned into a puddle of goo. She couldn’t think clearly, her thoughts turning on themselves. He’d told her that her father was a werewolf and her birthmark was far more than she’d ever bargained for.

In the light of day what he said seemed plausible and scary as hell.

She ducked her head beneath the water again, letting bubbles of air seep from her lips. The pictures and scents that had invaded her senses when she opened her eyes—of her and Jackson, doing all kinds of naughty things to each other—slowly bled away. What they’d shared was more than she’d bargained for. She’d thought they’d share a night together and her need for him would go away. But she was wrong—so very wrong—and now she wanted him more than ever. In a way that terrified her.

Get clean and go home.

She splashed to the surface and scrubbed at her skin, dismayed as the alluring scent that was all Jackson faded. For a moment she stopped to study her wrist. Oddly, the mark didn’t hurt at all. She couldn’t detect an uncomfortable twinge. She couldn’t be a werewolf. It wasn’t possible. She’d feel it. On some level she’d have to know.

Wouldn’t she?

Getting back on task, she shifted back and let her hand drift to the tender tissue between her legs. She used gentle strokes of the cloth, swiping at the folds, remembering how they’d gotten so swollen and sore in the first place.

Panic made her heart drum in her ears, adrenaline and fear raging through her system. She’d thought about protection but by the time Jackson had started making love to her it was too late. At that moment she’d been lost, thinking only of him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Hadn’t her mother’s loss taught her anything? If she was lucky she’d be able to walk away with a broken heart, not a bun in the oven.

After a cursory glance at the shampoo bottle nestled at the foot of the tub she decided she didn’t have time to worry with her hair. Gram and Gramps had to be frantic. She always made it home on time, determined to prove she was worthy of their trust. They had probably called the police and reported her as missing.

You told Rachel to call them. Calm down.

She quickly toweled off and jerked on her clothes. Her best friend had never failed her. That was why Chloe had called Rachel as soon as she’d realized where she was and what she’d done. Rachel was disappointed she hadn’t been told all the details but she wouldn’t judge. It was the primary reason Chloe trusted her and was able to share things with the young woman she’d never told anyone else.

Like details about her dreams of a man who didn’t exist.

Correction, she reminded herself. A man who does exist. A man you apparently dreamshared with.

Gram and Gramps would kill her when they saw Jackson and realized what she’d been up to. They’d always been protective. If she brought a werewolf home there was no telling what they’d do.

The mouthwatering aroma of cinnamon and butter drifting to her nose caused her stomach to growl. She slapped her hands over her abdomen, hoping like hell that Jackson couldn’t hear the obnoxious sound. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day. Since Grams was an early riser, Chloe had always greeted each morning with a healthy appetite.

Knowing she had no other choice, she exited the bathroom, tiptoed down the hallway and stepped into the living area. Her stomach knotted as the smells intensified, so vibrant and rich. She could almost taste what she couldn’t see. Jackson appeared, clothed in sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination. He looked as good as the food smelled, mouthwatering in his own way.

He stopped in front of her, his chest blocking the kitchen from view. “Feel better?”

To lie or not to lie? Decisions, decisions.

“Yes,” she answered as honestly as possible.

If he knew she wasn’t being truthful, he didn’t let on. Instead he snaked his arms around her and urged her close. The warmth of his skin caressed her cheek, his scent coming at her hard and fast. She wanted to melt, her muscles relaxing at his nearness. To her surprise she realized she’d never felt so comfortable around another person, as though she’d finally found the one place she was intended to be.

She jolted when Jackson lowered an arm, rested it against her ass and lifted her into the air. Scrambling to maintain her balance, she clung to him, burying her nails in his arms. The deep rumble of approval coming from his chest hummed against her breasts.

“Relax,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to her forehead and stopping at a nearby barstool. He lowered her to the seat and waited for her to let go before he pulled away. “Let’s get some food in you.”

There was no sense in arguing. She was hungry and he’d gone through all the trouble to cook for her. She watched him in the kitchen, awed by his movements.

For a big man he moved silently, prowling through the space. He retrieved a stack of French toast from the counter and brought it to her. Then he turned and retrieved syrup. He piled her plate high, poured the syrup over the scrumptious pieces and retrieved a knife and fork. She reached for them but he stopped her, sawing into the stack. Before she could question him he brought a morsel to her lips.

Watching her mouth, he instructed, “Open up.”

She did, nearly coming apart as the tastes burst in her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the flavors. The cinnamon tasted better than it smelled, the toast crumbling in her mouth.

“It’s delicious,” she whispered, licking her lips.

“I’m glad you approve.” He brought another forkful to her mouth, studying her closely. She took the offering and he lifted his eyes, their gazes locking across the counter. “Everything is as it should be. You’ll see. You just have to trust me. I’ll make you happy, Chloe girl.”

The endearment shouldn’t have made her as happy as it did. She should have been fearful or anxious at the sentiment. Instead she felt at peace. She decided not to explore the feelings too deeply, taking the food he offered to her. Soon enough she’d face the demons that plagued her. She’d confront her grandparents and demand an explanation.

Right now she’d accept the pampering he offered.

It was always best to enjoy the small things in life.

Especially if there was a chance something might come along and pull the rug out from beneath you.

Chapter Four

Rachel Gentry slammed the driver’s side door closed. Swiping strands of hair away from her face, she marched toward The Wolf’s Den. Her best friend had called forty-five minutes before in a panic, terrified of something she’d done. Chloe had begged Rachel to tell her grandparents she was fine but before Rachel could ask questions the call had ended.

That shit didn’t fly.

Chloe was always reliable—it was the primary reason they’d always been close. Rachel was the one with the volatile lifestyle, taking things as they came at her. Now, with the strange way her friend was acting, she knew something was wrong. She was going to get some answers, even if Chloe begged her to leave well enough alone. And she was going to start with the tattoo parlor Chloe had become obsessed with in the last few weeks.

She yanked the parlor door open and stepped inside. So flipping what? A werewolf tattoo shop. What was so special about that? Chloe had always been fascinated by the supernatural. Why? She had no idea. Humans didn’t mingle with werewolves or vampires. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t normal. Rational people didn’t venture to Atrum Hill.

Leave it to Chloe to start a new trend.

Although she approached the counter with a confident stride, a pang of fear rattled inside her chest. This wasn’t home—this was wolf country. She was in the den of beasts. She shrugged the notion aside in an instant, relying on anger and worry. Chloe needed her. If not, she never would have contacted Rachel so early in the morning. She needed to find out where Chloe was and make sure her friend was safe.

“Damn it,” a deep, masculine voice yelled from the back. “We’re not open. Come back during business hours.”

Displaying more bravado than she felt, she screamed back, “The open sign is on and the door wasn’t locked. I need to speak to a member of management.”

Curses rang from the back of the building and she heard a chair scrape against the floor. She braced herself, pulse racing, her breath coming out in stilted gasps. No one could make her do anything she didn’t want to do. Mortal police were weaker than preternatural law enforcement but they didn’t back down. Not when it came to their people. She relied on that fact, even as her fight or flight instincts kicked in.

Be strong.

A figure appeared at the end of the hall and stomped in her direction. She didn’t look away, lifting her head, keeping her shoulders straight. She hadn’t traveled into his neck of the woods to be turned away. As a female mechanic, she dealt with her fair share of dickheads. Men always assumed she would be gullible or stupid, something she was quick to nip in the bud. This asshole—even if he wasn’t entirely human—couldn’t bully her unless she let him.

“What the hell do you want?” he snapped, approaching fast. “I told you that we’re not…”

He stopped halfway down the hall, nostrils flaring. His dark hair was clipped short, a few strands ruffled around his ears. His features were more arresting than she could ever have imagined—full lips surrounded by a slight covering of shadow, a nose in perfect proportion to his face and a squared jaw with a steady tic that made him seem dangerous.

His brown eyes turned gold, his irises striking in the dark.

Trying to shake off his presence, she responded, “Chloe Bryant sent me.”

That seemed to reach him. He shook his head and took another step. From her vantage point she could see his arms. The black T-shirt didn’t fully cover the intricate, ink sleeves that covered his skin. The tribal designs contained what appeared to be wolves within the layers.

“And you are?”

“Rachel,” she answered quickly, meeting his gaze.

“Rachel…?” he prodded, obviously wanting her last name, and stopped in front of her. This close—standing just inches away from him from the counter—she could smell him. Like a touch of the woods, forest and earth. Were werewolves supposed to smell this good?

Who cares? You’re not here to get warm and cozy with a man who changes into a dog and hikes his leg at trees to mark his territory. Get a grip!

“Just Rachel,” she retorted hotly, getting her hormones under control.

“What can I do for you, Just Rachel?” he asked, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. If he meant to break the ice, he’d fucked up big-time. He was teasing her, and she hated being teased.

“I’ve come to pick up Chloe.” When he didn’t react one way or another and just stood there watching her, she asked between gritted teeth, “Are you hard of hearing? Do I need to break out in sign?”

“Actually my hearing is better than most.” The man across from her lost his playfulness and leaned against the counter, the muscles in his chest flexing with the motion. “As you can see, you made a trip for nothing. Chloe isn’t here.”

“Don’t even. I’m not in the mood for games.” She smirked and moved closer. “You don’t want me to call the police, do you? I’m sure they’d love to hear that a human woman entered your parlor and vanished. You might even make the evening news.”

Instead of taking her threat at face value, he grinned. Her insides wilted and burned white-hot. The air seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. When she drew a deep breath the scent in the air increased, swarming her mind, making her sway on her feet.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he rasped, still looking her in the eye. “Not to me.”

The hell I wouldn’t.

“Oh yes I would.” She ground out the words, forcing her increased libido aside, remembering why she’d come here. Chloe needed her. An attractive man with what appeared to be a gorgeous body wasn’t going to catch her off guard. “In fact, I called them before I came here.”

His irises flashed, becoming gold. “You’re lying,” he stated with total conviction, watching her with eyes that saw more than she wanted them to.

Anger replaced desire. True, she hadn’t called the police, but there was no way he could possibly know that.

“Wanna bet?”

He paused as though he was trying to read her. Then his attention shifted to the door. She heard a car pull up to the parlor and his golden eyes narrowed. In a split second the annoying man moved, standing in front of her one moment and beside her the next. The teasing glint in his gaze was gone, replaced with an anger that sent her heart thundering in alarm.

“Son of a bitch.” He reached out, snagged her arm and tugged her around the counter. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” She tried to yank away and winced when his grip increased, his fingers biting into her jacket. “Hey! Let go, asshole!”

If he heard he didn’t listen, literally dragging her down the hallway. Terrified and unable to do anything else, she tried to drop to the ground. To her shock, he seemed to know what she was going to do before she did it. He caught her, slipping his arms beneath her legs and back. She squirmed as he carried her into a room and slammed the door closed with the heel of his boot. He thrust her into a tattoo chair, knocking the air from her lungs, and took a step back. He looked intimidating, folding his massive arms over his chest.

“All right, Just Rachel. Listen up. I’m only going to say this once. Keep your sweet little ass parked in that chair until I get back. If you piss me off you won’t like what happens.”

Her heart skipped a beat before it started to race. “Are you threatening me?” A part of her actually hoped he was threatening her, that he wasn’t all bluff.

What the hell?

“Nope, threats are a waste of time.” He glanced at the door, cursed and returned his attention to her. “Keep quiet. We’ll talk about Chloe after I take care of business.”

With that he spun on his heel to exit the room.

“Wait,” she called out, wondering if he’d ignore the request.

He took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“You didn’t tell me your name.” She wanted to wince as soon as she said it, wishing she could take the words back.

Now you’ve gone and done it, dummy.

It was a stupid, girly thing to say. And she knew it.

She should be asking about Chloe or scrambling out of the chair. Instead she felt an odd tug in her chest, some part of her wanting to know at least something about the man standing imposingly across from her.

The amused grin on his face made her tingly in all the wrong places. “I didn’t, did I?”

Even though she was hoping for more, he left her guessing.

The door closed behind him with a soft snick. She gasped for air, realizing it was difficult to breathe. This wasn’t the woman she’d trained herself to be—strong, unbreakable and unwilling to bend to another’s will. The pride she took in her self-assurance cracked, leaving her shaken.

No one had ever affected her in this way, and the knowledge terrified her. For the first time in her life Rachel found herself staring into empty space without anything to say.

Coming to The Wolf’s Den was a very bad idea.

Of all the dumb fucking luck.

Declan Schroder strode down the hall, trying to calm down and get his throbbing cock under control.

Talk about a complex female.

The woman who’d walked into his building was all attitude with a fuck-with-me-and-regret-it glare, lithe frame and intriguing face. The little minx had gotten his blood pumping, making his dick harden to the point of pain. As a male, he couldn’t resist the challenge she’d issued. There was no give in her, zero softness. Even if she’d been aroused by his flirting, she’d blown him off good and proper. She’d be a hellion in the sack, giving as good as she got.

Stop thinking with the wrong head. Just Rachel has to wait.

Another visitor had thrown a wrench into what could have been a very good time. Fuck if it didn’t piss him off. Just once he’d like to relax and unwind without having to do the right thing.

Goddamn Simone.

It was bad enough dealing with the bothersome bitch the evening before. Talking to the obtuse female before he’d even settled into his routine burned like a rash beneath his skin. Not to mention she’d arrived at a shitty time. She needed to take a hint and find some other dumb schmuck to fuck around with.

“Declan,” Simone purred as she turned from the framed tattoo flash on the wall.

She’d dressed to impress in a skimpy top and skirt, her long black hair hanging in bouncy curls down her back. Fortunately werewolves had higher body temperatures and could handle the cold. Otherwise she’d have to do the respectable thing and wear modest attire for a change.

She shifted her feet, her high heels clicking on the floor, and her full, cherry-red lips dipped into a frown. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

I’ll take understatement of the fucking millennium for five hundred, Alex.

“I’m never happy to see people who come in without making an appointment.”

“Then I’ll make this quick.”

As she approached he had to force himself not to laugh. Simone knew he wasn’t interested but she didn’t stop playing her stupid games, shifting her hips from side to side, making her legs flex with each step. Sure, the female had a great body—one that was blessed by werewolf genetics—but the central command center between her ears was no longer in service.

“I went to see Jackson this morning but he wasn’t home. Do you know where I can find him?”

Here we go. “I’m his second-in-command, not his secretary.”

“Oh come on. Everyone knows Jackson tells you everything. That’s why you’re his Beta.” She stopped at the counter and leaned over it, revealing huge breasts that strained to escape the lacy material confining them. “I have something I want to give him. You’re ruining my surprise.”

“It wouldn’t be an STD, would it? I don’t think he’d be too thankful for a gift that keeps on giving.” As soon as the words came out he wanted to kick himself in the ass. He just couldn’t help himself sometimes.

Thankfully the insult floated right over her head. “That’s you, always making a joke of things.”

I wonder what she’d say if I told her it wasn’t a joke?

He quickly moved away from the temptation of actually asking the question, shrugging. “Life would be boring without a little spice.”

“I agree.” Simone’s dark blue eyes lifted a shade and her smile went from playful to seductive. “That’s why I need to talk to Jackson. Once he understands what I can bring to the table he’ll know why we’re meant to bring the packs together. It doesn’t have to be all work. I know how to play.”

“I just bet you do.” He lowered his arms and slid his hands into his pockets before he did something stupid, like snatch Simone up and march her shameless ass outside. “Like I said, I’m not his secretary. If he’s not home he probably had things he needed to do. Call his cell and leave a message. I’m sure he’ll get back to you when he’s got a minute to spare.”

Or when hell freezes over.

“Well…” She frowned and glanced at the arm he’d inked, studying her slightly reddened skin. “What if I waited here? He’s bound to show up sooner or later. You could work on my design. It definitely could use more color.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m booked.”

He peered down the hall, thinking about the fiery temptress with wild strawberry-red hair and eyes the color of the morning sky. He wondered if she’d stayed where he’d put her. A part of him hoped she hadn’t so he could make good on his threat.

“In fact,” he continued, “you interrupted me while I was speaking to a client. I need to get to work.”

“Tell him I’m looking for him.” Her voice took on a harsh edge, becoming serious. “You boys can only play games for so long. I think you should know my father consented to the match. Unless Jackson wants to piss him off, he’ll make sure he finds time to see me. Make sure your Alpha knows that.”

Shit.

He kept his mouth shut, knowing his smartass remarks would no longer be welcome. He watched as she walked across the room and left the building. It wasn’t until the door closed that he released the breath he’d been holding.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The pack already had enough going on without dealing with an arranged mating. Jackson would hit the roof when he found out what Simone had been up to. Her father—Ward Wilson—wasn’t the most easygoing werewolf in the area, and everyone knew he worshipped his only child.

Shaking his head, he headed back down the hall. At least there was one thing to look forward to. He was about to discover if his unexpected guest did as she was told. He growled when he opened the door. Not only was she not where he’d left her but the little hellion had given him the slip.

He didn’t bother looking out the opened window, rushing back down the hall instead. He heard a car start followed by the sound of grinding gravel. He ran across the sitting area and opened the door, knowing he was too late.

Damn it.

She’d already pulled onto the road. With a grin, she punched the gas and flipped him off. He wasn’t good at reading lips but her mouthed “Fuck you” came out loud and clear. Surprisingly the offensive gestures didn’t make him angry. Instead his cock rose, stiff against his zipper. His wolf stirred inside him—not for the first time since he’d met the ballsy female—brushing against the inside of his skin. The beast wanted to nip at her flesh and mark her as its own. He wondered what it meant, confused by something he couldn’t explain.

The woman was attractive and he’d love to spend time between the sheets with her, but she was human. There hadn’t been dreamsharing. Since she didn’t have a hint of wolf in her, there probably wouldn’t be. The likelihood of finding his mate—a mate connected to Chloe of all people—was slim to none.

Maybe it was something else, like the recent drought of sex brought about by work, pack and other responsibilities. He hadn’t gotten laid in months. That certainly didn’t help matters.

Still…

He stomped into the parlor and took a deep breath.

Honeysuckle and linen greeted him—Just Rachel’s alluring scent calling to his beast. His wolf rumbled a throaty growl, wanting to track the female down, bend her over his lap and bust her softly rounded ass. He’d keep her hanging on the edge of climax between swats, teasing her clit, making her regret her reckless behavior. Only when she begged for relief would he give her what she wanted, sliding his cock into the haven of her cunt, taking her so hard and fast her eyes would cross.

His dick pulsed, balls going taut. He could only imagine how sweet she’d sound when she came, how husky her voice would become when she asked for more.

Mate or not, he’d make it happen. It had been years since he’d had this kind of interest in a female. Just Rachel had screwed herself over coming for Chloe. When the dust settled he’d find out where the sultry woman lived and pay her a visit—one she’d never forget.

Pissed off, sexually frustrated and at the end of his rope, he locked the door, flipped the sign to closed and strode toward the back of the building. It was time to start thinking with the proper head. Good thing his Alpha had listened to his advice and left home. That gave him a window of opportunity to make some calls. His visit to the diner had been a bust. If he wanted to get answers, he had to start digging for information.

He took a seat at the desk, flipped through the Rolodex and picked a place to start. As the phone rang in his ear, he settled back in the chair and raked his fingers through his hair.

Sometimes being the Beta of a prominent pack blew balls.

Chapter Five

“Maybe you should stay here.” Chloe didn’t look at Jackson as she spoke, staring up the drive. She’d had Jackson stop a safe distance from home, wanting to make sure she was calm enough to face the firing squad she knew was waiting for her. “The house isn’t far. I can walk the rest of the way.”

“No,” he said, sounding calm and confident.

She pulled her focus away from the graveled road, meeting his level stare. It shouldn’t be possible for a man to look so good, his mere presence making her body throb in all kinds of wicked places.

“They’ll be upset. You shouldn’t expect a warm welcome.”

His fingers brushed her chin and angled her head. He leaned close and nuzzled her nose, his breath warm against her face. “It doesn’t matter. In case you haven’t realized it yet, I’m not here for them. I’m here for you.”

She swayed, knocked off balance once again by how sincere he sounded, by how he looked at her as though nothing else existed in the world. Since breakfast he’d been nothing but a gentleman, opening her doors, touching her in innocent ways that made her restless. The only time he’d been firm was when she’d asked to call a cab. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere and she’d better get used to it.

Why in the world did that make her feel so giddy?

Spending time alone with man she hardly knew—despite feeling close to him in a way she was trying to wrap her head around—went beyond impulsive. When she thought about it, it seemed absolutely crazy.

How would he react if she decided she couldn’t pack her things and leave with him for a weekend alone together?

“I don’t want to rush you but waiting isn’t going to change anything,” he murmured, his deep baritone sending a tendril of heat from her belly to her sex, his eyes shifting from brown to amber. “I’ve had to deal with a lot as an Alpha. Trust me when I say things often seem like they’ll be worse than they actually are.”

“An Alpha?” she whispered, alarmed for entirely different reasons now.

They hadn’t had a chance to discuss aspects of their personal lives, but she never imagined he had his own pack. She swallowed hard, seeing him on an entirely different level. She’d known he was dangerous, she just hadn’t appreciated how much power he truly had. She’d done enough research on werewolves to know Alphas weren’t to be trifled with. They were known to be aggressive, dominant and in total control.

“That’s right,” he replied softly, as though he could sense her apprehension. “Once we finish here I want to take you somewhere private where we can learn everything about each other.” He lowered his head and feathered his lips over hers, moving from right to left, making her breath catch. “I want to know you inside and out, Chloe girl.”

“Then I’ll start at the beginning,” she found herself saying, unsure of where she was going with the conversation. “My mother had me when she was my age. I never knew my father. For my grandparents, I’m all that’s left of her. They taught me everything I know. They’re the only family I have.”

He pulled away and peered down at her. “You make it sound like I want to take you away from them.”

Her cheeks heated. Damn. She did make it sound like that, didn’t she?

“Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t. You promised me the weekend. I’m only taking what you’re willing to give me.” He paused and his lips lifted at the corners. “For now, anyway.”

Butterflies erupted in the pit of her belly, something that seemed to happen a lot around him. “You’ll have to make them believe that before they’ll let me leave. If you don’t, Gramps will shoot you.”

She grimaced when she heard her grandfather’s voice in her head, warning her potential suitors would be staring down the barrel of the gun he kept behind the front door. She’d thought he was joking until she’d entered high school and a study partner who happened to be of the male gender had visited her house. Poor Casey Roberts had pissed his pants. Her grandfather had puffed his chest out with pride as the young man had rushed to his car and fled. And she’d been left standing on the porch embarrassed and horrified.

Suffice it to say she’d had to study Biology on her own after that.

“Duly noted.” Jackson moved back to his seat and put the car in gear. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

The heavy weight in her gut built, making her queasy as he took the vehicle up the drive. Prior to the departure from Jackson’s home she’d convinced herself she was a grown woman making her own decisions. She’d felt good about it then—confident. She wasn’t a child anymore. Her grandparents, as much as she loved them, had interfered in her life for too long. It was time to take the reins and start living her life as she chose.

Sadly a thirty minute drive had managed to chip away at her newfound sense of independence.

As she’d feared, the door opened when they pulled next to the house. Out came Gramps, dressed in his usual jeans and work shirt, toting the very shotgun she’d warned Jackson about. Despite the sixty-five years behind him, her grandfather had aged well. His broad shoulders were as intimidating as she’d always remembered, the stern look on his face daring anyone to fuck with him.

The door opened again and her grandmother appeared. While Fletcher Bryant put the fear of God into someone, his wife Abigail had the exact opposite impact. Five years younger than her husband, she too had aged gracefully. Her grandmother always had a welcoming smile on her face, her temperament much more easygoing.

Despite the firearm, Jackson didn’t appear nervous. He put the vehicle in park, killed the engine and reached for the handle to open the door. Instinct had her reaching out to stop him, fear and concern crashing into her. She jumped when she felt that strange part of her—a part of her from the night before that she’d nearly forgotten about—rear its head. It wanted to protect the man seated beside her, to warn those who would dare threaten him of the wrath that would fall on their heads.

