Chasing The Moon

Lunar Mates 3: Chasing the Moon

By Loribelle Hunt This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Lunar Mates 3: Chasing the Moon Copyright© 2006 Loribelle Hunt ISBN: 978-1-60088-087-2 Cover Artist: Sable Grey Editor: Leanne Salter All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Cobblestone Press, LLC www.cobblestone-press.com

Dedication As usual, to the wonderful editorial staff at Cobblestone. Thanks for making it shine Leanne. And to all my friends who listened to an insane amount of whining during the writing of this book and told me to shut up and get busy. Sara, Shelli, Crystal, Krissy, and Angie—it never would have been finished without the occasional kick in the rear. And a final thanks to all the fans of the series who contacted me wanting to know when Jackson’s story would be available. This one is really for y’all!

Prologue Jackson took one last long look around the community hall and walked out into the night. Heaven

and hell. His little slice of heaven—control over the Appalachian pack he’d been born into—paled in comparison to his hell—the loss of not one, but all three of his best friends. Because the old Alpha, Brant, died without a successor, the Council had been compelled to name a new one. It had come down between him and Darius. Darius lost. He wasn’t stupid enough to think Darius could stay, but he’d hoped Trey or Eric would. A small circle of men waited for him in the courtyard, and he paused. His best candidates for Beta and Enforcer were leaving in a few days, and he’d have to pick another set quickly. He didn’t want to be the sort of Alpha Brant had been; autocratic, controlling, and mired in the past. But it was a werewolf pack. He needed to move with speed and decisiveness to secure his place. Maybe he could exert his control more subtly than Brant, but it was still control. Despite that knowledge, he didn’t want to deal with it now. It was late, he was angry, and he wasn’t making any appointments outside in the dark. Thankfully, deciding how to deal with the situation was taken out of his hands when a big man stepped out of the shadows and spoke to the group. Trey. “I think pack business can be dealt with at a more civilized hour. Tomorrow.” Most wouldn’t need any more of an invitation to scatter; Trey scared the daylights out of almost everyone. “And you’re not in charge here, Hunter,” a snide voice said through the gloom. Wyatt. Jackson identified him easily. That one would be trouble. A handful waited nervously for him to nod his assent before leaving. He’d have to watch them. The ones who waited for direction from their Alpha before obeying their instincts could probably be used for the good of the pack. Wyatt was the last to slink off, though not out of deference to pack leadership. His objections to both Darius and Jackson were well known. Alone, he and Trey turned to the path that led to the big house