Jackson’s eyes changed colors, becoming intense and luminous. He wrapped his fingers in the hair at her nape and gave the strands a harsh, almost painful tug. A humming energy extended from him to her, wrapping around her like a cocoon. The prickles of what seemed like electric current were sharp, piercing her flesh.

“No you don’t,” he whispered, meeting her gaze. “Settle down. Now.”

Abruptly the rage inside her vanished. She frowned, perplexed.

What in the hell just happened?

“What was that?”

His fingers slid from her hair, the prickly sensation vanished and he shook his head. “Something else we’ll have to discuss when we’re alone.” He opened his door and slid from the seat. “Let’s go. Your family’s waiting.”

Taking a deep breath, she opened her door before Jackson made it around the car. After she’d climbed out and closed it behind her, she turned to face her grandfather. As she’d anticipated, he was pissed. Anger radiated from the aging man, his eyes narrowed, disproval and disappointment evident in his face. Her shoulders slumped, guilt hitting like a fist to the stomach. She hated it when Gramps was mad at her. She did everything in her power to avoid upsetting him.

Jackson moved beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Get away from him, Chloe Bean,” Gramps ordered, using the nickname he’d given her as a child as he lifted the gun. “Walk yourself up here and go inside.”

“Fletcher,” Grams whispered, standing behind her husband. “Calm down.”

“Don’t, Abigail.” Gramps ignored the softly spoken plea, glancing over until he met Chloe’s gaze. “His kind isn’t welcome here.”

Chloe felt the muscles in Jackson’s arm tense. She wanted to chance a peek to see what he might be thinking but thought better of it. Before she could figure out what to say Jackson gave her a gentle nudge toward the house.

“Go inside,” he said gruffly.

“What?” She gasped, tearing her gaze away from her grandfather and peering up at the man who had obviously lost his mind.

“You heard me.” He took a step forward, the hand at her lower back ensuring she did the same. “Go inside.”

Jackson gave her another nudge, making her take another couple of steps away from him. Grams quickly descended the stairs, taking it as her cue to get involved. When Chloe was within reach the older woman took her by the hand.

“Come inside, sweetheart. We’ll leave the men to sort out their issues.”

“But…” She whipped her head around, looking at Jackson. He’d folded his arms over his chest, his legs shoulder’s width apart. He didn’t look at her, his gaze locked with her grandfather’s.

“Go pack your things. Your grandfather and I need to talk.” For a second his eyes flicked to her. He gave her a comforting smile and winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh yes, you are,” Gramps snapped, his voice laced with hate. He pumped the shotgun, kicking things up a notch. “If you don’t want a bullet in your hide you’ll get the hell off my property.”

“Oh dear,” Grams murmured.

A deep sound penetrated the air, carrying on the wind. Immediately Grams was gone, leaving Chloe standing alone as she balled her hands into fists.

It was then that she realized the noise—a horrible, distorted growl—was coming from her.

Her vision changed, covering the world in a haze of red. She lifted her head, staring across the distance at the man who’d raised her. He’d kill Jackson if given the chance. He’d pull the trigger and put a bullet in the body of the man who belonged to her. He’d try to take him away, force her back inside a cage and make her exist without the one person she needed most.

Never.

Fury boiled over. The tips of her fingers burned, her gums starting to itch. Blood pounded in her ears, a violence she never knew stirring inside of her, clawing its way free.

“Put the gun down,” she snarled in a voice that wasn’t entirely hers.

She shook at the possibility of an impending fight, her vocal cords vibrating as she growled. When she saw her grandfather pale, his hands trembling as he gawked at her, she felt a peppery hotness slam into her nose.

Fear. She could smell it, identify it, the scent so strong she could almost taste it.

Delicious.

A firm hand wrapped around the back of her neck, followed by Jackson’s authoritative reprimand, “You listen to me. Stop. Right now.”

This time the force inside of her fought the compulsion. She started to snarl, prepared to yank away from his hold. Something she didn’t recognize slammed into her, burning as liquid fire seemed to travel from Jackson’s hand into her body. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her neck and his voice changed, a low growl that commanded obedience.

“I said stop.”

Holy shit.

Jackson let his beast reach out, calling on his power as an Alpha, forcing his mate to back down. He knew without a shadow of a doubt Chloe would be able to shift. Her wolf was too powerful to be contained. Even now it fought him, wanting to remain in control, to take over the human portion of his female.

Damn it to hell.

He should have waited to bring her home until he knew exactly what he was dealing with. He hadn’t expected her to react this way. Her wolf was determined to protect him from her own family if necessary. In wolves the behavior was expected. No one—friend, family or otherwise—came between mates. Attempting to do so resulted in dire consequences.

“Stop,” he repeated, trying to use as little influence as necessary. If he wasn’t careful he could make the situation worse. He gave Chloe a firm shake, his wolf snarling at its female, demanding her submission.

He knew the precise moment her wolf subsided, the prickles of energy fading as Chloe’s human half took over. He caught her before she fell, lifting her in his arms. Until the full moon, when she officially claimed her beast, she didn’t have the strength necessary to call on the feral portion of her.

He looked up, eyes narrowed. Her grandparents stood together on the porch, looks of horror on their faces. “You knew this was coming,” he said, livid that the ignorant humans had kept his female from those she needed most. “You should have warned her—you should have prepared her.”

“You should come inside,” Abigail informed him, bringing a hand to her throat, fingers playing at the collar of her shirt. “I assume there are things you’d like to discuss.”

Hell yes there were things he’d like to discuss.

Lots of fucking things.

Jackson hiked his chin, eyes on the gun in the man’s hands. “I suggest you put that away.”

Fletcher’s eyes drifted to his hands. He gave a pained nod, lowered the weapon and turned to walk into the house with his wife. Jackson almost felt sorry for him, noting how defeated the man looked. Something bad had happened to this family. Something in the past continued to haunt their lives.

A growl crept up his throat. He had a good idea who was responsible.

Gavin fucking Worthington.

He nodded at Abigail as he strode past her into the home. The house was old but tidy, everything in its proper place. He spotted a couch and walked to the furniture. Chloe didn’t protest when he laid her down, sighing as he rested her head on one of the hand-stitched pillows at the end. She was tired but she’d recover. If he wanted to speak to Fletcher he had to do it while she was out. The clock was ticking.

He rose and looked at Chloe’s grandmother. “She’s fine. Don’t worry.” Turning his attention to the man who was propping his gun behind the door, he said, “If you want to talk, now’s the time.”

Fletcher sighed, rubbing a wrinkled hand over his face. “This way.”

With a final glance at Chloe, Jackson followed the man as he left the room. Pictures adorned the walls, most of them of Chloe from infancy to adulthood. A couple of the pictures were of another young woman—with dark hair, a happy smile and bright blue eyes. She was a mixture of Fletcher and Abigail, taking on her father’s darker coloring and her mother’s eye color.

Chloe’s mother.

Fletcher opened a door to the right, stepped inside and moved to the wall to allow Jackson to enter. The office was as clean as the rest of the house, the large desk across from him free of dust. Fletcher closed the door and waved at the chairs in front of the desk as he walked around it.

“Take a seat.”

Although Jackson preferred to stand, he sank into the chair. “What do you know about Chloe’s father?”

“Aside from the fact he’s like you? Not much,” Fletcher remarked with a bitter laugh. “I only met the bastard once, after he showed up here to break things off with my daughter.” He lifted his head, eyes full of pain. “He killed her, you know. She didn’t want to live without him. She wasted way to nothing after Chloe was born.”

A warning chimed in Jackson’s head. “Wasted away?”

“It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. She just…” Fletcher lowered his gaze, shaking his head. “After she had Chloe she stopped caring. The doctors did all they could but you can’t make person want to live.” In an instant the man became hostile, snapping his head up. “I won’t let you do the same thing to my granddaughter. I won’t watch you destroy her like her father destroyed my Sylvie.”

Jackson knew the sadistic smile he gave the old man was menacing but he couldn’t contain his contempt. In human form, it was difficult to bare his fangs. Instead he displayed his teeth in a manner that revealed his anger. If given the chance, he’d tear the man who’d deserted his mate apart, piece by bloody piece.

No one would hurt Chloe. He wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m nothing like Chloe’s father.” He decided to level with Fletcher. The man had balls of steel. “You knew what her father was, didn’t you? You knew he wasn’t human.”

Fletcher nodded. “I knew.”

“And you didn’t think you should tell Chloe? Don’t you think she had the right to know who she is and where she comes from?”

Jackson had to fight for control, furious at what might have happened if his mate hadn’t started the process of dreamsharing. Without her other half to guide her through the transition she could have gone mad. One of the Alphas in the area would have had to put her down. With the recent media attention and fear of their kind, no pack would be willing to take on the responsibility of a crazed Halfling.

“Don’t act so high and mighty.” Fletcher didn’t back down. “I took necessary precautions.” When Jackson arched a brow Fletcher said, “It’s amazing how much information folks are willing to share if you throw a little money around. I knew what we were dealing with. There was a good chance she wouldn’t inherit the trait.”

“But she did inherit the trait,” Jackson growled. “It’s a damn good thing she found me. Otherwise she’d put everyone around her in danger. She’s already feeling the changes.”

“Let’s cut to the chase.” Fletcher reclined in his chair and Jackson could feel tension electrifying the air. “You brought Chloe home and you didn’t cut and run. That tells me there’s some honor in you. I want to know what your intentions are. Are you going to do the right thing? Or do you plan to amuse yourself by using her until someone else comes along and tickles your fancy?”

He moved before he was aware, hands slamming on the desk as he leaned toward Fletcher. “Careful, old man.”

“You don’t scare me.” Fletcher didn’t break eye contact and no fear accompanied the statement. “That young woman out there means more to me than anything. If you honestly believe I’m going to back down from the likes of you, you have another think coming. Answer my question. Why are you here? What do you want with my granddaughter?”

“Chloe is my mate,” Jackson stated, putting the fact out in the open. “I intend to claim her as such before my pack.”

“So you’re going to marry her?” Fletcher asked quietly. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. What’s mine, I keep,” he answered and stood. “And make no mistake, she’s mine.”

“You say that likes she’s—” Fletcher caught himself, realizing his mistake.

“What? An animal?” He couldn’t help but snort. Leave it to a human to put things into simple categories—man or beast.

“She’s not a belonging. You don’t own her.”

“No more than she owns me.” When Fletcher frowned, Jackson smiled. “It’s safe to say your grandchild has me wrapped around her little finger. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“You’re too old for her, you know,” Fletcher grumbled, scrubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “Hell, you’re probably older than me.”

He decided not to clarify or share his age. Yes, he was a helluva lot older than the man but providing that information wouldn’t do either of them any favors. Right now they were on common ground.

“Relationships aren’t always perfect.”

“She’s going to live forever, isn’t she?” The strength in the aging human faded, leaving him a worn out old human who had more years behind him than ahead. “She’s like you now.”

“Not yet, but she will be.”

Fletcher mulled over his words. “And you’re going to care for her? You’re going to do everything in your power to make her happy?”

“You have my word.”

Jackson heard Chloe in the other room talking softly to her grandmother. The floor creaked, indicating she was rising from the couch. He knew he had to hurry. There was one positive thing coming from all of this, one thing Gavin Worthington couldn’t have anticipated.

“Did the male who got your daughter pregnant know she was expecting? Did he leave her in your care knowing she was carrying his child?”

“Of course he did,” Fletcher huffed, cheeks flushing red in anger, back to his former fighting self. “I don’t think he would have come here if Sylvie hadn’t pushed the issue. Apparently he didn’t want her coming to see him anymore. He came here to tell her to stop.”

Just like that, everything changed.

Gavin had given his child over to another male to raise and protect. If Fletcher accepted Jackson’s union with Chloe, no one could stand in the way of their mating.

“One more question,” Jackson said, grinning as he heard Chloe’s approaching footsteps. “If you came face-to-face with him again, what would you do?”

“The same thing I did the first time.” Fletcher graced Jackson with a grin of his own, one that promised retribution. “Shoot his worthless ass.”

Chapter Six

Everything was so freaking surreal.

Chloe released a soft sigh, shoving the last of her clothing into her bag.

First she’d woken from a weird stupor on the couch. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there, although she remembered bits and pieces of being carried inside. When she’d gone in search of Jackson she’d gotten another surprise.

He and Gramps were actually being civil to each other.

She’d stepped inside the office braced for war and found two men talking amicably, without a gun in sight.

It should have been an omen of positive things to come, a ray of sunshine breaking through treacherous clouds. She could finally ask the questions she’d always wanted answers to and learn things about herself she’d always wanted to know. She’d gotten a few snippets of knowledge, learning her father was in fact a werewolf and that he’d abandoned her mother early in her pregnancy. It had seemed like things were taking an upswing when she settled into the chair in grandfather’s office, the men in her life getting along famously, providing her their undivided attention.

Then, out of the blue, Rachel had shown up.

When she’d stormed inside the office and saw Chloe sitting beside an enormous werewolf whose hand rested possessively on her thigh a look of betrayal and hurt flashed across her face. Chloe knew how bad it looked. She’d called Rachel in a panic, unable to tell her anything about the night before, only to have her friend find her safe and unharmed at home. It was then Chloe knew her questions would have to wait. If she wanted to salvage the one friendship she’d relied on her entire life, it was time to start sucking up.

Too bad Rachel wasn’t in a forgiving mood.

As soon as they’d made it to Chloe’s room Rachel let it fly. Chloe listened as her friend vented, knowing how it felt when a person needed an outlet. When she learned Rachel had traveled to The Wolf’s Den looking for her, she couldn’t mask a sympathetic wince.

Rachel didn’t like things she didn’t understand—especially things that had the ability to shift forms and kill people. It was the primary interest the friends didn’t have in common. Chloe didn’t say a word as she finished packing her things, aware she wasn’t going to be able to avoid a confrontation forever. At least all of her eggs were finally in one basket. No more unexpected or unwelcome surprises.

“You should have called me or at least answered your phone,” Rachel repeated, voice heated. “I went looking for you! I could have become a Scooby snack.”

“I didn’t have a chance,” she finally said, zipping her bag closed. “I planned on calling you as soon as I got home.”

“Your new boyfriend wouldn’t have anything to do with the loss of brain cells, would he?” Rachel snapped. “You couldn’t pry yourself away from him for five minutes to tell me you were okay? Don’t you think I deserved that much? You said you were in deep shit, Chloe! I was scared to death.”

“Believe it or not I wasn’t thinking about you at the time.” She knew it sounded cold but she and Rachel had always been honest with each other. “I wanted you to tell Gram and Gramps I was okay so they wouldn’t worry. In case it’s slipped your notice, I’m dealing with some crazy shit right now.”

“Believe me, I noticed. It’s kind of impossible not to when you bring a werewolf home. What are you thinking? You know how dangerous they are.” Rachel lowered her voice. Anger marred the beauty of her face. “He could hurt you and your family. You’ve seen the news. You know what they’re capable of.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the news.” She whipped around, facing Rachel. “News that’s brought to the public by humans, with human interests, who don’t trust the paranormal things they discriminate against. Jackson would never hurt any of us. You don’t know him, Rach.”

“You don’t know him either,” Rachel shot back. “You just met the guy.”

“You’re wrong.”

There was a part of her that knew Jackson better than she knew anyone else. The connection between them was so strong she knew precisely where he was in the house—exactly where she’d left him at the foot of the stairs—as though she could feel him somehow. In fact, she was anxious to leave the room and return to him, craving his scent and closeness. He replaced anxiety with calm, eradicating the doubts that plagued her.

Rachel plopped her hands on her slim hips. “One night with a werewolf and you’ve decided to go to bat for the other team? Is that it?”

I am the other team.

One thought provided clarity and a dizzying amount of relief. What Jackson had told her was true. The mark on her wrist wasn’t a coincidence. Her father had passed his genes—his werewolf genes—to her. Like a key opening a lock to the unknown, her future and what it held seemed limitless. There was no room for fear, only acceptance and a small spark of excitement. There was so much she would be able to do, so many things she’d be able to learn. And she’d learn them with a sexy-as-sin man who set her blood on fire.

Holy wow.

The simple thought made her skin prickle with heat, anticipation pumping through her system. The night before had been an appetizer. She wanted to touch him, tease him and taste him. There were no limits. Jackson wasn’t a blushing violet. He wanted her open, honest and raw. There wouldn’t be any secrets. Only two people exploring everything together.

For a moment she imagined his fingers darting over her throat, her flesh tingling at the remembrance of his caress. Tonight he’d touch her again. He’d expose her to his gaze, eyes combing over her in lust, and she’d let him.

Elation and desire turned to sadness when she met Rachel’s gaze.

How did she explain that she’d always been different? She just hadn’t known how different until now.

“What if I told you I was meant to find Jackson?” she asked slowly, attempting to broach the topic in a way Rachel wouldn’t feel threatened by. “What if I said our meeting wasn’t accidental?”

“I’d say you’ve been reading too many Paranormal Junkies magazines and romance novels.”

“I’m serious.”

Rachel drummed her fingers over her hipbones and tossed her long, red-hued hair over her shoulder. “I’d want to know where you’re getting your information from. FYI, a palm reader with a crystal ball doesn’t count.”

“My father,” Chloe blurted, knowing she had to be honest. “It’s all because of him.”

“Whoa. Back up.” Rachel lowered her hands, confusion etched on her face, no longer on the offensive. “How did the topic go from Jackson to your father?”

“My father isn’t human.”

“Hello, I know that. We’ve had this discussion.” Rachel rolled her eyes as though she could communicate her agitation to the good lord above. “He’s an asshole you’re better off without.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

There was no going back. Once Rachel knew the truth she could take it or leave it. The walls seemed to close in as Chloe took a deep breath, afraid of the ramifications of sharing the news, knowing she didn’t have any other choice.

Stop delaying the inevitable.

Resigned, she exhaled softly and said, “My father isn’t human. He’s a werewolf.”

“He’s a what?” Rachel hoped like hell her ears were deceiving her. Chloe had to be making a funny. A really stupid fucking funny. She didn’t appreciate the attempt at bad humor.

“You heard me.” Chloe tucked a couple of unruly curls behind her ear, a nervous habit Rachel had become accustomed to. “Don’t parrot.”

Don’t parrot. A regular phrase the two used that seemed so out of place.

“Why are you only telling me this now?” Rachel grappled for words. “How could you keep something like that from me?”

“I didn’t keep anything from you. I didn’t find out until last night.”

“Last night? Was this before or after you visited The Wolf’s Den?”

“A bit of both, actually.” Chloe blushed, the apples of her cheeks turning red. “I always thought I was different but it wasn’t until I went into The Wolf’s Den and met Jackson…” She exhaled slowly and shifted her feet, clasping her hands together. After a moment she cleared her throat and whispered, “That’s when I knew for sure.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine what her friend was thinking about. Chloe was obviously smitten with Jackson, watching him from the corner of her eye, allowing her fingers to linger on his arm as she told him she was packing a few things and would hurry back.

An image of another man—one who’d tossed her inside a room and left her breathless—flashed before Rachel’s eyes. All muscles, tattoos and attitude. With eyes captivating and shiny as gold. A warm tingle erupted in her stomach and goose bumps scattered over her skin. For a moment she’d considered sticking around, if only to see what no-name-tattoo-artist would do. Then it had hit her she was flirting with something dangerous enough to shatter her bones and snuff out her lights.

Slamming back to the present, she brushed off the intrusive sensations. The man—while good-looking and yummy as sin—had essentially threatened her if she didn’t do as he said. Climbing out the window was possibly the smartest decision she’d ever made. She depended on herself to get shit done. Relying on someone else was just asking for trouble.

“You’re sure?”

Chloe nodded. “Gramps confirmed things this morning.”

“That would explain your attraction to all things kooky,” Rachel said, glancing at her friend. Humor had always gotten them through rough patches in the past. Hopefully playful teasing would overcome the tension in the room.

“Jackson isn’t kooky.”

No, he wasn’t, but she wasn’t letting Chloe off that easy.

Time to break the ice. “Says the woman sleeping with him. I’m still on the fence.”

“You’re on the fence about everything.” Her friend’s eyes warmed, amusement visible in the pools of green. “Maybe you should go out and find a werewolf. It might change your life.”

Even though she knew the comment was meant as a joke, a spike of panic made her heart skip a beat. For the second time she pictured the man from the tattoo shop, shivering when she recalled how he’d looked at her. His gaze alone had made her nipples ache and her pussy clench. He wasn’t one to fool around. He’d take what he wanted, when he wanted it. And he wouldn’t ask.

Recovering before she roused her friend’s suspicion, she returned her hands to her hips. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll stick to plastic and batteries when it comes to my sexual needs.”

“So you’re not upset?”

Rachel froze caught off guard when reality reached out and slapped her in the face. Oh God. Chloe actually thought she’d think less of her because of what her father was. That she might not view her in the same way once she found out the truth. Why hadn’t she noticed? What in the hell was wrong with her?

A six-foot-plus man with tattoos and an ego the size of Everest. That’s what.

“Hell no,” she answered and took a step toward the one friend she’d always counted on, the only person she truly trusted. “Friends forever, remember?”

“Even if I’m not who you thought?” Chloe asked quietly. “I’m not human, Rach. I might become one of the things that freak you out.”

Crap.

True, she’d never liked anything paranormal, but this was Chloe.

“Not possible.” Not in a million years. They’d been through too much—had shared too much—to destroy the bond between them. “I don’t care what you are. You’re still you. That much hasn’t changed.”

“I hope so,” she whispered, sounding lost. “Everything’s happened so fast. Yesterday I thought I knew who I was. I’m so confused.”

Crossing the distance, Rachel took her friend into her arms. Chloe sagged against her, holding her so tight it was hard to breathe. Rachel didn’t complain. Over the years they’d taken turns being strong for each other. It was obvious it was her turn to bear the weight, to offer a shoulder to lean on.

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, stroking a hand over her friend’s curly hair. “It’s like your grandma says. When one door closes another one opens.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, she didn’t say anything. Instead she played the role of the rock, anchoring the fragile young woman to solid ground. Friends forever. Just as they’d vowed on the elementary school playground when they were six years old and faced their first bully together.

Chloe was home and she was safe. To hell with the rest. They would deal with obstacles in their path as they came to them—just like they always did. Nothing could come between them. Rachel wouldn’t allow it.

At the present moment, nothing else mattered.

Chapter Seven

Jackson led Chloe inside the small cabin he used when he needed time alone, relaxing as he entered the space. He waited until she stepped past the threshold to close the door, gauging her movements, scenting a hint of nervousness. She studied her surroundings, turning slowly as her gaze swept over the space. The living room connected to the kitchen, the bedroom and bathroom nestled upstairs.

It wasn’t much, although he’d never intended it to be. He visited the cabin when he needed a break from his responsibilities. The moment he’d viewed the property, he’d known he had to have it.

Aside from Declan, no one knew about the place.

When Chloe gave a soft sneeze he immediately wished he’d taken the time to air out the cabin during the summer. Usually he visited when the weather was warm, keeping the back door that led to the wraparound porch open so he could shift at his leisure and explore the ten-acre spread. To his dismay, he realized the tension between neighboring packs hadn’t allowed him to do much of anything. He’d only visited the cabin twice in the past year. His life revolved around the wolves who turned to him for guidance. They were his primary focus.

Until now.

“Let me take that,” he said and reached for the bag gripped in his female’s fist.

The trip to the cabin had been quiet—too quiet. Ever since Chloe had come downstairs with her clearly disapproving friend—who’d given him the glare of death—she hadn’t had much to say. He knew she was trying to cope with the things she’d learned, as well as accept what he was certain were foreign feelings stirring to life inside her.

Their interaction had been strained, the comfortable nearness they’d shared in Fletcher’s office replaced by nerves. His mate allowed his touch even as she glanced at her grandparents and friend for reassurance and acceptance. Since their approval meant so much to her, he’d gone out of his way to be courteous. He was on his best behavior, promising to care for Chloe, ease her into her transition and bring her back after the weekend.

Now that he was alone with his mate, it was time to live up to his word.

She didn’t argue as he slid the bag from her fingers. He carried the duffel to the table near the kitchen and rested it on the top. When he heard the stairs creak he glanced over his shoulder. Chloe had decided to investigate, carefully making her way upstairs. She looked good enough to eat in a snug pair of jeans and a white camisole visible beneath the thin sweater she’d tossed on, her cozy brown leather jacket hugging her curves. He wanted to bury his fingers in her curls, whisper his desires in her ear. Keeping a distance had almost killed him, his fingers itching to touch her.

“We’ll have to change the linens.” He wasn’t sure why he’d stated the obvious. Maybe it was due to his quickly swelling cock. The engorged organ ached for the haven of her body.

“Where are they?” she asked, peering over the railing. “I can do it.”

Damn.

The sound of her voice crept over his body, settling in his ears. He had to draw a deep breath, trying to keep his lust in check. Tonight he’d be able sate his needs. When the moon rose it would send his sweet little mate into the mating heat, preparing her for the full moon that would arrive the next day. If he was lucky he could strengthen their bond tonight. They’d need an established connection to make her shift easier, so that the pain and alarm she felt were minimal.

As he climbed the stairs the scent of her arousal lined his nostrils, crashing into him like a coiled fist. The shift in her emotions was unexpected. He lifted is head, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were clouded with desire, darkening as he neared. There was a light in the iris he identified, the wolf within making itself known.

Double damn.

He wanted to tap into her wild side and see how untamed she would be when the animal took over and the woman held on for the ride but first he had to create a measure of understanding between them. Her lust was easily handled. It was trust he had to establish. Taking her against the wall would only reinforce the sexual nature of their relationship. He wanted more—the unique connection that brought mates together.

“Here,” he answered softly, squeezing past her smaller frame, forcing his hands to his sides so he didn’t reach out and draw her to him.

After he retrieved fresh sheets he went to work stripping the bed. Chloe stood back and watched, feet moving from side to side, revealing her restlessness. He didn’t ask for help, letting her come to him, giving her space. Eventually she walked to the other side of the bed to assist. He remained silent, studying her beneath his lashes. By the time they finished and he looked at her the glow in her irises had faded. She saw him staring and lowered her gaze. The blush creeping up her neck was sexy as hell.

“Do you like the outdoors?” he asked and walked to the closet.

“Uh…I guess. Why?”

He took a heavy duvet and down comforter from the shelf and looked over his shoulder. His female had collected the strewn sheets and was arranging them in a tidy pile. Her movements betrayed her, the motions jerky. She was as keyed up as he was, fighting sexual urges, unable to contain the excess energy her wolven half brought to the table.

Nothing Mother Nature couldn’t fix.

Thankful she’d kept her jacket on, he crossed to her and took her hand. “Leave them there.”

He tugged the sheets from her other fist and urged her toward the stairs. She didn’t protest as they returned to the living room and walked toward the sliding glass door to the patio, although he could tell she was curious. The sun broke through the chilly air, warming them as they stepped outside.

“Wow,” Chloe exhaled. He let the environment sink in, glad she approved. “It’s gorgeous here.”

“Come on.” He led the way, walking down the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

He relaxed when he felt the tension in the air slowly dissipate as Chloe drew on the natural things around her. Wolves were comforted by open spaces. Thankfully the change of scenery calmed her, even if she wasn’t fully aware of it.

“For a walk,” he answered, continuing on, noting the sound of leaves crunching beneath his boots. “I have to call Declan in a bit to bring us supplies. First I figured we could talk.”

Despite the nagging inner voice that said he should contact his Beta immediately, Jackson wanted his female settled. Once she was comfortable in her surroundings he could contact his friend and make arrangements. The rest would have to keep.

“Declan?” Her brows came together as she collected her thoughts. “Is that the man I met at the shop?”

“That’s him.” He laughed, shooting her a grin. There was only one Declan, thank God. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him. Although his sense of humor could use some work.”

“Really?” She matched his grin with a smile. “Why’s that?”

“He’s prone to speak before he thinks.” The path to the pond on his property was clear, despite the multicolored leaves that had fallen to the ground. He followed it, explaining, “It’s not his best character trait but it’s easy to overlook when you think about what he brings to the table. He’s a helluva man to have at your back. I couldn’t ask for a better Beta.”

“Oh.” Her smile faded and she looked ahead. “I forgot about that.”

“Forgot about what?”

She took a deep breath and said, “You’re an Alpha.”

“It doesn’t change anything.” He stopped, giving her a firm tug so she faced him. “As far as packs go, mine is small. I prefer to keep those I trust close to me. You don’t have anything to worry about. As soon as someone enters our fold they become family.”

When she didn’t seem convinced he invaded her space, pressing close. “They’re going to love you.”

Her gaze remained on his chest, her hand squeezing his. “You seem so sure.”

“I am sure.” Only a few of the males in his pack were unattached. The rest were happily mated. Another bonus of keeping his pack small. Paired werewolves, generally speaking, were happy werewolves. After thinking things over on the drive to the cabin, he’d come to the conclusion that the males and females who had found their other half wouldn’t question him when he brought Chloe to meet the pack. Despite any reservations, many of them were eager to start families—something that wasn’t allowed without a Lupa. As a rule, a pack relied on balance. If Alphas were the muscle, Lupas were the heart. Wolves couldn’t have one without the other. The unmated males would undoubtedly voice their concerns but he was certain the females and their mates would reinforce his status and stand behind his decision.

“When will I meet them?” The insecurity she projected tugged at his heart.

“Tomorrow,” he replied, placing a kiss on her forehead.

He resumed their walk, guiding her down the path. When she tried to stop he pulled on her hand, making sure she didn’t fall behind.

“So soon?” she asked. “I thought I’d have more time.”

Not something he really wanted to answer but then again, she deserved his honesty. “You’re going to go through changes on the full moon. Their presence will help you control your impulses. You need to recognize and accept you’re not alone. You have a pack to ground you.”

“Impulses?” She practically squeaked. He heard the panic in her voice, the fear. “Is that what happened with Gramps? I can’t piece everything together. The memory is muddled.”

For a moment he considered stopping and putting it all on the line—telling her about Gavin, his suspicions and what she should expect. Then he thought about what Chloe was going through. He considered her alarm and how she might react when she learned she’d be changing for the first time tomorrow. He wanted to make things easier for her, not more difficult.

“It’s normal.” He decided to shield her as best he could. “You’ll learn control.”

“So I’m changing.” The statement, to his surprise, sounded more confident than he was prepared for. “That’s what’s happening. I’m not going to stay human. I am becoming like you.”

“Does that scare you?” When she didn’t immediately reply he wondered if he’d pushed too hard, too fast.

“No,” she finally responded with a sigh. “It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“Somehow…it’s like I know you. The dreamsharing makes sense to me in a strange way.” When he peered over at her she shrugged. “It’s almost like I can feel something coming to life inside me.”

“And that doesn’t frighten you?”

“Being scared won’t stop what’s happening.”

Strong and smart little female.

She was right. Worry wouldn’t prevent what would eventually happen. By facing the unknown with her chin held high, his mate proved she was more than capable of standing by his side.

“What’s it like?” she asked softly. “Changing, I mean.”

As though there could be anything else she was referring to.

His phone buzzed against his ass, more than likely Declan contacting him with news. He let the call roll to voice mail. Right now there were more pressing matters that needed his attention.

“Exhilarating.” His answer was as natural as breathing.

There was nothing like changing forms, shifting into a stronger, more capable shape. The first transformation would be painful for Chloe but after the initial shock she’d learn how to manipulate her body. She’d be a beautiful wolf. Even without her tantalizing scent he’d be able to locate her by her blonde coat and green eyes.

“You’ll be able to do things you’ve never imagined,” he added. “The world will be entirely new.”

And he’d be the one to introduce her to her life.

They’d run together, hunt together and make love together. The thought of having her at his side made his heart race, blood thundering in his ears. He’d wanted a female to share the night with for so long. Now he’d have that and so much more.

“Liking jumping out of a plane?” she asked.

“Even better.”

She seemed to weigh the words. “Will it hurt?”

The question brought him crashing down to reality.

“You’re going to be fine.” His vow to keep his hands to himself was broken by her uneasiness. He spun his mate around, looking into her eyes. Releasing her hand, he cupped her face in his palms. “Everything’s going to be perfect. You and me? We’re going to be beautiful together.”

His cell started humming again but he ignored it, lowering his head, brushing his lips across hers. She moaned into his mouth, sagging against him. And he was lost. Swept away by a female who made the world disappear. Nothing was more important than her well-being and happiness. He’d see to it that she had no reason to fear or worry. He would be the one to keep the bad things away, the man she turned to when she needed a shoulder to lean on.

No one would ever harm her.

He’d kill whoever tried.

The brush of her fingers across his chest combined with the scent of her desire nearly undid him. He pulled her closer, bringing his hands to her hips. A breeze drifted off the nearby water, hovering in the air, merging with her arousal. He let himself go, trapped by the taste and feel of his female, growling when her hand skimmed down his torso and whispered over his stomach.

“Chloe,” he groaned, fighting a losing battle, his lust warring with his determination to do things properly. Taking her on the ground, cradled by fall leaves, wasn’t the right thing. She deserved the softness of a mattress, resting against clean sheets and fluffy pillows.

“Hmm?” She cupped his cock, pushing her hand against his length.

Fuck it.

Wrapping his fingers in her hair, he held her in place as his tongue penetrated her mouth, his cock hard and eager. He was only capable of holding back for so long. Chloe obliterated his control. She was so hot she burned him alive.

Besides, he had never been good at doing the right thing.

To hell with it.

Chloe was pretty sure Jackson wasn’t interested in sex. He’d kept distance between them on the car ride to his cabin, making small talk. Then when they arrived he’d put more space between them. She’d tried to follow his lead. She’d even helped him make his damn bed. After what she’d experienced—after he’d faced her family, for Christ’s sake—she couldn’t maintain the ruse any longer. The part of her that had breathed new life wanted more.

She wanted more.

Slow made sense but she didn’t want to make sense. After she’d spoken to Rachel something had clicked. She wanted to be carefree, aching to see Jackson as she had the night before. When he was in his element, confident and cocky, self-assured and somewhat arrogant.

“You make me want to do bad things,” Jackson growled, sounding like the man she wanted to hear, with the edge in his voice she’d missed. “Very, very bad things, Chloe girl.”

She shivered, squirming as a rush of wetness soaked her panties. When he talked to her like that she wanted to drop to her knees and give him whatever he wanted. For a moment she imagined that—on her knees, sucking his cock, out in the open. Before she’d have been mortified for considering it. Now? It made her tingle in all the right places.

Her skin felt as though it was on fire, calmed only by Jackson’s touch. She wanted to feel his hands all over her, the rough pads of his fingers working their magic. He seemed to know exactly what she needed, provoking responses in her she never thought existed. Even now, with a heated kiss, she was ready for whatever he wanted to give her.

“How bad?” she whispered, goading him. “Tell me.”

“Fuck that.” The words came out as a desperate snarl. He yanked her by the hair, forcing her away, gazing into her face. “I’ll show you.”

Oh God.

She brought a hand to his ass, shocked to feel his pocket vibrating. Before she could consider the cause Jackson lowered her to the ground. Even though he was obviously aroused he was gentle with her, bracing her back with his arm. Her thick coat cushioned her shoulders as he lowered himself over her, the hard ridge of his cock nestled at the vee of her thighs, his hips forcing her to spread her legs. Her nipples puckered, straining against her bra. A steady pulsing settled over her clit, making her remember how he’d put his tongue to use when he’d gone down on her.

Going on instinct, she rolled her hips, creating a delicious friction. Their tongues danced, darted away and returned, touching as they kissed. Each breath she took was strained, her lungs feeling as though they were shutting down. All she needed was a little bit more and she’d fall over the edge. Her newfound sexuality didn’t want to be contained. She’d been hovering on the brink all morning, eager for a repeat of their shared evening together, walking on pins and needles.

“Rock against me.” He brought his hands to her waist, guiding her movements, dragging her cleft along his denim-clad shaft. “Rub that hot pussy of yours against my cock. Take what you need.”

Shamelessly, she did, grinding her mound against him. Heat rolled over her, beads of sweat forming on her brow despite the cool weather. She clawed at his leather coat, burying her nails in the material, wishing it was his skin instead. Smells penetrated the air—Jackson, the earth, the alluring fragrance of pine. Burying her face in his neck, she reached for what she wanted, rubbing her pussy against him. Fiery sensation swarmed her, building and intensifying.

So close…

One hard thrust and she cried out, shaking as she came, her eyes clamped shut. She gyrated against him, keeping the glorious electric currents flowing as long as possible, trembling as the world rotated on its axis. Strangely the orgasm wasn’t enough. She felt empty inside, her vaginal walls flexing. She needed Jackson above her, surrounding her with his body, filling her with his cock.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there,” he rasped, as though he’d read her mind.

He unzipped her jacket and cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples. Her head fell back, small twigs and leaves snagging in her hair, sharp edges poking at her scalp. Somehow the unexpected and harsh sensations made the moment more real, more animal. Apparently foreplay would have to wait.

She wanted Jackson. Now.

His button fly didn’t give her any trouble, parting like a breeze when she tugged at the fastener. He lifted up, giving her access, aiding her in her task. She knew it wouldn’t take much to reveal his straining erection. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. A couple well-timed yanks and his cock would be free. Once he removed her jeans nothing would stand in their way. She’d urge him to take her hard and fast, needing to feel him plunging into her over and over again.

Realization poured over her and her fingers stilled.

“Condom,” she blurted, startled when his silken flesh slapped into her hand, reminding her of how stupid she’d almost been again. She’d forgotten that all-important element of sex before. She couldn’t risk doing so a second time.

Jackson looked at her, confusion in his eyes. “What?”

“We need to use condoms. I’m not on the Pill.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” He pinched her nipples, causing her to gasp, passion and sexual hunger attempting to overcome reason. “Trust me.”

She’d trust him with just about anything…but not that. The ramifications were too severe. The cost too high.

“I do,” she disagreed, denying her traitorous body, feeling his cock prodding her thigh. She steeled herself not to respond when he circled his fingers around the pointed peaks covered by her clothing.

“It’s not your time to conceive. I’d know.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Of course I do.” He rose above her, his irises like bottled whiskey tempered by fire. “I am part wolf, baby.”

No arguing that.

He was equal parts animal and man—a perfect and sinful combination.

Unexpectedly his pocket buzzed again, teasing her fingers through the thin layer of denim. She frowned, manipulating her hand and making out the shape of a phone. She was about to ask who was calling when everything changed—throwing her off balance, confusing the hell out of her. She didn’t have a chance to brace herself. Jackson suddenly disappeared, leaving her gazing at the open sky feeling cold and bereft.

Who knew he could move so fast?

She hadn’t even seen him pull away.

Flipping onto her stomach, she tried to look in his direction. Where had he gone and why? A loud snarl pierced the air, horrifying in a way. When she finally saw Jackson her breath caught, sexual heat swiftly turning to alarm.

He was crouched a few feet in front of her, his hands steady on the ground, resting his weight on his toes. She couldn’t see his face but the tense line of his shoulders told her something was off. He was focused on something in the distance she couldn’t see.

“Jackson?” she asked cautiously, unnerved by his behavior and the awareness that bloomed inside her. He was putting himself between her and what he perceived as a threat.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, his voice deeper than usual, and she felt his power slam into her to reinforce his will. “Stay there, Chloe. That’s an order.”

There was no time to question him. He leapt from his crouch, moving so quickly that he vanished into the line of trees in a blink. She held her breath, heart pounding in her chest, palms stinging from the pine needles that had dug into her skin. Seconds ticked by. She wanted to stand but couldn’t. Despite willing her limbs to move, she stayed exactly as he’d left her. Something inside her obeyed Jackson’s command, taking it as gospel.

What the hell?

A loud snarl came from the trees, then another. She heard Jackson, growling something she couldn’t make out. Silenced followed.

She waited, her stomach uneasy.

What had he found out there?

Werewolves weren’t supposed to be frightened of anything. Judging by Jackson’s behavior he’d been more than concerned about what he’d sensed—he’d been pissed. She hadn’t thought anything could rattle the man. Knowing something had the power to put him on alert like that, taking him from a demanding lover to a hard-edged wolf, made her nervous.

Loud snapping sounds—branches breaking under force—interrupted the soft melody of nature. She watched, unable to do anything else, eyes lingering on the space between two trees. More snaps followed and she realized the noises were footsteps. Then she heard Jackson’s deep baritone. He was speaking softly, a warning, evident by his tone. When he appeared he was holding another man—a completely nude one, at that—by the back of the neck.

“You’re one stupid son of a bitch.”

“I can’t tell my Alpha no,” the man responded, walking as though he wasn’t embarrassed by his lack of clothing. “I only came to confirm the rumor. I didn’t mean you any harm.”

“The hell you didn’t,” Jackson snarled, giving the man a firm shake. “You came to spy on me—on my fucking mate—with shitty intentions.”

“I didn’t—”

“Andy, shut the fuck up before you piss me off. I’m trying real hard not to kill you. I’ve got enough shit to deal with without your blood on my hands.”

Although his state of undress didn’t bother Andy, his first glimpse at Chloe did. His green eyes widened, becoming saucers as he stared at her. It was as though he comprehended something he hadn’t before, putting two and two together. She wasn’t sure what he was seeing or why he looked so spooked. He lowered his gaze, swallowing so hard she saw his Adam’s apple bob.

“It’s okay, baby,” Jackson said, tearing her mind from the man. “Go ahead and get up. You’re safe.”

Just like that, whatever spell had kept her in place was broken. She considered giving Jackson a piece of her mind. Who the hell was he to bring her to heel? She was a person, damn it. Not a pet.

After she rose to her feet, however, she thought better of it. Blood tricked from slices in Andy’s skin, created by Jackson’s claws. She studied the vicious-looking things, shocked by how long and sharp they were. When she’d gotten a glimpse of his fangs when they’d had sex, she’d been turned on.

This made her feel something else entirely.

A stampede coming from behind her got her attention, forcing her to rip her eyes from the claws at Andy’s throat. She turned in time to see the man from the parlor—Declan—running like the devil was on his ass. He slowed when he saw them, his face a mask of agitation. He continued crossing the distance, fury radiating from him, his eyes a bright shade of gold.

“I see I didn’t make it in time.” He lifted his hand, revealing a phone. “Next time, answer your fucking cell.”

“Tell me what you know,” Jackson instructed without an apology, within a few feet of her now, forcing Andy to walk slightly in front of him.

“Gavin found out I was asking questions.”

“How?” Jackson knew Gavin would notice Declan sniffing around, but he hadn’t counted on the Alpha doing so that quickly.

“Some of his business acquaintances overheard me at the diner. When I visited Gavin’s bar, I managed to eavesdrop on a conversation before I was told to leave. Gavin spread the word that something was going down. He sent your friend there,” he pointed at Andy, “to see what was what. I tried to call and warn you but you didn’t have the courtesy to answer your goddamn phone.”

“So he doesn’t know?”

Declan’s gaze darted over to her. “Not yet.”

There was a hidden meaning in that look.

“Know what?” she asked, determined to know what he was hiding, ready to take control of her life and everything involving it.

Jackson’s expression changed. Despite the distance between them she felt the shift in his mood. Her stomach churned, bile rising to her throat. She didn’t know if what he intended was bad or good.

He looked at Declan and said, “Go inside and call the pack. Tell them to meet us at the shop in an hour. It’s time to strategize.”

“You got it.” Declan went from annoyed to almost eager. He rushed away, running from them almost as fast as he’d approached.

Jackson crossed the remaining feet, keeping Andy away from her. He reached out with his free hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her against his side. Lowering his head, he breathed into her ear, his soft exhale caressing the shell.

“How much do you want to know?” When she tried to speak, he interrupted, “Think about the question before you answer. Make sure you’re ready to go there.”

It was like jumping without a safety net. He’d answer her questions even if she didn’t want to hear certain things. She’d be going in blind but would surface wiser for it. Whatever was happening was important. If the pack was coming, she didn’t want to be a weak link. She wanted to be an equal. She’d been honest when she said worrying about what was to come wouldn’t help her. It would only delay the inevitable.

Turning her head so her lips brushed his jaw, she replied softly, a sharp edge of anticipation spiking through her, “Everything. I want to know everything.”

Chapter Eight

Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

So damn true.

Chloe listened as the pack spoke, trying to pretend she was comfortable in their presence, soaking in what she’d learned. Jackson knew her father. Apparently he’d known who her father was from the moment they’d met, since she looked exactly like the asshole. The truth clarified a lot of things, but it didn’t totally alleviate her tension.

Not when Jackson hadn’t had all the answers to her subsequent questions.

Although he was certain Gavin Worthington had gotten her mother pregnant, he didn’t know the circumstances involved. It was bizarre. She’d never given her father any consideration really, aside from loathing him for what he’d done to her mother. Fantasies of meeting the bastard had never come to mind. She wasn’t a child who needed a parent. Her grandparents had seen to that.

Now though, armed with the truth, she had to admit she was slightly curious. She wanted to know where she came from.

A woman who’d arrived with an imposing male stared at her. Chloe hurried to remember the female’s name, recalling Jackson had introduced her as Heather. She wasn’t sure if he’d been honest about the size of his pack. From what she could see, he wasn’t short on numbers. There were seventeen in all. Twelve were mated couples. The remaining five were single males.

After a quick introduction she’d settled into the chair Jackson had provided for her. The couples had been welcoming, greeting her with warm smiles. The men had given her polite nods and curious stares but otherwise they hadn’t seemed impressed. Even so, things had gone well. They might not like her, but they didn’t hate her. There were no fights or arguments, only questions Jackson was quick to answer.

So far, so good.

“Chloe?” Jackson’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “What do you think?”

Lifting her head to stare at him, she blinked several times. She hadn’t been listening. Therefore she didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t want everyone to think she was slow on the uptake. One small misstep and she’d look like an ass.

Shit.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” It was a horrible response to any question but she hoped her input sufficed.

Jackson cocked a brow, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not sure,” he said, informing her that he’d known she hadn’t been paying attention. “Your grandfather wants to put a bullet in Gavin’s ass. If the two of them come face-to-face, I have a feeling things will get nasty.”

She felt the blood drain from her face.

Apparently when she’d been lost in her thoughts, the group had decided it was best to involve the man who’d raised her.

If Gramps met the man who’d destroyed his only child, he would want revenge. Jackson had briefly indicated such a meeting might be necessary to cement their mating to the packs in the area but she was hoping to avoid it. Surely her biological parent couldn’t try to influence her life now.

“That’s an understatement and you know it. Gramps will kill him.”

“All the more reason to do it,” Declan interjected, flexing his arms as he leaned forward in his chair, making his tattoos stretch. “The old man was your protector. He sheltered you, fed you and cared for you. He has the final say in your mating. Gavin can’t do shit about that. He’s fucked.”

“I don’t want him in danger.” Gramps was wily but he was old. He was in no condition to take on anyone—much less a werewolf. Not that it mattered. She’d already decided she’d give Gavin a piece of her mind if he ever tried to dictate what would happen in her future.

“He won’t be.” The conviction in Jackson’s retort eased some of her tension. “As the man who raised you he’s entitled to confront anyone he believes has endangered you.”

“I hardly classify any of this as endangerment.”

Abandonment? Sure. Endangerment? That was a stretch.

Jackson’s eyes shifted color, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “If you hadn’t found me,” he growled, “you’d be singing a very different tune, Chloe girl.”

“So you keep telling me,” she growled right back, finding her temper operating on a hair trigger. “Maybe if you repeat yourself a few more times the message will stick.”

The energy in the room shifted and she gazed up. Everyone was watching the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and humor. The mated males especially, as though they’d been waiting a long time for that very moment. Usually she didn’t like being the center of attention but since she was already the elephant in the room she figured she might as well speak her mind.

“If you declare her as your mate during the hunt no one can question it,” a big male—Clint, she remembered—said to Jackson, getting the conversation back on track. “If her protector puts his seal on the match in front of local Alphas it’s a done deal. No fuss, no muss.”

The woman next to him—his mate Elsie—grasped Clint’s arm. “But he’s human.” She shot a quick glance at Chloe. “The law…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jackson finished after a moment. “Fletcher Bryant has earned the right to speak. No one will question that. If they do they’ll risk the fury of the pack. As a member of my mate’s family he’s entitled to our protection.”

“Gavin won’t like it,” Elsie murmured.

“Who gives a fuck what Gavin likes?” Declan snarled, his teasing nature evaporating. “He’s a pompous ass who needs to be taken down a few notches.”

“Declan,” Clint growled. “That’s my female you’re talking to.”

Declan’s lips quirked, forming into a sarcastic smirk. “My most humble apology, Elsie, for offending your gentle sensibilities.”

“Asshole,” Elsie sneered. Clint gave Declan a glare that promised payback.

Chloe glanced at the small window above the sofa, noting the sky had become dark. It was almost nighttime. The moon would rise soon. Relentless sexual energy returned, making her keenly aware of her body.

Cut it out. Now isn’t the time.

“What do we do about our guest in the basement?” One of the single males in the pack—Shane—asked, bringing her back to the present. “If you let Andy go he’ll tell his Alpha everything. If you don’t Gavin will come sniffing around for his missing snitch.”

Chloe tried not to stare like she had when they were introduced. Shane only had one tattoo—a full sleeve—but it wasn’t the ink that made her edgy. It was the lethal and potent power that surrounded him. If she didn’t know better she’d think the man was born to be a leader, not a follower.

“We could cut out his tongue,” Declan offered.

“You’re disgusting,” Elsie snapped, narrowing her eyes at her pack mate. “Are you going to cut off his fingers too? He doesn’t have to talk. He could write the information down, you know.”

Rather than being offended, Declan shrugged. “Just putting it out there. And now that you mention it, cutting off his fingers is probably a good idea.” He peered over at Jackson. “Do you think the bastard can write with his feet too? Should we cut off his toes?”

Dear God, he can’t be serious.

Jackson slid his fingers under her hair, resting his palm against her neck. The gesture was comforting, slowing the beating of her heart. “That won’t be necessary,” he said quietly. “Andy’s safely caged. We’ll keep him there until the matter is settled.”

“You’re so cruel.” Declan laughed, eyes turning gold, his earlier anger gone. “Keeping him caged on the full moon.”

“It’s a light punishment compared to what he deserves.” Jackson curled his fingers around her nape, the motion disrupting random strands of hair, making her scalp tickle.

A knock at the door had them all glancing up. It wasn’t the first time someone had come to the parlor. Although Jackson’d had everyone park in the back and had flipped the sign to closed, people continued showing up for their appointments. Declan warned Jackson that three people were scheduled for ink. Since this was the third interruption, she assumed it had to be another unlucky person who’d shown up and wouldn’t get what he or she came for.

“We need to wrap this up.” Declan sat back in his seat, annoyance etched in his face. “Before undesirables start coming around.”

“So what’s the plan?” Clint asked.

Jackson’s lowered his eyes, meeting Chloe’s gaze.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one whose head was in the gutter.

She tried not to shiver at the heat in his stare, embarrassed to feel her nipples harden and her pussy contract. Everyone had to know what was transpiring between them, aware of what their Alpha had in store for his mate. Her own sense of smell was evolving and she swore she detected something spicy and thick in the air.

Jackson’s lust.

It shouldn’t have been possible but the scent called to her, blocking out the harsh odor of the sanitizers and chemicals the shop used to keep their tools clean.

“We need to face everyone as a unified pack,” Jackson answered, tearing his eyes from hers. “I want everyone to gather at Atrum Divide. Be there at five o’clock sharp. We’ll drive to the hunt together.”

Atrum Divide? No way.

She was only becoming accustomed to all things werewolf. She wasn’t ready to visit their local haunts. Humans stupid enough to venture into the supernatural bar never came back.

Jackson massaged her neck, working on the suddenly tense muscles. He leaned in for a quick kiss, brushing his lips over hers. “We’ll be leaving soon,” he told her, voice low. “After I bust your ass for testing me in front of the pack you can tell me what’s going through that head of yours.”

Her eyes went wide, cheeks becoming hot. She didn’t know which was more mortifying—that he’d threatened to spank her in front of the pack or that she felt a flutter in her tummy just thinking about being placed over his knee.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Two words and she had her answer.

He totally would.

“What about your future grandpa-in-law?” Declan asked, tilting his head, studying their exchange. “We can’t take him inside The Divide. He’d have a heart attack.”

“I said we’d meet there, not that we’d go in, smartass,” Jackson retorted, pulling away from her. “Gather in the back lot near the rear entrance. We’ll head out as soon as everyone arrives. I’ll also need someone to miss the hunt. Once Fletcher addresses Gavin he’ll need to be escorted from the premises.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Shane responded before anyone else could. “No worries.”

For some reason Chloe got the impression Shane wanted to avoid the hunt. She wasn’t sure why. He appeared at ease with the pack but she sensed he kept everyone at a distance. She frowned as she studied the man, trying to figure him out. Perhaps the idea of sprouting fur and running all fours didn’t appeal to him either.

Yeah right.

From what she’d gathered the hunt brought wolves in the area together. They shifted, ventured into the enormous piece of property that was open only to their kind and allowed the animals inside them free rein.

Why would he want to miss something so important?

Another knock interrupted them—this one sounding much closer—forcing her to put her questions about Shane on hold. Everyone’s attention drifted to the hallway. One knock became two, then three. The back door to the building was right around the corner and someone was pounding on it.

“Jackson Donovan,” an angry, masculine voice bellowed. “Get your ass out here. I want a word with you.”

Jackson snarled, glaring at Declan. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

To his credit, Declan appeared uneasy. “With everything else going on, I forgot to tell you. Simone stopped by and informed me her father would be paying you a visit. She’s tired of waiting.”

“Who are you talking about?” Chloe asked, studying the reactions of those in the room. The mated couples had taken to whispering and the single males looked like they were preparing for a fight.

“That would be Ward Wilson. A decent guy with a bitch of a daughter,” Declan answered when no one else did. “Apparently she’s tired of being blown off.”

“Blown off?”

“Told no, turned away, given the shaft. You know—blown off.” Declan settled his intense gaze on her. “Simone Wilson has a thing for your boy toy.”

“Declan,” Jackson snapped, and Chloe could almost feel the fury coming from her lover. “You’re starting to piss me off.”

“Who’s Simone?”

“She’s from another pack,” Elsie shared before Declan could stoke the flames, giving the Beta an eat-shit-and-die glare. “She wants Jackson to agree to an arranged mating.”

The information did more than provide clarity—it also made Chloe furious.

Jackson was more than gorgeous, he was positively irresistible. Women the world over would take one look at the man and want him. But knowing a female had the audacity to try to force him into a relationship—one that would take him away from her—brought on a possessiveness that clawed at her insides.

“Did you lead her on?” A part of her wanted to wince when she heard how bitchy she sounded, like a scorned lover lashing out when she learned her man had been dipping his jimmy stick into other women. Maybe it was a werewolf thing but in the human world a father didn’t appear at a man’s doorstep unless someone had done something wrong. If she was going to put her pride on the line, she wanted to make she had a damn good reason.

“Hell no.” Despite everything that had transpired, Jackson had never let her go, resting his hand on her nape. She felt a sharp bite at her throat—his claws—as his fingers tightened around her neck. He dropped to a knee, bringing them eye to eye. “When we’re finally alone I’m going to show you why you shouldn’t have asked that question.” He waited for the words to sink in before he whispered, “You’re sexy when you’re jealous, Chloe girl.”

“Jackson!” Ward bellowed and another thunderous round of pounding resumed. “If you don’t open the door I’m breaking the fucker down.”

“At the risk of stating the obvious,” Shane offered quietly, completely serious and somber, “you should probably address the issue. The last thing you want is to face the pack with an Alpha on your back. Gavin will be bad enough.”

Jackson stood and lifted his hand, releasing her. She rubbed the back of her neck, finding that he’d been careful with his claws and hadn’t so much as scratched her skin. Craning her neck, she looked up at him. The playful glint in his eyes was gone. His shoulders were tense, his brows furrowed. When she looked at his hands she didn’t see any claws, although his fingers were curled into fists.

“Fuck it. I didn’t want to hurt Wade’s feelings by telling him his daughter gets me about as hot as the fucking Arctic, but he asked for it.”

“I’ll come with you.” Declan rose, rubbing his hands together.

“No.” Jackson strode toward the door, turning his back on all of them—including her. “Stay here. All of you.”

Before she could argue she felt that same odd energy surrounding her, cementing his will. She’d never gotten the chance to chew his ass out for pulling the stunt earlier. She was supposed to be his mate—his equal—not a plaything he bossed around.

Rotating her gaze around the room, she saw everyone else had been affected in the same way. None of them moved, remaining exactly as Jackson had left them.

As she sat fuming, she decided that she couldn’t wait to get Jackson alone. As soon as the opportunity presented itself she was going to show him why it wasn’t smart to underestimate her. He was going to regret treating her like this—whatever this was—not once, but twice.

It was time for her to teach him a few things for a change.

The moment Jackson opened the door he was greeted by Wade. The Alpha had brought along his Beta, who stood a few feet back. Jackson stepped into the night, feeling the rays of the moon wrapping around him. His mating was supposed to be the best thing that had ever happened to him, not a series of unfortunate events. Since the moment he’d met his mate in the flesh he hadn’t been able to enjoy her. It had been one thing after a fucking other.

That ended tonight.

Normally he would have heard someone out. But not this time. He went straight for the throat. “I don’t want your daughter. I told her I wasn’t interested. She wouldn’t listen. So I’m telling you.” He took another step forward, getting into Wade’s personal space, monitoring the Beta who mirrored his movement. “I don’t want Simone. I’m not interested in an arranged mating. The answer is no.”

There. It was done. Sign, sealed and delivered.

His relief was squashed when the very person he was trying to avoid slid out of the enormous SUV Wade had arrived in. As always, Simone made sure her assets were on full display. This time she was clothed in leather, showcasing all her curves. She glided over on high heels, her visage one of insult and outrage.

“How dare you,” she snarled, storming toward him. “You fucking bastard.”

“Don’t interrupt,” Wade warned Simone, rotating to face her. “You kept vital information regarding this situation to yourself. We’ll have to discuss that.”

A-fucking-men. A ray of sunshine on an otherwise shitty day.

While Wade doted on his daughter, the man was an Alpha through and through. Jackson had hoped Wade would understand his disinterest wasn’t personal. He simply wasn’t interested in Simone—period.

“He’s being difficult.” Simone changed tactics, becoming whiny. “If you talk to him he’ll change his mind. This could strengthen the pack. It’s time for you to stop being second best.”

Ouch. That had to hurt.

Jackson’s gaze darted to Wade, who’d taken one hell of an insult. The Alpha didn’t so much as flinch. Simone—in true Simone fashion—didn’t seem to realize she’d just socked it to her old man in the worst possible way, indicating he wasn’t strong enough to stand on his own. Fortunately Jackson was polite enough to look away and salvage some of the man’s pride.

“Did Mr. Donovan indicate he was interesting in an arranged mating with you, Simone?” Jackson’s admiration for Wade increased. The Alpha was handling the situation better than other fathers would have. “Did he say he’d consider your offer? Don’t try to convince me this was his idea. Not unless you want me to take your credit cards for the next few months.”

“Of course he did.” Simone didn’t back down, feigning hurt.

“I did not,” Jackson corrected with a snarl. “Before you try to argue, you should know something.” He narrowed his eyes even though he knew Simone wouldn’t heed the warning. “You interrupted me while I was introducing my mate to my pack.”

Wade’s gaze darted to Simone before he gawked at Jackson. “Your mate?”

“That’s right.”

Folding his arms across his chest, he faced the man who’d obviously been sucker-punched repeatedly. First his daughter had tricked him into visiting a man who wasn’t interested in her. Then he’d learned she’d been keeping secrets in order to get what she wanted. Now he knew she hadn’t stood a chance in hell the entire time.

“He’s lying,” Simone said in a rush. “He’s always lying.”

Wade didn’t even glace at his child. Jackson almost felt sorry for the wrath that was about to come down on Simone for making a fool of her old man. “When are you introducing her to the packs?”

“Tomorrow. At the hunt.”

Wade met Jackson’s gaze and held it. When he read the truth in his words, he snapped, “Get in the car, Simone.”

“But—”

“I said get in the car!” Wade roared, pivoting away from Jackson. “Zip your lip and do as you’re told.”

“No,” she retorted, reaching out and placing her hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. The flirty female never listened. That was what she was known for—all body and zero brains. What he didn’t expect was to see her flying back several feet, knocked to the ground as someone barreled out of the building behind him and took the female to the ground.

In an instant he knew who had disobeyed his order to remain inside.

Curly blonde hair flared around Chloe as she wrapped her hands around Simone’s throat and applied pressure. His mate’s words weren’t words at all. More like snarls of a creature that was out for blood.

He rushed toward the screaming females, intent on the one who was—even without full possession of her wolf—currently beating the hell out of a werewolf with several pounds and a whole lot of inches on her.

Son of a bitch.

The woman beneath Chloe was covered in a cloud of red, making it impossible to make out the color of her eyes or hair.

Not that it mattered.

The moment she’d heard Simone speaking to Jackson, something had snapped. The members of the pack had watched in disbelief as she rose from her seat and walked toward the door. She hadn’t looked back, driven by a force that had taken over. Fury had obliterated logic. The moment she’d entered the hallway and saw the strange woman touch him, the wolf had taken control.

Moments in time were blurry. She vaguely recalled bursting from the parlor and tackling the woman to the ground. Now that she had her hands on the bitch she wanted to see Simone bleed. This would be a warning to anyone who dared to do the same, a reminder that the man she was fighting for was off limits.

Jackson was hers.

The words “I’ll kill you” didn’t come out right. Instead her vocalizations echoed as snarls in her ears. She didn’t stop, using the hands wrapped around Simone’s throat to drive the woman’s head into the concrete. The rusty scent of blood filled her nose, making her hungry for more. She wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left of the bitch’s head or face.

An arm snaked around her midsection to pull her away. She fought the intruder, knowing she wasn’t done yet, thrashing like a mad thing. Her grip loosened when the arm gave a firm tug and broke her hold on Simone. She screamed when she was lifted into the air and forced away from her prey.

“Stop,” Jackson demanded, the word a harsh reprimand in her ear.

His voice was a powerful thing, washing over her like a balm, calming the raging beast inside. She stopped struggling when she looked down and saw she’d clawed his arm, drawing blood. She fought for breath, a level of sanity returning, her memories becoming muddled. Two men were helping Simone to her feet, inspecting the back of her head. As the red covering her vision faded, she realized she’d just instigated her very first fight.

Holy shit.

She had never been physical or violent. That was Rachel’s arena. But the mere thought of another woman touching Jackson had shattered her control, turning her into someone she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t believe she was responsible for Simone’s busted mouth. A steady stream of red trickled from a split in the woman’s upper lip.

One of the men assisting the female looked at her. Like Andy, he seemed to recognize something important about her. Giving Jackson an odd look Chloe couldn’t decipher, he said, “It appears you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Not to you,” Jackson replied, his growl sending vibrations along her spine. “Take your daughter and leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

The man who hadn’t spoken swept Simone into his arms. He walked to a large SUV and sat her in the backseat. The other man followed suit, waiting until everyone was safely inside the vehicle before he climbed in. He glanced back before he closed the door, his eyes a bright shade of yellow. The vehicle drove from the back lot. Red taillights flared as it disappeared around the corner of the building.

Jackson didn’t release her, standing in the same spot.

“If Gavin doesn’t know about your mate yet,” Declan said from behind them, “he will before the night’s over.”

Jackson spun around and faced his Beta. To her utter mortification, Chloe discovered the entire pack had somehow managed to overcome their Alpha’s order. No doubt they’d seen everything that had transpired between her and Simone. They studied her with a combination of disapproval, concern and what she thought was a hint of pride.

“Wade isn’t stupid,” Jackson grumbled and lowered her to her feet. “He noticed the resemblance. I could tell by the way he looked at her.” Chloe gasped when Jackson yanked her around, the fingers he wrapped around her chin forcing her to look into his face. “We’re going to have to talk about that temper of yours, baby. You’ve just bitten off more than you can chew.”

Anger returned but thankfully she didn’t feel homicidal. She met Jackson’s gaze, uncaring that his irises had started to glow.

“Don’t give me that crap. I am not something you can command at will. Stop handling me with kiddie gloves. I don’t like bull, so stop trying to sell me shit.”

Jackson’s jaw clenched but he remained silent.

“Oh man,” Declan laughed. “I knew I liked her.”

“It’s not funny.” Shane joined the conversation, shouldering around the people in his path. “Everyone will know our pack has a new Lupa who happens to be a Halfling. If the shit hits the fan she’ll wish she’d kept control of her beast.”

Oh no he didn’t.

“She,” Chloe said, glaring at Shane, “is standing right here. If you have something to say to me, say it.”

“He’s not insulting you,” Elsie offered softly, moving so Chloe could see her clearly. “He’s just stating fact. If the bitches from other packs find out you’re half-human, they can challenge you for the position of Lupa. It’s law.”

That was news she certainly didn’t expect. “Challenge me?”

“To the death,” Shane clarified. “It’s how the bloodlines remain strong.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Declan glanced at Shane and rolled his eyes. “You just shitkicked Simone Wilson. Females talk, so they’ll know you’re not a puff cake. Challenges only happen when a female thinks she can win a fight to the death. You’re a wildcard. They’ll steer clear.”

“You’d better hope they do,” Shane muttered and dry washed his face with his hand. “Otherwise we’ll all be neck deep in the shit.”

“How do you figure?” Declan asked.

Slowly Shane lowered his hand and looked at her. Dread felt like an iron weight in her stomach. The worry in the male’s eyes brought the situation into painful focus. If the emotion had come from Declan or Clint she might have blown it off. But not from Shane. She didn’t know him, but she realized he wasn’t one to play games. It didn’t help that Jackson still hadn’t spoken, allowing his pack to impart the ugly truth.

“Jackson—our Alpha—won’t stand by and let anyone kill his female. That little smackdown of yours just put all our asses on the line. If it comes down to a challenge, you won’t face the firing squad alone.” Shane made sure their gazes met, as though he wanted his words to hit their mark. “We’re all going to bleed.”

Chapter Nine

Jackson climbed out of his car and walked around to the passenger side to face his female. She’d been quiet after her altercation with Simone—staring out the window as they drove to the cabin—the impact of Shane’s revelation no doubt sinking in. He’d been so angry that she’d put herself in harm’s way he’d been unable to discuss what had happened. Instead he waited, hoping his temper would die down.

It was so hard not to touch her, his desire rising along with the moon. God help him, he wanted to bust her sweet little ass and fuck her so bad his palms itched and his dick throbbed.

A part of him knew it wasn’t her fault. He’d heard her snarls, realized her wolf had taken control, but it didn’t ice his temper. She could have been seriously hurt. Thankfully Simone was about as threatening as a fucking Chihuahua—all bark and no bite. Otherwise he would have had to intervene, and it went against the rules for a male to break up a fight between females.

Chloe glanced at him, worrying at her lower lip and fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. Good. She should be nervous. He’d decided on the ride over that the best way to deal with the problem was to show her beast who was boss. All he had to do was to bring the animal to the surface. Once it appeared he’d show his mate who was in charge.

Chloe hesitated when he opened the door and gave her a nudge. “Jackson…”

He didn’t respond, building the tension. If he wanted the wolf to heed the call of the moon he needed to keep his mate on the edge. When he pressed his hand into the small of her back she took the hint, stepping inside. He closed the door behind them and slid the deadbolt into place. His cock refused to soften, straining against his zipper, tenting his jeans.

Fuck.

He didn’t want to guide her on the right path at that moment. He wanted to take her on the bed with the curtains parted wide, allowing the white rays from the moon to cover their bodies. The wolf inside him roared in his head, searching for Chloe’s scent.

Despite her anxiousness, he knew she felt the effects of the moon. The musky and alluring scent of her pussy had teased and taunted him for hours. If he reached into her pants and pushed aside her panties he knew she’d be hot and slick, ready for whatever he wanted to give her.

“Go to the bedroom, remove your clothes and wait for me,” he growled, trying to maintain his composure.

Chloe froze, her back to him. Her shoulders tensed and he watched as she slowly turned to face him. A small light had entered her eyes, making her irises brighten.

“You’re not spanking me,” she replied with a throaty growl of her own.

“No?” he asked, studying her, angling his head to the side. He goaded her intentionally, knowing what he had to do. Chloe’s irises changed from the pupil outward, shifting color, her wolf responding to her distress. Heightened emotion always brought the animal from the cage.

Always.

“No.”

He moved, snagging her around the waist. Even though she fought, it wasn’t hard to carry her to the couch. He took a seat in the middle, turning her so her ass was exactly where it needed to be. Before she could say a word he gave her the first lick, using the flat of his palm to deliver a hearty slap to her right cheek.

“It’s time you learned your place, mate.”

He sounded a helluva lot calmer than he felt. This was about teaching Chloe something important but he wanted her so bad his dick was hard enough to hammer nails. When he finally went at her she’d be lucky if she could walk straight the following day.

“Let go,” she snarled, swinging her arms and legs.

“Make me.”

She tried, fighting to get free, screaming when he continued busting her perfectly rounded bottom. He steadily increased the force of the blows, making sure each swat landed on the softness of her ass. It didn’t take long, perhaps a half-dozen smacks, before he felt her wolf. He wasn’t surprised at how powerful her beast was. Since she’d broken free of his earlier command and, in turn, broken the hold he had over the pack, he knew she was going to be a handful.

“There you are.” He gave her another hard slap. “Bring it, little wolf. I’m waiting for you.”

“I’m going to kick your ass!”

He clucked his tongue, bringing his hand down, his cock jerking when his palm made contact. He couldn’t wait to yank off her clothing and see how red her ass was. Even now her pussy was creaming. He could smell it—almost taste it. She might not think she liked being in a submissive position but her tiny gasps and the way she clutched at the sofa betrayed her.

As soon as she stopped fighting he brought his hand down on her ass. He followed the seam until he came to her cunt. He palmed the mound, applying pressure. She cried out and pushed against him, shifting her hips up and down. Knowing the time had come, he released her and wrapped his fingers in her hair. He forced her head around so their eyes met.

“You will never disregard my orders again, Chloe.”

Green became almost neon, the vividness of her eyes nearly blinding. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

Son of a bitch.

Letting go of her hair, he resumed the spanking he’d started, the blows much harder than before. She howled—the sound one of pleasure and fury—and tried to bring her knees up to slide off the furniture. He didn’t allow it, using his free hand to keep her where she was.

If Chloe’s wolf didn’t relent she’d be a danger to the entire pack. Wolves couldn’t think without the influence of their human half. They were too wild, their behaviors unstable. The beast had to accept his authority and embrace him as her superior. He hoped like hell this would work, bringing the wolf to the forefront so Chloe could communicate with the creature inside her. Without that all-important connection the woman and animal would be at odds with who and what they were.

“Reach deep down, Chloe,” he instructed, sounding as livid and frustrated as she did. “You control your beast. It doesn’t control you.”

At first he didn’t think she’d heard. She screamed and fought, clawing at his thigh. He considered taking her into the bedroom and tying her squirming ass to the bed so she couldn’t hurt herself. If he wasn’t careful she might pull a joint out of place or actually manage to break free.

Then—subtly—he felt the shift.

Trembling started in her shoulders, wound down her back and traveled to her legs. Her hands opened and closed as though she was attempting to bring out her claws. He softened the slaps, watching as her nails dug into the giving flesh of her palm, leaving behind deep red crescents. She growled, a low steady sound that carried through the room, and stopped moving.

“That’s it. Don’t back down. Show the wolf its place.”

Chloe’s coat had risen to her mid-back as he’d spanked her, allowing him to slide his hand from her ass to the base of her spine. He reached out with his wolf, sensing the uncertain connection between his mate and her other half. It was the perfect time to have them recognize each other prior to her first shift.

“Your wolf listens to you and you listen to me. Take control. Show it who’s stronger. Don’t take no for an answer.”

Another snarl tore from her throat, but Chloe wasn’t fighting him.

Not anymore.

“Back off,” Chloe barked, voice trembling. Taking a deep breath, she repeated herself, more calmly this time. “Back off.”

While she hadn’t shifted and hunted with the pack, his wolf felt his mate’s despair. She was afraid she wouldn’t have the strength to fight her feral side. The power of the beast was more than she bargained for, so much more dangerous than she fathomed. Fortunately that fear served a purpose, driving her to work harder, to oppose the force that wanted to take over.

They fought—woman versus wolf—caught in the same body but retaining their individuality.

A part of him ached for his mate, knowing the battle she fought wasn’t easy. Being born into a pack, he’d had plenty of time to come to terms with his nature. The anger he’d tried to bury returned, his fury directed at the man who’d left Chloe to find her own way before she’d even been born. She never should have had to face things like this, experiencing a moon heat at the same time she came into her wolf.

When I see the bastard, I’m breaking his goddamn face.

A low whimper passed her lips. She went soft against him and he pulled Chloe to his chest. Her entire body shook, her teeth rattling. Her chest heaved as she panted for air. Cupping a hand under her chin, he lifted her head and carefully pushed sweaty strands of hair from her face. She looked dazed, her brows slanted together, but her eyes didn’t carry a trace of wolf.

That’s my girl.

“It’s there. Inside m-me,” she stammered and started to rock, visibly in shock. “I knew it was but I thought it would be different. Before I couldn’t remember things. Everything was blurry or blacked out. Now I do. I remember it all.”

Strike that. When I see Gavin I’m breaking his entire fucking body.

“You’re connected now.” He glided his knuckles across her cheek. “There won’t be any more back and forth. You’re two parts of one whole.”

“It doesn’t seem possible. I feel so different.”

“Nothing’s changed.” Brushing his thumb across her lips, he murmured, “You’re in control. Things’ll be different. You’ll see.”

“I can’t believe I wanted to hurt Gramps.” She dipped her head and buried her face in his neck. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Promise you won’t let me.”

Damn it.

He’d known her memories were jagged, but he’d thought she had access to slivers of them. Most had difficulty recalling certain events, especially during their first shift, but even then most retained a portion of what transpired when the wolf took control.

“If you don’t want to hurt anyone, you have to rely on me to take care of you.” And he would take care of her, even if it killed him. “That’s the duty of an Alpha to see to those who trust him. Especially when it comes his mate. Surrender control. Put yourself in my keeping. I’ll never give you a reason to regret it.”

“Surrender control?” She stiffened against him. “I thought mating was like a marriage. That a man and wife are considered equal.”

He laughed against her hair, unable to prevent his response to the ballsy little armful who had just been through hell but met him head-on. “I thought human females vowed to honor and obey their husbands.”

“You must be old.” He was grateful she didn’t sound as shaky, as though she was finally accepting the finality of her situation. “Women stopped promising that a long time ago.”

“To hell with other women. The only female I’m concerned about is right here in my arms.” As much as he loved her nestled against him, what he wanted to say was best done looking her in the eye. He pulled away, gazing at her flushed face. “What do you want, Chloe girl?”

“You,” she answered without pause, blonde ringlets cascading around her shoulders. “So much it hurts.”

Possessiveness and pride slithered through him. “We can’t have that.”

He rose in a fluid motion, bringing her with him, keeping her against his chest with an arm beneath her back and thighs. Lowering his head, he breathed into the delicate shell of her ear.

“And you have me. Whether you want to or not. I’m all yours.”

I’m all yours.

Those three tiny words meant so much.

When she’d fought the raging animal inside her she’d been terrified she wouldn’t come out on top. The thing was harsh, driven by instinct. It thought in bursts, seeing things only as they pertained to the moment, living and breathing for each second. Now she understood why she’d attacked Simone. The wolf had simply reacted, taking control because it had been allowed to.

That wouldn’t happen again.

She’d confronted the voracious entity, forced it down and took charge. The thought of hurting anyone in the grips of a wolf’s rage terrified her. Remembering how angry the wolf had been when Gramps had threatened Jackson—how ready she was to go for his throat—put things into perspective. What had happened wasn’t something she asked for but it was up to her to deal with it. As frightening as the prospect might be, she had to admit it was also exciting. If she was going to start a new life she had to hit the ground running and face things on her terms.

Beginning now.

Sliding her fingers into the hair at Jackson’s neck, she tugged him down, lifting herself so their mouths met. He groaned into her lips, taking her next breath as his, their tongues touching as need, want and desire took hold. The heat that had rushed through her body returned, thundering through her system, making it hard to breathe.

“I’m sore where you spanked me.” She gently raked her nails along his neck, smiling when he shuddered. “You should kiss it and make it better.”

“Would you like that?”

“Mmm hmm.”

He growled, digging his fingers into the padded area above her hip, holding her in place. “Then I’m going to kiss you all over. I want to watch you melt.”

If a person were capable of melting, she was certain she would have. The way he spoke to her—the way he looked at her—made her insides quiver and her heart skip a beat. There were so many things she could have said or done in that moment but one need drove her. Fire poured through her veins, the potent call of the moon whispering in her ear. A shiver shot down her spine, the memories of the night before rushing back, blinding in their intensity.

Driven by an escalating impulse, she released his neck and pushed away, sliding down his body. When her feet hit the ground she shrugged her shoulders, allowing her coat to fall to the ground as she slowly sank to her knees. She didn’t look away, meeting Jackson’s gaze as she peppered kisses down his chest. Lust hit her like a blowtorch to the stomach. She’d do anything and be anything he wanted if he continued staring at her exactly like that.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he rasped, twining his fingers in her hair. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Actually, she did. If his expression hadn’t given him away, his harsh inhalations and the tremor that shot through his body were all the evidence she needed. Bold and eager, she nipped at his abdomen, holding back a grin when she felt his muscles flex through his shirt. A surge of power flowed over her.

She did this to him. In this position he was at her mercy.

His grip on her hair intensified, pulling the strands taut. The sharp sting along her scalp sent a spasm through her pussy, drenching her panties.

“That’s right. Show me what you like. Get me ready. I love the way you smell when you’re turned-on. It gets me so hard I want to flip you over and fuck you senseless.”

She worked his jeans open and his hard, swollen cock sprang free. He growled when she wound her fingers around the base, squeezed, and a bead of pre-cum escaped. Leaning forward, she flicked her tongue over the tip, collecting the crystalline drop. His taste burst on her tongue, salty and bitter. His groan drove her onward. She rotated her tongue along the crown, lapping at the heated flesh that pulsed against her palm.

“Take it,” he snarled, thrusting his hips, trying to breach her lips. “Take it all.”

He was too thick and long to take completely, the tip lodging in the back of her throat despite the hand at the root. She relaxed the muscles in her throat, breathing through her nose. Recalling his earlier instruction, she swallowed when her gag reflex kicked in.

“Shit,” Jackson grated through clenched teeth. He brought a hand down and pulled her fingers from the base of his erection. Then he wrapped both of his hands in her hair. “Stay just like that. I want to take those pretty lips for a ride.”

Then he moved, making shallow passes. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, keeping her tongue flush against the base, enhancing his pleasure. Their eyes met, gazes locking. The eroticism of the act made her tremble, the walls of her pussy clasping with each pass.

“More,” he demanded, thrusting harder. “I want you to swallow me down, baby. Then it’s your turn. I’m going to lick you up like candy, Chloe.”

Talk about the ultimate incentive.

She doubled her efforts, sucking until her jaws ached. More of his semen coated her tongue, giving her another taste of the man she couldn’t get enough of. She wanted to give him this because she wanted it too. The desire to feel him come, to watch the ecstasy on his face she was responsible for. She moaned when he shifted his legs and his thigh caressed her breast, making the nipple pucker.

Her scalp burned as his hands formed into fists in her hair. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, pistoning his hips. “That’s it, baby. Don’t stop. Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Moaning harder, she took the hard thrusts to her face, aware he was nearing climax. She watched as his jaw tensed and his brows came together. He looked harsh and wild, his hair loose at his shoulders, a few random pieces caught in the stubble along his chin. His irises were fully gold now, his dark, dilated pupils prominent.

God he was beautiful. And more importantly, he was hers. His words returned to her as a hot flow of semen flowed into her mouth.

I’m all yours.

He threw his head back with a muffled “fuck” and thrust the head of his cock into her throat. She swallowed each jet of the hot, salty fluid, drinking him down, entranced by the way his body shook and his muscles rippled.

Once the last spasm had passed his fingers loosened in her hair and he lowered his head. “I’m the luckiest fucking bastard in the world,” he breathed, chest heaving. “It’s my turn.”

She yelped when he yanked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. His hand drifted up her thigh, hovered between her legs for a moment and stopped on the curve of her ass. Her hair swept over her face, making it difficult to see. She made out random patches of the floor as he carried her up the stairs to the loft.

When he tossed her on the bed the first thing she noticed were the rays of the moon. The curtains were pulled back, allowing the beams to shine through. They seemed to warm her skin, blanketing her in a glow of radiant white. Jackson started removing his clothing, studying her, his eyes luminous in the darkness of the room. When he finally made it to his pants and stripped them away she saw his cock was hard and stiff, reaching toward his bellybutton.

He followed her gaze, bringing his hand to his straining erection. He stroked from the base to the tip, stopping when his fingers surrounded the head.

“You want this, don’t you?”

She shouldn’t have been turned on by his smug grin but she was. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to give it to you.” He let go of his shaft, a devious gleam in his eyes. “Right now I want you to lie back, close your eyes and spread those pretty legs for me.”

Warmth erupted in her cheeks but she plopped back on the freshly changed linens, aware of the clothing covering her body. Her bra felt abrasive, her panties uncomfortable. She squirmed when he tugged off her shoes and socks, biting her lip when he finally got to work on her jeans. He yanked them down her legs, taking her panties along for the ride. Restless, she brought her hands to her sweater and heaved it and her camisole over her head.

“Impatient, are we?” Jackson chuckled. “Ditch the bra, baby. I want to watch you play with your nipples while I go down on you.”

Oh God.

Her fingers trembled as she accomplished the task, pulling the garment away from her torso. Brisk winter air cascaded over her skin, cooling the flush that swept over her.

Jackson climbed onto the mattress, coming closer, and slid his hands under her ass. She made room for him, parting her thighs, shaking in anticipation. He rubbed his cheek along one thigh, then the other. A tremor shot down her spine when his heated breath made contact with the wet folds of her sex. She clawed at the comforter and arched her back, bringing his mouth and her pussy together.

A low growl penetrated her ears but she couldn’t focus on that. All she could think about was the delicious, wet tongue that penetrated her vaginal lips, parting her slit in a firm, decisive lap. The wolf made her presence known then, clamoring for a place in line. Instead of denying the beast she let a portion of it slither beneath her skin. Sensations amplified, the moon becoming far more. The thing was like an entity, its call a hum that buzzed in her head.

“Touch yourself, Chloe.”

Bringing her hands up, she flicked her nipples with her fingers, mewling at how good it felt. The pleasure intensified when he slid two fingers inside her, moving them in and out, finding the sweet spot within her. She jerked when he stroked the sensitive inner tissue, waiting for him to do it again.

“That’s right,” Jackson whispered. “Accept who you are. Embrace it. The two of us were made for each other. See how good it can be?”

Before she could respond his lips surrounded her clit. One well-placed flick of his tongue combined with the hard press of his fingers and she shattered.

Her cry was a combination of a snarl and scream, ripping from her throat, so loud it drowned out the sound of Jackson lapping at her pussy. The tips of her fingers burned, her gums tingling, the wolf howling in her head. Still the glorious grip of climax continued, wave after wave of fire rushing from her clit, cascading through her abdomen and limbs. Jackson’s tongue gentled when the last shudders passed, sliding over her labia in a light caress as he pulled his fingers from her moist depths.

She reached for him as he moved up her body, raking her fingers over his muscular shoulders. He took his time, peppering kisses along her navel, nipples and collarbone. Placing his hands on either side of her body, he lifted his weight from her. She almost argued about birth control, fearful of what would happen if Jackson had lied about his uncanny senses, but decided against it. He’d asked for her trust and she was going to give it to him.

His cock pressed against the mouth of her sex and he entered her, advancing slowly. He peered down, watching as he joined their bodies.

“Perfect,” he murmured and sank to the hilt, lodging his cock within her. Then he raised his head, gazing at her. “This time we’re taking things nice and slow.”

He rewarded her whimper of agreement with a soft kiss, his lips hovering over hers. He retreated and returned, doing as he promised, taking her with care. She gasped into his mouth as he thrust in and out, leaving her only to return once again, lifting her hips. The light from the moon covered his broad shoulders, creating a halo around his body.

She closed her eyes, wanting to create a snapshot in her mind she would always remember. His lips brushed over her closed lids and feathered over her lashes. The sweetness of the act—something so simple yet so profound—took the moment beyond sex.

Drawing him close, she placed her nose to his chest and breathed him in.

He might have said he was all hers but in that moment he owned her.

Mind, body and soul.

Chapter Ten

A soft knock roused Jackson from a deep slumber. He opened his eyes, focusing on the ceiling. Chloe stirred, moaning softly into his chest. She shifted closer to his side. Contentedness swept over him. His female not only met his expectations, she exceeded them. Tonight they’d officially announce their mating. Everyone would know she belonged to him. He’d protect, watch over and love her for the rest of his life.

The soft rapping came again—from the front door.

With a muffled curse he moved away from his mate, taking care to rest her head on the pillows. As he hoped, she didn’t wake. Her chest rose and fell, a quiet sigh passing her lips. He climbed off the bed, retrieved his jeans and jerked them on. He didn’t bother with his shirt, shoes or socks. Only one person knew where he was and had the balls to interrupt him this early in the morning.

Whatever Declan had to say had better be fucking important.

He descended the stairs, moving as quietly as possible, and strode to the door. As he expected, Declan was waiting for him on the other side. What he didn’t anticipate was how haggard the Beta appeared. He hadn’t showered or shaved, wearing the same clothing from the evening before. His hair was mussed and his T-shirt was wrinkled. There was a glimmer in his eyes that Jackson couldn’t put his finger on.

“We need to talk,” Declan said and started to walk inside.

Jackson stopped the man with a hand on his chest. “Outside. Chloe’s resting.”

Instead of bestowing a smart remark or rebuff, Declan pivoted and returned to the porch. Jackson frowned, wondering what had the Beta riled up. Certainly his mating had shaken things up but thus far Declan had taken everything in stride. Something must have happened to make him like this. In fact, Jackson wouldn’t recall a time that his Beta had seemed so stressed.

Shaking off the chilly morning air as he closed the door, Jackson asked, “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Fucking fate, that’s what,” Declan responded, though he sounded tired not angry. Looking Jackson in the eye, he explained, “Apparently I’m mated to a human—your mate’s fucking best friend.”

His ears had to be deceiving him. Declan did not just say he was mated to Chloe’s childhood friend. The idea alone screamed clusterfuck of epic proportions.

“Say again?”

The Beta’s eyes turned gold. “You heard me.”

“You met a couple of days ago and you didn’t mention anything about it.” As soon as Jackson spoke, he realized Declan hadn’t said anything either way. Perhaps he had known but hadn’t felt inclined to share. “Why’s that?”

“Because I didn’t think it was possible,” Declan grumbled. “I was wrong.”

The vague response created more questions than answers. “Care to explain?”

“I was attracted to the female but I assumed there was nothing more to it. Since I haven’t exactly had time to get laid, I blew it off as pent-up steam. We know how rare it is for a wolf to mate with a human.”

More than rare. The occurrence was almost unheard of. It was the primary reason Jackson hadn’t considered Chloe might be part human before they met in the flesh. Mating with humans came with all sorts of problems.

“Are you certain?”

“I’m positive. We paid each other a visit in our dreams last night.”

Well hell. No wonder Declan looked like shit. Dreamsharing could be intense, especially the first time. Jackson summoned up the memory of the female who’d looked like she wanted to bust his balls when Chloe had introduced them.

“You’re sure it’s Rachel?”

“I’m sure.” Declan ran his fingers through his hair. “Since we’ve met and a connection was established, I was able to see her face.”

“Did she know the dream was being shared?” Chloe hadn’t had time to discuss important details about their mating—at least he didn’t think she had—with her friend. “Do you think she understands what it means?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t think about discussing the topic with her? Jesus, Declan. Tell me you didn’t let your dick cloud your judgment. The first experience with your female can make or break a mating. If you started things off on the wrong foot, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the Beta snarled, flashing his pointed canines. “She wouldn’t let me get anywhere near her, since you’re so goddamn curious. Each time I got close she’d skip to another place in her mind. It was like she could change her dreams at will. I spent the majority of the night trying to keep up.” Declan lowered his hand, shaking his head. “I need your permission to initiate her into the pack.”

“Shit.”

If he gave his blessing as Alpha, Declan would have full rights to Rachel. No one could interfere—including Chloe. His female would kill him if he allowed a werewolf male to stake a claim to and change her friend—especially if Rachel wasn’t given a choice. It wasn’t unheard of for a male to bite a woman when she denied a mating bond. Once his saliva entered her bloodstream, the change would start. The connection a human made with their wolven half was absolute.

Even if Rachel hated Declan, the wolf inside her wouldn’t turn him away.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” It wasn’t the best way to establish a mating. If his Beta wasn’t careful he could end up with a mate who hated him. “Have you considered doing this the human way?”

Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

Answering questions with questions always annoyed him but he was willing to let his pack mate slide. “Chloe won’t be happy.”

Declan snorted. “Neither will Just Rachel. I shouldn’t have given you shit about having your hands full with your mate.”

“Just Rachel?”

“Long story. Don’t worry about it.” Declan lifted his shoulders, standing straight. “Do I have your permission? I can proceed without it, but I’d rather not.”

There was the bitch of it. Declan could proceed without asking. If necessary he could leave the pack, claim and change his female and spread the word that he was searching for a place to call home. The Beta had a solid reputation as both a man and a wolf. He wouldn’t have a problem finding another pack. Human police wouldn’t get involved, not in matters like these. It was too dangerous—too personal. Although they liked to believe they were in control, when it came to pack matters they stayed the fuck out of Dodge.

“I’ll agree, but there are conditions.” After Declan nodded Jackson said, “You’ll need to take a leave of absence during Rachel’s first moon. I don’t want to fight with my mate about what you’ve done or what it means for her friend. I expect our involvement to be minimal.”

Declan considered the words and slowly nodded. “What else?”

“You need to prepare a pack member to take your place while you’re gone.”

“I can do that.”

Releasing a deep breath, Jackson finished, “And I’d like to ask that you try to do this properly, without changing her. Give Rachel a chance to accept you as she is. I owe Chloe that much.”

“How long?”

“A month.”

If Rachel didn’t accept his advances within a month, Declan’s bite to get the process started would ensure she had thirty days to deal with the changes in her body before her first full moon. He hoped to hell that it didn’t come down to that. Chloe would be pissed, Rachel would be out for blood and Jackson would be smack dab in the fucking middle.

“Starting today?” Declan clarified.

Time to put a nail in the coffin. “Starting today.”

“Done.”

Declan extended his hand and Jackson accepted it.

A firm shake sealed the deal.

There was no going back.

Normally Jackson wouldn’t have felt bad about a human who found him or herself mated to a werewolf. Circumstances had changed his reasoning. Rachel—from what he gathered—had a few issues to sort through. The woman hadn’t been friendly, bordering on hostile. Chloe had done her best to alleviate the tension but he’d known Rachel had complied only to appease her friend, not because she’d wanted to.

Jackson let go and took a step back. “Don’t breathe a word of this to the pack. When you arrange a replacement, you can say you’re doing some work out of state. No one needs details. If Chloe finds out what you’re up to she’ll tell Rachel. I won’t come between them.”

“I’ll talk to Shane after the hunt.”

Shane? Now that was news.

Declan was friendly with the newest member of the pack but he had never seemed overly fond of Jackson’s choice to take Shane into their fold. Jackson had known Shane was powerful enough to be a Beta or Alpha. Why he hadn’t chosen that path was anyone’s guess. The male didn’t like to discuss his past. Despite that, Jackson wanted to give the rogue a chance. Anyone who went from being alone to searching for a pack couldn’t be all bad.

“Shane’s a solid choice. He’s not likely to talk about what’s going on. The last thing we need in the pack is gossip.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

The door cracked open and Chloe peeked outside. She’d thrown on his T-shirt. Her hair was tangled, her cheeks rosy from sleep. When she saw Declan her face turned a tempting shade of red.

“I thought I heard voices,” she explained in a rush, keeping the door from revealing too much of her body. “I’ll go back inside and let you two talk.”

Declan gave her a sideways grin. “We’re done. He’s all yours.”

Jackson wanted to laugh when her cheeks became redder. She probably thought Declan knew what he’d said to her the night before. Standing so Declan’s view of Chloe was obstructed, Jackson said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, you will.”

Declan swept down the porch, retrieved a small satchel he’d placed on the bottom step and started walking down the driveway. Jackson knew the Beta would find a safe spot, shuck the clothes and return to from where he’d come from. Most werewolves turned to their beast when they needed to unwind. Declan was no different. Hopefully the shift and a hard run would clear his head and put things in perspective. He had a feeling Rachel would have Declan’s ass if he came at her looking like a shaggy, sleep-deprived hobbit.

Son of a bitch.

Declan had come right up to his porch and Jackson hadn’t known his pack mate was anywhere nearby until he’d heard the knock at the door. He’d let his guard slip, endangering his mate. After tonight he’d have to amp up security. His home had a reliable alarm system. The cabin needed one too.

And he wouldn’t keep the location secret any longer.

He and the pack were Chloe’s first line of defense. They had to know where to find her if he expected them to protect her with their lives.

Whipping around, he came chest to chest with his female. She looked delectable in the morning, all soft and sweet. He’d woken her through the night to take her again and again, needing the closeness, knowing the following night they’d cement their union. She hadn’t been shy or tentative, meeting his desire with a passion of her own.

“What did he want?” she asked, her lips slightly swollen from his kisses.

He didn’t want to lie but he couldn’t be entirely honest either. “Pack business. He’ll meet us later tonight.”

She moved aside and opened the door when he stepped forward. He breezed past the threshold, aware of the lingering scent of sex wafting through the cabin. Despite knowing he couldn’t share the truth with his mate, he felt a wrenching sense of guilt. Their mating wasn’t what it should have been. They’d been through enough without adding Declan and Rachel to mix. He’d hoped that after tonight his problems would be solved.

You can give up that hope. No more problems? That would be too fucking easy.

Resolute and unable to do anything else, he took his mate’s hand and guided her to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Like it or not, once Chloe learned what was what, she’d grind his balls into guacamole.

Chloe plopped onto the seat Jackson guided her to, frowning when he turned away without saying a word. Something was bothering him but he wasn’t spilling the beans. She didn’t want to push but she didn’t like being on the outside looking in either. They’d formed a bond the night before, her wolf merging with his. She wasn’t going to let him pull away from her when she needed him most.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Not particularly,” he replied and reached for a pan hanging from a rack bolted to the ceiling. “If at all possible I’d like to enjoy the morning.” After he had the object in hand, he glanced at her. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You have my undivided attention.”

“All right.” The redirection actually worked for her. There were a lot of things she wanted to know. She could inquire about Declan’s visit later. “How about you tell me how you’re going to convince Gramps to come to the hunt? You’ll be lucky to get him off his property. He doesn’t like to travel.”

“Is that so?” Jackson turned on the stove and walked to the fridge.

“He’s handy with guns for a reason,” she murmured.

Jackson lifted his head over the door and stared at her, a question in his gaze. She took her time responding, aware it would make her family sound like hermits.

“Grams tends a garden and cans for the winter. Gramps hunts so we have meat to freeze. They’ll go into town to get the things we need, but it’s rare. After Mom died they swore they wouldn’t interact with anyone outside of the family unless it was absolutely necessary. Aside from Rachel, we didn’t have many visitors.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded, laughing at his shock. “As a heart attack.”

“But they let you attend public school,” he clarified, cautious as he broached the subject. “They sent you to college.”

“They did, but only under the agreement that if anything went wrong I’d consent to being home-schooled. One slip and my entire life would change. As you can probably imagine, if I had a bad day I knew not to tell them about it.”

“You were just a kid.” He looked and sounded pissed off. “Who did you talk to? Where did you go when you needed advice?”

“Rachel,” she answered simply. “She stayed at our house most of the time. After we met I always had someone to talk to.”

“What about her family?”

Uneasiness made Chloe backpedal. Talking about her life was one thing. Rachel’s toxic family history was off-limits. “What about them?”

“If you spent that much time with their daughter, weren’t they weren’t close to your grandparents?”

Oh crud. Talk about awkward.

After Rachel’s father had died her mother had gone on a bender that turned into a lifestyle. Mrs. Gentry wasn’t close to anyone, including her daughter. She preferred to frequent Jasper’s Lounge, taking advantage of happy hour, free drinks and nameless one-night stands.

“Not really,” she responded carefully. “Rachel’s dad passed away when we were in elementary school. Her mom worked a lot.”

Jackson wasn’t going to drop the subject. He closed refrigerator and reclined against counter. “What kind of work?”

Think, think, think.

Rachel would kill her if she told Jackson the truth.

“This and that.” She turned her head, looking toward the living room, gazing at the window.

Cindy Gentry was a horrible woman who used everyone in her life—including her child—to get ahead. Once the social security checks started rolling in for Rachel after her father’s loss, Cindy had taken it as a sign she didn’t need to work unless she wanted to. The wretched woman stayed out most nights, drinking away her daughter’s money. Her best friend—heartbroken over her father and devastated by the actions of her mother—had been raising herself since the tender age of nine.

“Chloe?”

Steeling herself, she returned her attention to Jackson. “Yeah?”

For a split-second she worried he was going to push the issue.

“Never mind,” he said softly. “Let’s get you some food.” He pushed away from the counter and opened the fridge. “I thought we’d drive over to speak with your grandfather this morning. I know he’ll be relieved to see you, and it’s probably best to talk to him face-to-face.”

“So you can convince him to tag along tonight?”

“Convincing won’t be necessary.”

He obviously didn’t know her grandfather as well as he thought. “Oh really? Do you think you can waltz in, tell him what you want and he’ll be happy to help?”

“He’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. Besides,” Jackson glanced at her over the door, “I’m pretty sure he knows what’s coming. Before you joined us in the office I asked Fletcher what he’d do if he ever saw your father again.”

Gramps would kill the asshole. “I’m guessing it wasn’t good.”

“It works for me.” Jackson shrugged, the muscles in his arms bunching as they flexed. “If he wants to take another shot at Gavin, I’m all for it.”

Seconds passed as she waited for him to indicate he was joking. He didn’t crack a smile, gazing in her direction, his attention riveted to her face.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he tossed her words back at her with a playful grin.

“What if he’s hurt? He can’t stand up to a group of werewolves!”

“Chloe.” Jackson’s good humor receded. “Your grandfather has every right to address the male who impregnated his daughter and left her and his unborn child. It doesn’t matter that he’s human. He’s entitled to justice. What Gavin did violates everything wolves value and protect. Our children are the key to our future. When his pack discovers what he did he’ll be lucky if he’s still Alpha.” Obviously trying to calm her, he added, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to unload Fletcher’s weapon before we go.”

“That’s a small amount of comfort.” Knowing Gramps, he’d carry ammo in his pockets.

“Then how’s this? He’ll have the backing of the pack. No one will interfere. They know better.”

“Just like the females won’t interfere when you announce our mating?” She waited for an answer as she met his eyes, staring at him across the distance. The tic in his jaw and brightening of his irises were the only indication he was angry.

“That’s different.”

“I don’t see how.” Danger equaled danger.

“They won’t challenge you because I’m going to tell them what to expect if they win.” His voice deepened but otherwise he appeared completely calm. “Mating me will be the worst mistake any of them will ever make. I’ll make their existence a living hell.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“I’ve found my female.” His gaze swept over her. The grin that appeared on his face created butterflies in her tummy. “I’ll have no other.”

The man was part Neanderthal. Good thing she didn’t want him any other way. “You have a solution for everything, don’t you?”

“It’s part of the job.” Dipping his head, he glanced inside the refrigerator. “Damn it,” he snapped, closing the door and standing to open the freezer. “I knew I should have kept groceries at the cabin. This is fucking pitiful.”

Sliding from her stool, she walked toward him. Knowing he was so focused on her—that he wanted to feed and care for her—was a stark reminder that he’d been through hell the past couple of days. After she’d woken and went into the bathroom, she’d studied the mark on her shoulder—his mark. Not everything was about her and her family, big decisions concerned him too. If Jackson was willing to stand at her grandfather’s side when he faced Gavin, she’d trust him to take care of the aging yet indomitable man.

Speaking of age…

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rose to her tiptoes, resting her head on his shoulder. She took a look into the freezer. There wasn’t much in the way of actual food, just a couple of Hungry-Man dinners.

“How old are you anyway?”

“I suppose I can tell you. It’s too late to trade me in for a newer model.” He shifted a few of the dinners around. “I turned one hundred and fourteen last month.”

One hundred and fourteen? “Bullshit.”

“Nope.” He kept sorting, looking for a pot of gold at the end of a crappy rainbow. “You’re mated to an old man.”

“How about the pizza?” she offered, pointing at the enormous box. “I’ve heard it’s the breakfast of champions.”

“Breakfast of champions, my ass,” Jackson grumbled and pulled out the frozen food. “I should be shot for feeding you shit like this.”

“Don’t worry. You can make it up to me later,” she whispered, tilting her head to skim her lips over his neck, squeezing the arms locked around his midsection.

“Hmm.” He placed his free hand over her interlocked fingers and shuffled to the stove. He let her go only long enough to remove the pizza from the box, turn on the oven and place it inside. After he set the alarm near the dials he disentangled her arms, spun her around and gazed down.

Oh boy.

That look was in his eyes—the one that warned her he wanted to tear off her clothes and do all sorts of naughty things to her body.

“You’re damn right I’ll make it up to you.” One harsh yank forced her against his body. He wrapped an arm around her waist, cupped her ass and lifted her from the ground. “Starting now.”

“Bring it on, old man.”

He crossed to the counter, his movements as smooth as silk. She shivered when her ass made contact with the chilly surface, aware of how thin her panties were against the ceramic. Jackson parted her thighs with his hips, his fingers drifting around her waist. She raised her pelvis and he tugged at the scrap of lace guarding her sex, drawing the material down her legs. He dropped her panties, sank to his knees and pulled her forward. Her buttocks balanced on the edge of the counter, his mouth hovering inches from her mound.

Slowly he peered up, the heat in his stare so palpable it burned. “I’m not coming up until that alarm goes off. First I’ll pleasure you, then I’ll feed you. Afterward we’ll take things upstairs and finish what I started. I’ll show you just how young this old man can be.”

She gasped for air, dragging a greedy breath into her lungs. Then his face descended, his tongue slipped over her hot, slick flesh and she was lost in the most fantastically wicked of ways.

Who needed food?

This was heaven.

* * * * *

Jackson ran a finger along the surface of the water, engrossed in the woman who reclined in the tub, closed her eyes and sighed blissfully with a sated smile on her face. Despite his promise to take Chloe into the bedroom after breakfast, he’d decided to introduce her to his shower instead. He’d taken her against the wall, thrusting into her hard and fast, driven by her soft cries and whimpers. If she’d had any complaints she didn’t voice them, clawing at his back as she came, urging him to achieve his own release.

Afterward he’d drawn a bath, wanting her to relax and unwind.

Now he simply studied her. Enjoying the shared moment.

Her lids cracked open, revealing a flash of her green irises. When she saw him staring she grinned. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he answered truthfully and brought his fingers to her knee.

She laughed, the sound alluring and husky. “Is this where you give me a cheesy line about how I must be tired because I’ve been running through your head all day?”

“Afraid not,” he murmured, stroking her skin.

“Good.” She flicked her hand, sending beads of water over his chest. “I don’t like Velveeta.”

He considered returning her playful splash with one of his own.

Clever little female. “Just one more thing we have in common.”

“Why bother with dairy products when you can have the whole cow?” Her hand drifted over his, her wet skin soft and slippery from the hot water. “I’m assuming those are what you hunt if deer are scarce?”

The slight catch in her voice took him from relaxed to concerned. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” Now was the perfect time to clear the air. “Normally when wolves announce a mating the packs hunt in celebration. In this circumstance, I think it’s best if we do things differently.”

Large emerald orbs focused on him. “Define differently.”

“After we address the packs, we’re leaving.”

“Why?” He could see the confusion and fear in her gaze. “Are you worried something will go wrong?”

“No. I’m not worried about that.” Taking his hand from her knee, he slid closer to the tub. Extending his hand, he cupped her chin. “I want to enjoy the first moon with you and no one else. The night is a beautiful time and I want to show it to you. The pack can keep up pretenses after we leave. Besides, if we’re not alone we can’t play. And I can’t tell you how much I want to play with you, baby.”

Her brows softened, relief evident in her expressive face. “What kind of game?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” His remark was greeted with a scowl. He laughed, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “You’ll like it. I give you my word.”

It didn’t take much to close the distance. His mouth brushed hers, sliding from side to side. She released a soft sigh, her lips parting in welcome. He slid his tongue into the crevice, tasting her sweetness. His body responded despite their earlier interlude. It was clear he couldn’t get enough of this woman. He felt the jerk of his quickly swelling cock, the erratic beating of his heart. He wanted to groan when she pulled away.

“You’d better get dressed. Otherwise I’ll be tempted to take this to the bedroom.” Her voice was just as deep and raspy as his. He felt her tremble at his touch. “As much as I’d like to keep you naked all day, I don’t think Gramps would approve of you visiting his home in your birthday suit.”

“Do you really care what he thinks?” A stupid taunt but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing Chloe relaxed and comfortable in her own skin was something he wanted more of.

“Do you think I’d have asked you to cover that amazing body of yours if I didn’t?” she countered with a smile.

“Maybe you just don’t want other women to see me naked.”

This time when she met his gaze she was deadly serious. “Only as much as you want other men to see me in the buff.”

Damn. When he thought it was safe to push, she pushed right back.

He hadn’t counted on how furious the notion made him. Werewolves didn’t blink at nudity. It was second nature to be comfortable in either skin. But the thought of other males staring at his mate and seeing what she kept hidden beneath her clothes pissed him off.

Good thing we’re enjoying the first moon alone.

“Point taken,” he grumbled, releasing her chin and rising to his feet. “I’ll have to make sure you keep extra clothes handy. I’d hate to kill someone for doing something as innocent as enjoying a breathtaking view.”

Placing her hands on the sides of the tub, she reclined against the back and relaxed. “Just remember it goes both ways. Turnabout is fair play.”

With a shake of his head he turned from the enticing vision resting in the water and went to put on some clothes. She didn’t have to worry about him remembering things went both ways. How could he possibly forget? The message she’d been sending was loud and crystal clear. If he displayed the goods, she’d do the same.

He recognized a threat when he heard one.

I’m so fucked.

When the pack learned Chloe’d had him by the balls, Jackson knew he’d never live it down. The first time he ducked behind a tree or bush to shift forms would be the end of it. Word would spread and his image would take a nosedive. Jackson Donovan—pack Alpha, successful tattoo artist and businessman, whipped into shape by a small armful of female who made the rules and enforced them with an iron fist.

Son of a bitch.

Tonight was going to be hell.

Chapter Eleven

Chloe squirmed in her seat, stuck between her grandfather and her lover, rocking with the motions of the truck Gramps had insisted they drive. Jackson had gotten dressed as she’d requested, accepting the gauntlet she’d tossed. He’d teased her with kisses and lingering touches, on his best behavior when he took her home to speak to her grandfather.

Things had gone better than she’d expected.

Jackson had told her grandfather of his intentions and promised to marry her properly to appease his human in-laws. She’d been shocked by his declaration. Jackson had indicated their mating was a forever deal but having him state it so clearly—without a trace of hesitation—impacted her in the most wonderful way. She wanted to greet each day with him, learn everything there was to know about him and enjoy every single moment of their lives together. There was no doubt, no nervous jitters. She’d finally found what she needed—the man who complemented and completed her.

The day had been amazing. Almost perfect.

Until they went into Gramps’ office and her grandfather relayed his terms for meeting with Gavin Worthington.

The man, without a doubt, was bloodthirsty.

He’d stated his terms clearly, so there was no misunderstanding. He would drive himself to the hunt and return in his truck, thank you very much. No need for an escort. He also wanted to bring his gun. Additional ammo was optional, so long as he had a round in the chamber. He wanted one-on-one time with Mr. Worthington, meaning he didn’t want any interference.

The no-interference part had terrified her.

Gramps—youthful and energetic despite his age—was too old to fight.

He would hate her for saying so, but he couldn’t move as well as he used to. Arthritis in his hips, hands and knees made him slow. There was no way he could avoid a quick swipe to his head or a blow to his body. Jackson had attempted to reassure her, promising he wouldn’t allow anything to happen, but she couldn’t stem the flow of fear that had arisen when she pictured her grandfather addressing the man who’d wronged his child.

“Have faith,” Grams had told her before they departed from the place Chloe had always called home, attempting to calm her fears. “Sometimes, when things like this happen, it’s all you can rely on.”

Sound advice. Too bad she had sensed Grams’ tension and scented the older woman’s fear. Grams hadn’t been entirely honest. It had been strange to learn she could tell the truth from a lie with something as simple as a deep breath. In a way she’d been relieved. As frazzled as Grams had been about things, Gramps had been calm as a cucumber. The only scent she could detect from him was anger. The man who’d raised her since birth had no qualms about meeting Gavin.

Fletcher Bryant was comfortable in his decision.

She’d known part of Grams’ uneasiness stemmed from the inability to attend the hunt or confront Gavin herself. But deep down Chloe also recognized her grandmother was afraid for her husband—the man she’d been with all her life. Their love was as formidable as the mating bond between werewolves. Chloe had always known if her grandmother or grandfather passed away, the other would soon follow. They had been together too long. A separation would destroy them.

A sharp burn radiated up her arm, emanating from the mark on her wrist. She inhaled raggedly and covered the area with her hand, rubbing the itchy skin.

As soon as the sun had started its retreat from the sky eerie sensations had started. At first she’d ignored the tingling burn, focusing on her family and the preparations for the evening. Jackson’s touches had become sympathetic, revealing his awareness of the changes from her mark. As the hours had passed the prickles had gone from annoying to slightly painful.

Jackson leaned in, his shoulder bumping hers.

“Easy,” he murmured, reaching down to place his hand on her leg and giving her a comforting squeeze. “It’s going to be all right. Don’t feed the tension. Fletcher’s edgy enough as is.”

Crap.

Concern about the mark on her wrist evaporated.

There were more important things to consider, such as the fate of the man who’d raised her. Gramps might as well have been driving them to meet his doom. The pack had met them at The Divide and things had gone surprisingly well. Gramps had been cordial when he’d greeted the pack members. He’d even shaken the hands of several of the men. Yet that hadn’t eradicated the forbidding feeling of disaster, as though something terrible was going to happen when they climbed into their vehicles and drove to their destination.

“Chin up, Chloe Bean.” Gramps inserted himself into the conversation. “You don’t have a single thing to be worried about. I’m going to take care of this once and for all.” Sparing her a sideways glance, he said, “It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid. Once done, it’s done.”

Only Gramps would make that kind of comparison.

Any attempt to argue would be futile. The odds of winning a debate with her guardian were slim to none. She’d learned that lesson early in childhood.

Lifting her head, she gazed out the window. They were almost at the hunting grounds—an enormous piece of private property outside Atrum Hill. It was the perfect location to enjoy the call of the wild away from prying or curious eyes.

A bonus for those who shifted forms.

Dangerous for a man who would have to rely on a shotgun for safety.

The instant they drove past the gate to the hunting grounds her senses went on full alert. She straightened in the seat, staring ahead, taking in her surroundings. With her improved vision she could see the enormous structure they approached. Receding light surrounded the cabin-like structure. It was almost dark, the sun vanishing beneath the horizon.

She thought about the full moon on the way. Excitement and apprehension sent a rush of adrenaline through her system. She could feel the wolf inside her. Each passing hour brought more of the beast to the surface. The animal wanted to break free and run through the trees, breathing in the sweet scent of pine and leaves, feeling the cold earth beneath its feet.

They drew closer and she studied numerous vehicles parked around the cabin. She recognized one in particular—the SUV Simone and her father had driven to The Wolf’s Den. Exhilaration shifted to aggression. Her heart raced, her bestial half’s howl loud in her head. This time she recognized the possessiveness—the fury—that her wolf felt. She shared the sentiment.

Jackson was hers.

She’d fight for him. Bleed for him.

Die for him.

Warm breath caressed her ear and the very man she was determined to mark as her own whispered, “Soon, Chloe.” He released her leg and covered her hand with his, edging close so only she would hear. “We’ll be alone and your wolf can come out to play. Until then…”

A powerful surge of energy traveled up her arm and she was suddenly aware Jackson wasn’t the only one speaking to her—so was his wolf. His beast brushed against hers, compelling her feral half to heed his warning.

“You listen to me. Only me.”

The wolf within her settled, going astonishingly quiet. His power was shocking, delving into her soul and taking control. She’d never experienced anything like it. The link between them was undeniable. Maybe she should have been angry at his domination but his authority gave her peace, calming her in a way she desperately needed.

“Chloe?” her grandfather inquired, turning his head to look at her. When their gazes met she recognized the concern in his eyes. “Are you okay, Bean?”

“I’m fine.” She gave him what she hoped was a confident smile. Her guardian had enough to worry about. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t comprehend what was happening to her. He was completely human, without an animal inside him to contend with. “It’s just nerves.”

He returned his focus to the road with a loud snort. She studied his hands, noting the whiteness of his knuckles as he clenched the steering wheel. He didn’t buy her excuse. Not for a second. Memories of her childhood came rushing back. Gramps had never confronted her when she’d fibbed. He hadn’t had to. The moment she’d sensed his disapproval she’d always come clean.

She stared ahead, studying the people beside the cars and trucks. As much as she wanted to tell her grandfather the truth, she couldn’t. There was no room for her past in the present. The future waited. If she wanted to prove she was worthy of Jackson, she had to rely on herself.

Starting now.

Her wolf approved of her thinking, growling softly in her mind. She recognized the beast’s intentions. The animal had something to prove to the werewolves they were about to meet—to the pack she would soon lead—and to any female who had the nerve to challenge her for a place at her mate’s side.

They had no idea what the wolf was capable of. But they would.

Both of the men in the car wanted to protect her. What they didn’t know was her wolf had every intention of protecting them.

Chloe tilted her head and peered through her lashes at Jackson. Her gums were tingling again, her skin starting to itch. She expected to find him studying her. Instead he was staring straight ahead, eyes narrowed, glaring at the building. She followed his example and did the same. Seven men stood in front of an enormous group—including Simone’s father, Wade.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Alphas from the area,” Jackson responded, skimming his thumb over her knuckles. “Wade apparently has diarrhea mouth. He must have told them what happened last night. They know we’re coming.”

She willed her hands to stop shaking, taking deep breaths to remain calm. Her eyes swept over a man who stood out in the group. Tall. Muscular. Short curly blond hair kissed by the last rays of the sun. Their eyes met through the windshield. Bright green irises—a color she was only too familiar with—matched hers.

Oh God.

It was him.

Time slowed to a trickle. They continued toward Gavin Worthington, his form becoming larger. No wonder Jackson had identified her biological father so quickly. Chloe might as well have been looking in a mirror. Despite being male Gavin had similar facial features, all the way down to his eyes, nose and mouth.

“Do you recognize him?” Jackson asked.

“That I do.” Gramps eased off the gas, buying them more time. She ripped her gaze from Gavin when her guardian reached for the gun wedged between the door and driver’s seat. “He knows about Chloe. Look at him. He’s waiting for her.”

“He knows,” Jackson confirmed, remaining completely calm. His fingers tightened around her hand. “I think he intends to greet her properly before the packs.”

“Good thing I brought Remington along.” Chloe could identify her grandfather’s rising anger through a scent that burned like pepper in her nose. He didn’t pull the gun out but rested his fingers on the stock. “I’ll wipe that smug smile off his face.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jackson murmured. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Chloe didn’t want to look—afraid of what she might see—but she couldn’t stop herself. She froze as soon as she redirected her gaze to the man she’d resented as a child. Jackson was right. To those around him Gavin probably appeared confident and self-assured. To her, he seemed apprehensive.

Gavin’s green eyes darted to her grandfather and his lips thinned.

“That’s right. It’s me. You piss-poor excuse for a man,” Gramps whispered, his voice a low grumble. “Time to eat a slice of humble pie.”

“This isn’t about you, Fletcher. It’s about the future of your grandchild.” Jackson kept his tone level but Chloe knew he wasn’t fucking around. “You said you could keep a level head so do it. Don’t make this harder than it already is. You’ve only got one chance to face the packs and earn their respect. Stick to the plan.”

Her grandfather didn’t reply, stopping the truck several yards from Gavin. She flipped her hand around, clinging to Jackson’s fingers. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would burst from her chest. When Gramps put the vehicle in park and shut off the motor she peered up at the rearview mirror. The members of Jackson’s pack drove around them, placing their cars between Gavin and the truck.

Jackson released her hand and opened his door. “Remember what I said. Stay calm. Don’t fuck around.” Glancing over his shoulder, he directed quietly, “Don’t leave my side, Chloe.”

She ticked off his earlier instructions.

Maintain eye contact. Don’t show fear. Don’t back down.

And—until their mating was officially recognized—do not speak.

Her legs felt watery when she slid from the seat and her feet landed on solid ground. Jackson was there to catch her, placing his large hands on her hips. She rested her palms on his chest, waiting until she felt steady and her nerves settled. After she was confident her balance was intact, she lowered her arms.

Doors slammed and footsteps approached. She lifted her head and saw Jackson’s pack had left their cars and surrounded them. Shane drew her attention, standing closer than the rest. Their eyes met and he gave Chloe a nod. He didn’t need to communicate with words, she got the message.

Be strong.

Wolves devoured the weak. Kill or be killed.

Declan’s sharply spoken “shit” had the pack on alert. It only took a moment to identify the source of their alarm. Gramps had closed his door and was approaching Gavin with his shotgun in hand.

If Jackson was concerned, it didn’t show. He simply wrapped his hand around hers, guided her through the people circling them and followed her grandfather at a leisurely pace. Her stomach rolled, a lemony bitterness rising to coat the back of her throat. She swallowed several times to combat nausea, keeping her head high. Her gaze swept over the men behind Gavin. Like Jackson, they revealed no emotion. She didn’t know if they were curious or angered by her grandfather’s presence.

Gramps hiked his gun and pointed it at Gavin. “Bet you didn’t expect to see me again, did you?” His hands were steady but his voice cracked, as though the strain of the years were finally taking their toll. In that moment he seemed so much older, wiser and frail.

“Mr. Bryant,” Gavin replied evenly and shifted his attention to her.

Green irises shone like blades of grass, the edges along the pupil brighter in color. She’d often wondered why Gramps had seemed sad when he looked at her sometimes, the misery in his gaze aging him beyond his years. Now she understood. He hadn’t seen his daughter when he looked at Chloe. He’d seen the man who’d taken what he’d loved most and cast her aside.

“Don’t even think about it,” Gramps thundered. “You stay away from her.”

Gavin ignored him, staring straight at her. “Welcome home, daughter.”

The loud snap of the shotgun being pumped made her breath catch, the ground beneath her feet feeling as though it had disappeared.

No, no, no.

Gavin might as well have built his own coffin, climbed inside and instructed everyone around to start piling on the dirt. He had no idea how much pain and suffering he’d caused.

Her feet moved of their own accord, covering the distance between her and the man who’d raised her. Jackson easily kept pace, gripping her fingers. His touch reminded that he was there and she wasn’t alone.

“Fletcher Bryant is here at my request,” Jackson called out, ensuring everyone within earshot heard his declaration. “He wishes to validate my mating to the grandchild he’s reared since birth.”

The composure Gavin maintained slipped. “The hell he has.”

Gramps stopped a few feet away from Gavin, shotgun braced on his shoulder. The wind swept through his graying hair, sending strands along his temple. “Give me a reason to pull the trigger.” One smooth motion and the barrel was aimed directly at Gavin’s groin. “I’ll start here and work my way up.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jackson quipped with a trace of humor. “Will it, Gavin?”

“A wolf with an ounce of respect would have consulted me about the mating.” Gavin’s glowing eyes landed on Jackson. “You should have come to me the moment you learned about her.”

Chloe jerked when the gun went off. The ground beside Gavin’s feet exploded, sending grass and earth scattering in the air. Everyone’s attention went to her grandfather, who carefully eased the gun up until he once again had Gavin in his sights.

“You’ve got some nerve talking about respect. You wouldn’t know the definition of the word if someone slapped you in the face with a dictionary.”

Gavin’s lips compressed, his eyes narrowing to slits. He turned his head and met Chloe’s gaze. It felt like cotton had been shoved into her mouth, making her throat agonizingly dry. She had to steel herself not to turn away or lower her eyes. Her wolf was newly born but she felt its presence. It wanted to take over and assert control. Power inched over her, cocooning her like a blanket, seeping through her skin.

“Be careful, Gavin,” Wade cautioned and took a step forward. “She’s unstable. Push her too far and she’ll crack.”

“She’s not unstable,” Gramps corrected coldly. “She’s just got a keen nose for bullshit.” Shifting his feet, he declared, “My granddaughter wants to get hitched. Since her groom-to-be showed enough respect to ask for my blessing, I’ve given it to the happy couple. If any of you have a problem with that, now’s the time to say so.”

Corresponding silence seemed to go on forever, especially with Gavin staring directly at her. Her heart clenched as she thought about her mother. The woman who’d given her life had never stood a chance. Gavin was extraordinarily handsome with his blond curls and bright eyes. Like the werewolves around them, he was also perfectly built, with muscles evident beneath his expensive clothing.

“Gavin.” Wade placed a hand on the Alpha’s shoulder. “You can’t dispute the claim. If you do you’ll risk the future of your pack.”

“The future of the pack is what put me in this position,” Gavin snarled and shook off Wade’s hand. Ignoring the gun pointed at him, he started toward Chloe and Jackson. She considered stepping back but Jackson didn’t allow it, squeezing her fingers almost to the point of pain.

“Is this what you want?” Gavin didn’t stop until mere inches separated them. This close she could see the lines around his eyes, the pain on his face. “Is he who you want?”

Jackson had warned her not to talk but there was no escaping it.

“I’ll have no other,” she responded, remembering Jackson’s earlier declaration. Leaning to the side, she braced herself against Jackson, comforted by the warmth of his body. He released her fingers and wrapped his arm around her, sheltering her under his shoulder.

“I’ll accept your claim,” Gavin turned from her and looked at Jackson, “but I want to speak to my daughter. There are things she needs to know. Things she deserves to hear.”

Gramps’ “hell no” created movement in the werewolves. Vicious growls filled the air. Jackson swept her behind him, his own violent snarl loud in her ears. Veering to the left, she fought to see.

Several werewolves had moved forward and Jackson’s pack rushed to intercept them. Panic broke her silence, ripping a horrified cry from her throat. The arm Jackson thrust out prevented her from aiding her grandfather, keeping her safely behind him.

Gavin’s loudly bellowed “stop” clashed with Jackson’s thunderous “stand down”.

She sagged against Jackson’s back as pure fire raced through her, the magnitude of her mate’s wolf absolute. Energy poured from his skin and seared into hers. Grasping at his shoulders, she fought to stand.

There was no denying his order.

Every fiber of her being told her to relent and do exactly as he said.

Both packs immediately complied and stopped in place. A few of them swayed as though they too felt the strength of will behind the commands from their Alphas. The growls didn’t stop but at least they weren’t actually fighting each other.

“Done,” Jackson retorted, the muscles in his shoulders flexing as she leaned against him. A steady vibration emitted from him—the pure and unadulterated energy created by his wolf—and poured into her. Oddly the sensation soothed rather than jolted her, becoming an anchor she desperately needed. “Seal the mating.”

Gavin’s expression softened as he looked at her. She couldn’t identify the emotion that flickered in his eyes. Sorrow? Regret? Determination? Hope?

Before she could compartmentalize her thoughts, he turned around and faced the packs. “I recognize and accept the young woman before me as my daughter. Let it be known that I’ve agreed to her mating with Jackson Donovan to strengthen our ranks,” he announced. “From this moment forward, our packs are united.”

As quickly as tension filled the air, it dissipated. The wolves relaxed and the growls stopped. The arm Jackson used to shield her from harm disappeared. Gramps shifted his attention to her. There was so much adoration in his face—so much concern.

“Chloe Bean?” he inquired softly.

She knew then that her grandfather was sacrificing his happiness for hers. Even though he wanted to confront Gavin, he was willing to walk away if that’s what she wanted. Despite everything he’d been through, his love for her was stronger than the hate he’d held on to over the years. Her eyes burned with tears, stinging like needles. She forced a smile, unable to see him clearly as her vision blurred.

The roar of an engine ripped through the air, destroying the moment. Jackson spun around and Chloe did the same. A sleek, white BMW approached. A resonating snarl had her head snapping to the side. She looked over her shoulder at Gavin, who’d lost any semblance of calm.

“Does she know about her?” Jackson asked, catching Chloe off guard.

Before she could ask who “she” and “her” were, Gavin growled, “Yes.”

“Is she the reason you left your child?” Jackson snaked his arm around Chloe’s waist and tugged her close. For the second time she felt his wolf rise. “Does she pose a threat?”

“Yes.”

Gavin strode over to them, reaching into his back pocket. His irises shone a vivid yellow-gold, accentuating the blond curls on his head. He didn’t dawdle when he removed a thick folded envelope and handed it to Chloe.

“Everything you need to know is inside. When you’re ready to talk, I’m only a phone call away.” He stared, as though framing the moment in time, his green gaze taking in the contours of her face. Finally—though it seemed to take effort—he ripped his eyes from her and looked at Jackson. “You shouldn’t stay for the hunt. Things are bound to get messy.”

“I won’t let my female lose face by running from your bitch of a Lupa,” Jackson replied levelly.

“Former Lupa,” Gavin corrected, staring into the distance, a surge of wind sweeping through the random locks of hair at his nape. “I’m renouncing our mating.” With a parting look at Chloe, he started walking toward the car, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t make me regret trusting you, Jackson Donovan.”

“Shit,” Jackson muttered and then yelled, “Fletcher, start the truck. We’re leaving.”

“Whoa, hold up,” she gasped, trying to speak despite the arm that hoisted her from the ground. Clutching the envelope Gavin had given her, she fought to stay upright. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you just as soon as we’re off the hunting grounds. We need to go.”

Jackson reached the truck, opened the door and placed her inside the cabin. He moved away just long enough to instruct the pack to stay then slid into the seat beside her. In the short time she’d known the man, he had never backed down from anything.

What the hell has him so shaken?

Gramps tossed his gun into the bed of the truck and climbed in. One flick of his wrist and the engine came to life. Chloe managed to turn in time to see the BMW come to a screeching halt beside them. The driver’s side door flew open and a leggy brunette jumped out. Her furious blue eyes drifted to the truck and fixated on Chloe.

“Go,” Jackson snarled, his head turned in the glaring woman’s direction.

Gramps didn’t bother putting the truck in reverse. He rotated the wheel and skirted past the vehicles in front of them. Gavin intercepted the female—his Lupa, Chloe assumed—as she screamed something that was too garbled to understand and started striking him in the chest.

As they drove into the fading dusk, she lowered her head.

The envelope in her hand felt heavy—too heavy.

Everything you need to know is inside.

Jackson released a jagged breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to explain. Desiree might have—”

“I don’t want to know,” she whispered, knowing he would hear. “Not yet.”

Lifting her hand, she groped at the truck’s headliner. It wasn’t entirely dark out but she couldn’t read if she couldn’t see. When she found the button to turn on the interior light, she pushed it on and encased the area in a soft glow.

Jackson and her grandfather didn’t say a word when she took a deep breath, unfolded the envelope and slid it open. Nestled inside were pieces of paper.

Letters.

Her fingers trembled when her eyes skimmed over the first one.

Gavin, I don’t know where to start.

She kept reading, confirming her suspicions when she reached the end of the note.

It was from her mother.

She had obviously been infatuated with Gavin, putting her feelings to paper even though it was apparent she’d felt uncomfortable and awkward doing so. Chloe shuffled the note to the back of the stack. The second letter was written by someone else.

Dearest Sylvie…

She felt dizzy when she thought about what she held in her hands. There were many things Gavin could tell her about the past but she’d never know how her mother had felt. At least, she’d thought she’d never know.

Everything you need to know is inside.

The man she’d hated had given her a gift beyond measure, one that allowed her to get a glimpse into the mind of the one person she’d always wanted to know—her mother.

Forcing aside tears, she settled back and started reading.

Chapter Twelve

Jackson watched Chloe step into the cabin. She’d refused to put away the envelope full of letters Gavin had given her, clutching them like a lifeline. The trip to her grandparents’ property had been a quiet one. After they’d arrived, she’d exchanged a tearful farewell with her grandparents, climbed into his car, turned on the light and continued reading. The few times he’d been able to sense her emotions—fear, hurt and despair—he’d touched her, alleviating her distress in the only manner he could. Now that they’d arrived at the cabin and she’d finished reading, it was time to talk to her about the past and their future.

The heat of the moon beckoned but he forced his wolf back. He could scent Chloe’s desire to change, noted the way she’d fidgeted when she’d slid out of his car. Time wasn’t on their side but he was determined find out what she’d learned.

Surprisingly, she relinquished her tight grip on the letters, placing them on the counter as she strode toward the kitchen. Then she pivoted to face him. Her skin was flushed, her green eyes changing to a breathtaking shade of emerald. She rubbed her hands over her arms.

“My skin won’t stop itching.”

He closed the distance and put his arms around her. Drawing her close, he breathed in her luscious scent. The wolf was there, waiting to answer the call of the moon.

“I’ll take care of that shortly. Tell me about the letters.”

She trembled, resting her face against his chest. “He tried to warn her,” she murmured. He could tell she was struggling not to cry. “He told her they couldn’t be together.” Her hands came around his waist, tiny fingers digging into his jacket. “She wouldn’t listen.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “She didn’t listen.”

“Did he talk about the packs?”

Her head bobbed as she nodded, wisps of her curly hair brushing his chin. “He said he was mated to someone but he didn’t love her. He never loved her.”

She unexpectedly pulled away, looking up at him through eyes brimming with tears. “He was trying to protect her—to protect me. He didn’t want to hurt Mom. He only wanted to keep her safe.” Crystalline drops spilled from her lashes and her lower lip quivered. “How can I hate him now? What am I supposed to do?”

“Take things one day at a time,” he answered and slid his hand into her hair, resting his fingers against her neck. “You decide how things play out. If you want to know more, you can get to know Gavin. If you don’t, walk away.”

She seemed lost. “It’s not that easy.”

The hell it isn’t. “Yes it is.”

A tremor racked her and she muffled a cry. He wanted to roar at the full moon and tell it to go the fuck away. The scent of forest and pine caressed his nostrils, the wolf within her rising to take control.

“He loved her,” she whispered, misery apparent in her voice.

“I think he still does, Chloe.”

The way Gavin had looked at his daughter at the hunting grounds had changed Jackson’s perspective on things. The Alpha loved his child. That much was evident. The pain in his eyes indicated their meeting dredged up memories of Chloe’s mother. A woman he’d lost and would never see again. A woman he might have claimed as a mate if the circumstances had been different.

Usually Gavin was an arrogant pain in the ass. He expected his orders to be followed without question, running his pack with an iron fist. This evening he’d been cautious, humble and nervous. He’d wanted to know the daughter he’d given up. Everyone had sensed it. If Gavin did as he promised and ended his mating, he might have to give up everything he’d sacrificed so much to obtain.

Which said a helluva lot about the bastard.

“That woman. The one in the car. It was her, wasn’t it? His mate.” The animosity in her tone was impossible to miss. “She knows about me. That’s why he wanted us to leave.”

He questioned whether it was better to tell the truth or a lie. Chloe’s wolf continued struggling to the surface, the energy and power bringing his own beast to life. Anger wasn’t a good thing during the full moon, when it was difficult to keep dangerous emotions under control.

“Yes.”

“I want to hurt her.”

“I’m sure you do.” He ran his thumb over her throat, hoping to calm her, using wide, sweeping strokes. “And I don’t blame you. But maybe you should wait until you talk to Gavin before you make big decisions. He can answer all your questions. There could be other things you don’t know.”

“I know enough.” Her voice dipped several octaves, deeper and throatier than usual. “I saw the way shelooked at me. That woman knew about my mother and father. She understood what they felt for each other and she didn’t care. The bitch is a menace.”

“It’s not always that simple.” And it wasn’t, not for wolves. When packs were involved it changed things. Desiree wasn’t likable—hell, she wasn’t even nice—but she was respected by the packs for a reason. She put her wolves before everything else, including herself. That was why she’d agreed to the arranged mating with Gavin, to make the wolves who depended on her stronger.

“I can’t believe it.” She tried to rip herself from his embrace. “You’re defending her!”

“I’m not.” Fuck it was hard to prevent his beast from responding to her anger. The bond they shared made him want to react—to destroy whatever caused his female distress. “Things are different when it comes to pack. I’m simply stating the truth.”

Again he felt the surge of energy that came from her wolf. The strength of the animal collided with his, fighting for supremacy. He felt her rage as her lips pulled back, forming into a snarl.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

Instead of settling, she struggled even harder. He managed to keep her close but she got a few elbows to his chest and arms. Her tiny little snarls soon turned to growls, the presence of her wolf pouring off her in waves.

Goddamn it.

The time for discussion was over.

So much for keeping a lid on things.

He dropped his guard and let his wolf slide into the passenger seat. The beast recognized its mate, rushing to merge its force to hers. They collided in a flurry of fur and growls. Chloe tensed against him, gasping for air. He molded her body to his when she tried to move away, holding her firmly to his chest.

The first step of the shift had started.

There was no turning back.

“Let go,” he instructed, his own voice a heavy growl. “Set the wolf free. I’ve got you.”

He hurried outside, no longer able to mute the mesmerizing cry from the moon. His pulse was pounding, the rush of blood through his head deafening. A quick flick of his wrist opened the back door. He glided over the porch and down the stairs. The orb floating in the sky above blanketed them in soft white rays. Her whimper seared through him, yanking him away from the urge to change.

Focus, asshole.

Once he’d reached an open area near the tree line he carefully lowered Chloe to the ground. She was shivering, her hands bunched into fists. Teeny claws were visible at the ends. She gazed up at him and he saw her eyes were no longer human. Beautiful chartreuse rimmed the pupil, as bright as spring leaves rippling in the summer sun.

“Clothes off,” he growled and started peeling the layers away from her body.

Her clawed fingers shook as she helped him, stripping off her shirt and pulling it over her head. She trembled, no doubt due to the chilly air. Thankfully cold wouldn’t be an issue for much longer. Not when she was covered in fur. When she tugged at the button of her jeans he went to work removing his own clothing. It only took seconds but it wasn’t fast enough. His muscles were on fire, his bones starting to ache. Each garment he removed allowed the beams from the moon to caress his skin.

The wolf bristled. It was almost time.

Scents assailed him, the lure of the wooded forest taunting him. Soon he’d feel the earth beneath his paws, the way his claws sank into its cold depths. The wind would rush through his fur as he embraced his feral half.

Glorious. Pure. Unleashed.

Not yet.

Chloe sank to the ground and yanked off her shoes and socks. She was nude from the waist up, covered only in jeans twisted around her legs. Her claws tore the denim as a frustrated growl came from her. A sliver of relief surged through him. Pain would be minimal her first shift. She probably wouldn’t even remember it. The wolf wouldn’t let her think about the consequences of changing. The transformation would be quick, any fears she might experience minor.

Taking a knee, he reached out to cup her chin. “Before the moon takes you, know this. I will never lie to you, Chloe. You’re more important to me than anything. Never question it.”

Her wolf was in control but he knew the woman heard him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and she closed her eyes. He veered back, taking her with him. He didn’t stop until she was on her hands and knees. When she let him go, he waited, watching with his heart lodged in his throat.

Make it fast. Please make it fast.

Bones snapped in succession and fur bled from her skin. She lowered her head as it changed shape, elongating to form her muzzle. A sharp scream made the hair on his neck rise. Fear struck, changing relief to concern. The change wasn’t quick, it was slow as fuck. Even wolves facing their first change were able to accomplish the transformation in seconds.

She’d be in agony like this.

This time he couldn’t keep his wolf in check. His beast took over, reaching out to its mate. Jackson’s skin itched as he started to change. Bones popped and realigned, forcing him to brace his weight on his hands. In two beats of his heart it was done. He shook himself, orienting himself to the world around him.

He froze.

Chloe’s heartbreaking cries had stopped.

Lifting his head, he met her gaze.

Holy shit.

She’d changed with him, shifting from one form to another by drawing on the energy created by his wolf. Damn she was a tiny thing—closer to the size of a dog than a werewolf—but he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Her coat was like her hair minus the curls, thick, luxurious blonde. And her eyes were stunning emerald along the edge, shining like peridot near the center.

Perfect.

His suspicion that she was an Alpha was confirmed when she didn’t look away, keeping her stare level with his. She wouldn’t back down. Not to anyone. Even newly changed, the authority her wolf displayed was impressive.

Damn she was beautiful. Proud and untamed.

Still, he had to make his position clear, so there were no disillusions.

He growled, the rumbling sound a deep warning drone. He was the head of the pack, the absolute authority in all matters. There were no second chances. This was a lesson she had to understand and appreciate from the onset. Her safety and place as his Lupa hinged on it.

Her wolf responded, lowering her head, accepting his dominance. A low, confused whine drew him close. He couldn’t and wouldn’t deny her comfort and reassurance. Their shoulders brushed, his dark fur a stark contrast to hers. His inability to communicate telepathically had never bothered him before. A few older wolves possessed that talent—as well other unique abilities—but he wasn’t one of them. Right now, however, he wished he could slide into her head and share his thoughts. In order to communicate he had to rely on physical connection, reading her body language and scent. Right now she was anxious, but he didn’t detect fear. Likely she was acclimating to her senses, becoming accustomed to her wolven half.

Scuffling leaves just past the trees got her attention. Her head darted to the side, nostrils flaring and ears lifting to points. He heard and scented the same thing she did. A squirrel wasn’t the best game but her interest was what was important. She was past the difficult part. It was time to introduce her to the world that existed right in front of her that she’d been unable to see.

When he nudged her toward the trees she moved awkwardly, testing her legs as she swayed from side to side. He knew precisely when she found her balance. Her spine straightened and she stood tall. Wind shuffled through her blonde fur, the lush strands like waves in an ocean. She took a few hesitant steps, as though she wanted to be certain her legs would hold her.

With a soft growl, he gently nipped her flank. She shot him a look, her gaze playful. He gave her another heave with his nose, urging her forward. The gesture was greeted with a soft snort and the turning of her head. She stared into the distance, eyes alert. He felt the anticipation flowing from her, their connection growing and solidifying their bond.

As she took off in a graceful lope, he followed.

Tonight belonged to them.

Amazing.

The wind rushed over her face, forcing her to fold back her ears—her ears for goodness sake—so she didn’t have to slow down. Her vision had never been so clear, her sense of smell so strong. Although it was dark, she was able to distinguish each tree, able to locate the noisy critter she’d heard in the clearing.

The squirrel ran up a tree as she approached, taking shelter in the branches. Leaves rained down, their scent earthy and sweet. She stopped to take a deep breath, finding herself absorbed in the beauty of the world at night. The soft chorus of crickets whispered in her ears, the light from the moon covering everything in a beautiful glow.

For a moment thoughts of her mother and father intruded.

The memory of reading their letters seemed hazy now, more of an afterthought. When she tried to focus, recalling the envelope her father had given her, her wolf changed her train of thought.

There was another—more alluring—scent she needed to pay attention to.

Jackson.

Moving came naturally now, allowing her to turn and face the man-turned-wolf behind her. He was enormous and stunning.

Broad shoulders. Dark fur. Golden eyes.

Mine.

In this form her wolf was louder and more demanding. They didn’t speak to each other, rather they shared impressions of things. Right now the proud entity wanted to get closer to her mate, to rub against him so her scent mingled with his. She also wanted to mark him, burying her teeth in the fleshy portion of skin that ran from his shoulder to his neck.

A rustle from the woods beyond distracted her. She whipped her head around, homing on the sound and smell. The scent was different than the squirrels, grassier somehow. She couldn’t identify what existed out of her line of sight, but she was eager to find out.

Jackson came to her side. He was so much larger, his shoulders inches above hers. After a quick look in her direction he took off, running toward the animal in the distance. Instinct took over, guiding her feet as she followed. Trees bled past, a continuous blur in her peripheral vision. The earth was cold beneath her feet, clumps of it giving way to her claws.

Her muscles pulsed, her heart beating faster than usual. Each breath she took immersed her deeper in the night. So many things surrounded them, unique in their own special way. Even the trees seemed to come to life. The wind made the branches sway, a dance of twigs and leaves.

In seconds they came upon an open field.

Deer.

Jackson picked a target, never slowing down. She was amazed at how easy it was to keep up. Although he was larger, she seemed to be just as fast.

The herd of deer broke apart, scattering in various directions. The one her mate was intent on—a large, gorgeous doe—made a beeline for trees at the end of the clearing. It didn’t make it, unable to outrun the wolves in pursuit. The noise the doe made when Jackson pounced on her was pitiful, a mixture of a cry and a bark.

Realization slammed into Chloe, slowing her down.

When Gramps hunted, she never tagged along. She didn’t mind eating game but she didn’t think she could kill an animal. Empathy threatened to stop her dead in her tracks until her wolf raged, snarling in her head. She staggered, off balance as the beast demanded she continue. Jackson didn’t seem to notice, taking the doe down in a graceful swoop.

She stopped running and approached slowly, fighting an inner battle, unsure of what to do. The deer’s thrashing legs made her wolf giddy. She could almost taste the warmth of the animal’s blood on her tongue, the way its life would pulse into her mouth. Unfortunately the idea of the creature suffering made Chloe sick. She didn’t want to eat raw meat or devour bloody flesh. She had enough common sense to know that when she changed back she’d be digesting anything she ate in wolf form.

Yuck.

She jumped back when Jackson moved and the doe leapt to her feet. A flash of brown and the animal was gone, vanishing into the trees. He waited until the deer disappeared before he faced her.

Was that disappointment in his eyes? Confusion?

With a snort, he started toward her. She lowered her head again, embarrassed of what he must be thinking. To her surprise he pressed his muzzle to hers, their fur blending together. His nose skimmed over her ear, his heated exhale sending a tingle down her spine.

Embarrassment quickly became something else. The flutter in her stomach sent heat through her limbs. Even like this she was able to feel desire. Lust cascaded through her. Different, yes, but easily identifiable. He growled as he moved away and lifted his head. His gaze traveled to the direction they’d come from. The message was loud and clear.

Back to the cabin.

Oh boy.

A part of her didn’t want to go back. She’d only gotten a taste of things to come. Those arguments didn’t matter, however. Not when Jackson started herding her in the direction he wanted her to go. His teeth were sharp as he bit at her flanks, forcing her to shift from a slow walk to a steady lope. Her nose piloted her through the trees, the scent of the cabin becoming stronger.

She passed the expanse of trees, basking in the stretch in her muscles, finding that she wasn’t in the least bit tired. If she wanted she could keep going like this for hours. It felt glorious running wild and free, surrounded by the beauty of nature. Even the cold wasn’t a factor. She was perfectly warm, her skin radiating the same kind of heat Jackson’s did.

Without warning the large dark wolf beside her took off. He charged up the stairs and paused in front of the door. She stopped at the foot of the porch, aware of the annoying itchy sensation returning to her skin. Out of habit she lifted a hand to ease the itch, only to remember she couldn’t rub her arms. Not with paws.

Jackson glanced at her then bent his head. His fur glided back to reveal smooth, tanned skin. She wasn’t sure if the earlier change was responsible but her wolf retreated as Jackson’s did. There wasn’t time to be frightened. She didn’t have the opportunity to remember how horrible her first transformation had been. In the blink of an eye she went from wolf to woman.

Just like that. Easy as pie.

Wow. Just…wow.

She held out her hands and wriggled her fingers. Everything worked. Apart from being aware of her body in an odd way, she didn’t feel any different. She rose to her feet, welcoming the stretch in her muscles. She’d never felt so good. As she looked down at her body she realized why. The outline of muscles replaced areas that had once been soft. When she lifted her arm she was able to see the flex of her biceps.

No wonder werewolves were in excellent shape.

Holy shit!

Jackson opened the door and pivoted around. He started when he got a full-on view of her naked body, gawking as his eyes traveled from her toes to her face. His obvious shock made her want to laugh.

“What’s the matter?” Her voice was still deep and husky, the wolf no longer at the forefront but ever present. “Cat got your tongue?”

She closed the distance between them, slowly climbing the stairs. It occurred to her that she was outdoors and anyone could see her but she didn’t care. Perhaps it was the wolf that had become part of her. Even now she could sense the beast’s thoughts.

It wanted Jackson just as much as she did.

As soon as she was close enough he reached out and grasped her hips. Her gaze rested on his nipples, the discs a dark tan. Would he experience pleasure if she licked and sucked at each of them? Unable to resist the temptation—wanting to discover what pleased him—she leaned forward and covered one with her mouth. His skin was warm and salty, perfect to tease with her teeth and tongue.

Jackson snarled and cupped her ass, pushing his full length against her belly. “See what you do to me, baby? See what that hot little mouth of yours does to my cock?”

When he lifted her she raised her head and wrapped her legs around his waist. He slung the door open and carried her inside. Butterflies tickled her stomach. Her breath caught when he closed the door and flipped the lock into place. Deep down she’d known Jackson wanted every single thing she had to offer. Tonight he was going to take what he wanted.

His eyes glowed, the yellow-gold hue mesmerizing. He brought his head down and bit her lip, gentle so he didn’t pierce her skin.

“Fuck you smell good. I haven’t even touched your pussy but I know you’re wet as hell. If I wanted I could toss you on the counter and fuck you right now. You’d take all of me without so much as a whimper.”

“Yes please,” she whispered, her vaginal walls clenching. On the counter, against the wall, on the floor—she’d take him anywhere. So long as he eased the ache building inside her.

He squeezed her ass, grinding the hard outline of his cock against her. “We’ll save the counter for later. I have other plans.”

Before she could ask what he had in mind, he kissed her. She moaned, rubbing her hard and sensitive nipples into his chest. The friction felt incredible but it wasn’t enough.

Not nearly enough.

A part of her wanted to scream when he pulled away. If he didn’t do something soon she was going to force him to the ground and take what she wanted. To hell with his plans. He wasn’t the only one who could take control.

“I wish you’d hurry. I’m running out of patience.”

He didn’t let her go, turning in the direction of the stairs. “Be careful what you wish for, baby. I just might give it to you.”

Who was he kidding? “I hope so.”

She didn’t anticipate the growl that came from him, or the way he shifted her weight so he could hold her with one arm. His free hand tangled in the hair at her nape. With a flex of his fingers he forced her to look him in the eye. Her womb clenched, sending a rush of wetness from her pussy.

There was no mistaking the wicked gleam in his gaze.

“It’s time to play, Chloe girl.”

Chapter Thirteen

The minx in his arms was stronger than he’d given her credit for. She’d not only managed to shift like a full-blooded were, but she’d instinctively reached out to him as she’d done so. Jackson had been stunned, gawking at her like she had grown a third head. He couldn’t prevent his reaction. Halflings simply didn’t acclimate to the change as easily as Chloe did, as though she’d been shifting a majority of her life.

Her hot little body brushed against his as he climbed the stairs, her hard nipples rubbing against his chest. He hadn’t been sure how the night would play out when it came to this moment. She’d been through so much. It wasn’t fair to ask for more. Even if his wolf demanded it.

Worry and doubt reared their ugly heads.

Would she deny him what wolves considered a true mating?

Only one way to find out.

He lowered her to the ground, placing his hands on her waist. “I’m taking all of you tonight,” he growled, thrusting his aching cock against her abdomen. Reaching down, he slid a finger between the cleft in her ass, searching for the tiny rosette nestled between her cheeks.

She gasped, muscles going tense, when the tip of his finger caressed the puckered skin. “I’ve never…I mean…” A red flush spread over her cheeks. “I haven’t done that before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he countered with a grin, circling the delicate, clenching skin. “I’ll be the only man to take you here. Your first and last.”

Damn if the thought didn’t make his balls throb and his cock pulse.

The darkest of pleasures was the ultimate act of submission.

When he scented her panic he hurried to reassure her. “I won’t hurt you, baby. I’ll make sure you’re good and ready for me. It’ll feel so good, Chloe. Better than you can imagine.”

“If you say so.”

He continued stroking the ring of muscle. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good.”

He leaned in for a kiss and she clutched his arms. The moment was sweet and tender, even though the scent of her arousal made it difficult to think straight. He wanted to throw her on the bed, part her thighs and go down on her until she screamed. Instead he forced himself to go slow and coax a response as their tongues touched, parted and eased into a sensual dance.

Her hair fanned over the comforter when he lowered her to the mattress, curling strands of blonde resting around her shoulders. He went down with her, keeping their bodies close together. She groaned when he moved his hands from her stomach to her breasts. Breaking the kiss, he started a journey down her body. She grasped his head, her fingernails digging into his scalp.

He paused when he reached his first destination.

Her nipples were pointed and pebbled, their rosy color beautiful against her pale skin. He licked them one at a time, groaning as Chloe’s hot cunt rubbed against his thigh. Fuck she was absolute perfection—the only woman who could make his life complete. Nothing had prepared him for how he’d feel when it came to his mate.

Chloe Bryant was everything he wanted and hadn’t known he needed.

How the hell did I get so lucky?

Abandoning her breasts, he continued making a path down her body, skimming his lips over her stomach. The musk of her pussy was too strong to resist. He wanted to lap her up like honey, drowning in her taste and scent.

Placing his tongue at the bottom of her slit, he licked her in a hard, steady stroke. She released his head, abandoning his hair to grasp the comforter. He glanced at one of her hands, seeing her knuckles turn white as her fingers curled into fists Driven to hear her cries of pleasure, he repeated the motion, running his tongue along her crease, collecting her sweetness on his tongue. The pressure in his balls ventured upward. A spasm shook him, traveling down his spine. A splash of semen exited the slit in his cock, coating Chloe’s thigh as she rubbed her leg against him.

“More,” she pleaded, spreading her legs wider and thrusting her hips.

Grasping her ankles, he placed her feet over his shoulders so he had perfect access. He went to work on her pussy, lapping at her folds, making sure to avoid contact with her clit. Her high-pitched mewls were a mixture of ecstasy and frustration, which was precisely what he wanted. With each swipe of his tongue he coated the tips of his fingers, until there was enough cream to bring to her anus.

He teased the ring of muscle with a tender swirl of his thumb, making sure not to use any pressure. “How does that feel, baby?”

“It’s…okay,” she gasped, writhing beneath him.

“I think we can do better than okay. I’m going to make this good for you.”

In this position he was close enough to reach the nightstand. After he opened the drawer he sorted through the contents. It wasn’t hard to find what he was searching for. When he had the small bottle of lubricant in hand, he shifted his body again so he was directly over his female. He kissed her, growling as her nails dug into his shoulders. She thrust her pelvis up and rolled her hips.

“Not yet,” he murmured and placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth.

As he moved down her body she spread her legs. Once he’d gotten her in position—feet resting on his back, knees splayed outward—he placed the lube on the mattress and nuzzled the tender skin between her sex and thigh. She was so soft, her scent so damn tempting.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she groaned.

He knew how she felt. His dick was so hard it could be classified as a weapon. But he intended to make this night something to remember. He turned his head and ran his tongue along the lips of her cunt. She was hotter than hell, burning his lips. He used his fingers to part her folds, drawing a deep breath. Glistening pink flesh greeted him, her clit swollen and pushing free of its hood.

“Damn it.” She slammed her hands against the mattress, wriggling her ass. “Stop being a tease. Give me what I want.”

He flicked her clit with his tongue, making sure the contact was hard and fast. She whimpered, her luscious thighs shaking.

Perfect. She was right where he needed her to be.

“Yes,” she cried, burying her fingers in his hair. “God yes.”

He kept going, sucking softly, plunging his tongue into her heat. In the meantime he opened the tiny bottle and slicked up his fingers. When they were good and wet he brought his hand to her bottom, searching for and finding her anus. He took care as he pressed one finger against her, feeling resistance. Since Chloe had never experienced the joys of anal sex he wanted to make sure the first time was pleasurable, not frightening. He heard her harsh intake of breath when he pierced her that first tiny bit.

Fuck. Tight as hell.

He withdrew his fingers, placing his hands on her thighs. “Flip over.”

“Wait. What?” She bolted upright, resting her weight on her elbows. Her eyes were clouded with lust. “You’ve got to be kidding. You can’t leave me like this.”

“Flip,” he growled, forcing her over.

Hiking an arm around her waist, he brought her to her knees. Her ass rose into the air, giving him plenty of room to work. He lined up his cock and slid the stalk through her wet lips, gliding back and forth. Lowering her head into the pillows, she wrapped her fingers around the bottom of the bedpost.

“Damn it. Put up or shut up. You’re starting to—”

The head of his dick lodged in the mouth of her pussy and he slammed inside, cutting off whatever she intended to say, barreling forward until he was buried to the hilt. Her cunt squeezed him like a warm and wet fist.

“Hang on, sweetness.” His fingers glided over her silky skin, sliding through the lubricant. Circling the dark rim of muscle, he warned, “I’m about to take you on one helluva ride.”

Chloe felt the pulsing of Jackson’s cock deep within her, so ready to come she could feel the tingle of orgasm deep in her belly. She’d been close when he’d taken his mouth away, leaving her empty and quivering. Somehow the anticipation of what was to come made her more excited and kept her hovering on the precipice of climax.

He started to move, using slow but deep strokes. His finger circled her sphincter again, feathering over the sensitive tissue. She tried to relax when he pushed a finger inside, focusing on how good his cock felt instead of the intrusive burn. With each thrust of his cock he sank his finger deeper.

“Touch your clit,” he rasped, continuing to move. “Reach between those pretty little legs and tease it. Pretend it’s me touching you, baby. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my fingers that are making you feel good.”

Releasing the headboard, she placed her weight on her shoulders. She had to turn her head to get comfortable, moaning when her fingers found the hard little nub. She ground her teeth, awash in pain and pleasure. Her clitoris was so sensitive it almost hurt to touch, her sex wet and aching.

She hissed when two fingers parted her, spreading her wide. It did hurt but it was an odd sort of pain. Not entirely without pleasure.

“You’re so tight, Chloe girl. You’re going to feel so good around my cock. Bear down, baby. Take my fingers.”

The pressure came with a slow burn. Fortunately the sting started to fade as he worked lubricant into her ass, leaving her with an incredible feeling of fullness. He didn’t stop, timing the thrusts of his fingers with those of his cock.

“That’s right.” He praised her and she felt more pressure. She knew without looking he was using three fingers to stretch her now. “You’re amazing, baby. So fucking incredible.”

She stroked her clit, going past the discomfort, desperate for the climax that hovered just out of reach. It wouldn’t take much, only a few more strokes.

So close. Almost there.

She wailed when Jackson’s cock and fingers withdrew.

Not again!

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, shifting on his knees and moving to the head of the bed. She didn’t know what he was doing but she’d had enough.

If he didn’t fuck her soon she would kill him.

He reclined so his back rested against the headboard. “Come here.”

She didn’t wait for instruction, straddling his lap. If he wanted her he was going to get her. It wasn’t until she tried to line his cock up with her sex that he wrapped his hands around her hips and held her still.

“Not there.” He slid his hand between them and gripped the base of his shaft. His cock was slippery with lubricant he’d obviously applied, the crown ruddy and swollen. He placed the tip against her anus. “Here.”

He’d lost his mind. “It won’t work.”

“It’ll work. Just go slow. Take as much or as little of me as you can. You set the pace. If you want to stop, we will. Just try, baby. Give this to me.”

From the way he sounded he was fighting for control. She looked into his face, stunned at what she found. Sweat beaded his temples. He wanted this something fierce.

Strike that, she was certain he needed this something fierce.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she bore down and lowered herself onto him. She bit her lip and braced herself, exhaling through her nose. The pressure was so intense she shook with it. When the tip of his cock pushed through and claimed her that first little bit she rested her head on Jackson’s shoulder.

“As much or as little as you want,” he whispered and released his cock, bringing his fingers to her clit. “It’s up to you.”

He wasn’t gentle as he manipulated the tender pearl, swirling his thumb over it in hard circles. She was so slippery it was almost embarrassing. Her juices combined with the lube made it easy for him rub his thumb over the bundle of nerves.

She rocked her ass, careful as she moved up and down. Each time she returned she took more of him. The burn returned but it was bearable. Heat flared in her belly, winding down to her pussy. Her legs shook, muscles flexing as she rode his cock. She wasn’t sure when pain became pleasure but it did. Her body slowly accepted him, parting and making way for his invasion. Settling into a rhythm, she shifted forward so each time she moved her nipples skimmed his chest.

Jackson rested a hand on her hip. “There you go. That’s it.”

Her orgasm built, stronger and more powerful than any other she’d ever experienced. She’d taken over half of her lover’s shaft, the stretch ebbing to a minor burn. She didn’t stop, driven by impulse. Her wolf appeared, taking control of her senses. Rotating her head, she licked Jackson’s salty skin, focusing on the juncture between his throat and shoulder.

Her fangs dropped and she pulled her lips back. The instant fire rushed through her body, she sank her teeth into his flesh. He snarled and she could have sworn she felt his cock swell in response. Her entire body shook with the force of her climax, her thighs struggling to function as she slid up and down her mate’s hard, thick length.

Then the presence of Jackson’s wolf washed over her.

Jackson abandoned her clit and gripped her hips, lifting up as she came down. He sank all the way in, sending her orgasm into a second wave of pleasure. It was too much but she couldn’t resist, hovering above the world, shattering into a million pieces. He growled something she didn’t understand, his hold on her unbreakable.

She cried out when he fisted her hair, revealed her shoulder and buried his teeth in her skin. Heat exploded from his bite, as though he’d used a brand instead of fangs. A hot wash exploded inside her, spurt after spurt of his seed filling her ass.

The adoration and need she felt for Jackson intensified to a level that should have frightened her. She knew what love was. Her grandparents had surrounded her with it. But this was completely different. Both parts of her—the wolf and the woman—knew that life without him would be impossible. The world was spinning on its axis but he made time stand still so confusion became clarity.

Balance. Unity. Devotion.

Being his mate took on an entirely new meaning.

He removed his teeth from her shoulder, reminding her that she needed to do the same. After she released him he lifted her from his cock. His still-hard length slipped from her body, slapping against her thigh. She sagged against him, their sweat-slicked chests sliding against each other’s. Her body was sore all over. She’d feel what they’d done for days.

And she didn’t want it any other way.

“Chloe?” he panted, catching his breath.

It was difficult to talk but she did her best. “Hmm?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. I have something important to ask.”

Pulling away from him took more energy than she’d expected but she wanted to look him in the eye. He wrapped a hand in her hair, golden irises shining.

“Our mating is official within the packs but I’d like to keep my word to your grandfather and make it legal too.” His lips curved, expression turning sweet. “Will you marry me?”

It took all her willpower not to close the distance and kiss him. Her heart was brimming, all her worries fading away.

“Gramps would like that but I don’t know. It’s a big decision.” Perhaps it was dangerous to tease him but she was willing to take her chances. “What’s in it for me?”

His smile turned into a panty-dropping grin. “How about a man who wants to give you the world?” He lowered his voice, the hand at her neck drawing her closer. “You own me. You have since the moment you entered my dreams. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

The man certainly had a way with words. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

With an answer like that, how could she refuse? “Then yes, I’ll marry you.”

Their lips met, brushed and parted. She clutched his shoulders, sighing as tingles erupted in her stomach. The rays of the moon bled through the window, covering their bodies. The impulse to shift and run through the forest remained but it wasn’t strong enough to tear her away from Jackson.

The man destined to be her mate.

The one person she couldn’t exist without.

“Shower first,” he cradled her against his chest as he rose from the bed, “then food.”

“And after?”

He nuzzled her nose, his breath warm against her mouth. “We can talk, watch a movie, go outside and play. We’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

All kinds of naughty thoughts drifted through her head. “I can live with that.”

He entered the shower and turned the faucets, rotating so his back protected her while the cold water heated. When the heavy streams were hot he bent at the waist and set her on her feet. She kept her arms around his neck, going onto her tiptoe.

“You know I feel the same way, don’t you?” she asked, staring at up him.

He caressed her cheek, his touch feathersoft. “Tell me.”

“My life started when I met you. I never knew it could be like this.”

“Now that you know, how do you feel?”

“Amazing. Safe.” She hesitated and said softly, “Loved.”

Bowing his head, he whispered, “I love you with everything I am.”

“That’s a relief.”

“That’s all you have to say?” He winced, acting wounded. “Are you going to make me shake the words out of you, woman? What does a man have to do for three little words?”

Reaching up, she rested her fingers on his jaw. He was joking but she was serious. Skimming her nails along the dark bristles that had grown, she peered into his eyes, wanting him to know what she had to say went deeper than words.

“I love you.”

A broad, heart-stopping smile spread across his face. She yelped when his arms went around her waist and hiked her into the air. He whipped her around, pressing her against the chilly shower tiles.

“Ask me for anything and I’ll give it to you.”

“Anything?

He nodded and she grinned. “You owe me a tattoo.”

“That’s right. I do.” He pulled away and gazed down her body, his eyes hovering over her breasts. “Any idea where you want it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see my entire body.”

“That’s too bad,” he murmured, voice deep. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Do you think you could help me decide?”

“Oh yeah.” The glide of his calloused hands over her rib cage made her tremble. “Hell yeah.”

She groaned when his mouth brushed her collarbone, his tongue darting out to dance along her skin. Her sex dampened, clenching as she imagined him lodged firmly inside her. They weren’t leaving this stall without some heavy hanky-panky but she didn’t care.

So what if the shower and food had to wait? She had a golden ticket to pure, unadulterated bliss. She’d be insane to pass that up.

Look out world, here we come.

All aboard the Jackson express.

Epilogue

Rachel bolted upright, gasping for breath, heart pounding frantically in her chest. She swept her arm across her nightstand, cursing as she tried to turn on the light and knocked her alarm clock to the floor. The bulb glowed when she flicked the switch, bringing her drab bedroom into focus.

He wasn’t here. It wasn’t real.

A dream. It was just a dream.

She threw the covers aside, uncaring that it was colder than hell.

The house she’d inherited from her father—a house she’d had to have her mother evicted from—was poorly constructed. The insulation wasn’t fit to house an animal inside, much less a person or family. Adding insult to injury, the roof needed to be replaced. The only real way to stay warm was to drink tons of hot chocolate, layer her clothing as thickly as possible and sleep beneath heavy blankets.

She returned the alarm clock to its proper place before she walked through her home. She turned on every light along the way. It was a silly habit, one she’d developed shortly after her father’s death. Maybe that was why she hated supernatural creatures so much. Bad things lived in the dark. Things that would snatch you up and eat you alive.

You can run but you can’t hide, Just Rachel.

“Piss off,” she snapped, wondering why in the hell she’d started having dreams about the arrogant, condescending and impossibly gorgeous werewolf she’d met at the tattoo shop. She didn’t trust men in general, which meant she sure as hell wouldn’t trust a member of the male populace who changed into an animal. Besides, he wasn’t her type.

Not your type? He’s a goddamn werewolf!

“Get a grip, Rachel,” she muttered, hating that she had resorted to talking to herself after spending too much time alone. “Make your chocolate fix and go to bed.”

Despite trying to focus on the task at hand, she kept envisioning Tall, Dark and Arrogant. In her dreams his face was covered in a thick, attractive shadow. His eyes were as she remembered—a vibrant shade of gold. With his T-shirt missing, clothed only in jeans and boots, she’d been able to see all of his tattoos. The intricate sleeves wound around the front and the back of his shoulders, creating one large pattern. The black ink suited his tanned skin, bringing attention to his muscular arms, broad shoulders and six-pack abs. Just below were the visible bones of his pelvis. Bones that created a sexy V that vanished beneath his jeans.

“Okay, that’s it.” She slammed a fist onto the counter. It was lust. Plain and simple. Nature was finally making its demands on her body. “Tomorrow I’m getting a vibrator. Enough’s enough.”

Once the hot chocolate was made she scurried to her bedroom, turning off the lights as she went. She placed the mug on the nightstand as she wrapped the blankets around her, grateful she’d decided to splurge on quality handmade quilts instead of cheaper comforters.

Sinking into the pillows, she brought the drink to her lips and her thoughts shifted to Chloe. If things were different she would have called her best friend and told her what was going on. It wasn’t unusual for them to call each other at weird times. As a matter of fact, they’d been known to spend hours on the phone talking about this and that.

A sharp pain lanced her chest.

Would Jackson resent early morning phone calls? Would he get pissed off if Chloe wanted to visit Rachel’s home for a girls movie night? Although they weren’t related by blood, the women were as close as sisters. They talked to each other almost every single day. Surely he wouldn’t try to come between them?

“If he does, I’ll shoot him,” she grumbled.

As usual, the hot chocolate was gone before she was ready. She always wanted more of the stuff. It was her one indulgence. The only thing she spent hard-earned money on. With an exhausted groan, she placed her mug on nightstand, turned off the light and sank into the bed.

It was dark, the night quiet.

She glanced at the window, trying not to think about the full moon. She really needed to get some sleep. The shop was always busy in the summer and winter. Tomorrow wasn’t going to be any different. Unless she sold the house and shop and moved—something she’d considered but hadn’t had the courage to do—this would forever be her life.

She closed her eyes, safe and sound in her snuggly warm bed, trying to return to the land of dreams. Mr. Tattoo Man was a coincidence. Nothing more. Just another weird thing that sometimes happened to people. Like déjà vu. Besides, if he showed up again she’d tell him to go fuck himself.

You can run but you can’t hide, Just Rachel.

Who the hell did he think he was? She wasn’t running? No way.

She grinned into her pillow, waiting for sleep to claim her. In dreams she could do whatever she wanted, which meant normal rules didn’t apply. As soon as she drifted off she’d search for a drink to throw directly into his face. After he was good and doused she’d tell him where to go and how to get there. If she was lucky, they’d be in a public place.

She focused on a location, choosing a bar down the road. It was always full of human patrons. Putting him in his place in front of mere mortals would be full of awesome, bordering on epic.

Now that would wipe the smile off his face.

About Aline Hunter

Aline Hunter is the alias of multi-published author J.A. Saare, who has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance anthologies and flash fiction contests. Her work has a notable dark undertone, which she credits to her love of old eighties horror films, tastes in music and choices in reading, and has been described as “full of sensual promise,” “gritty and sexy” and “a breath of fresh air.”

Currently she is penning multiple projects within the urban fantasy, erotic and contemporary, and paranormal romance categories.

Aline welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.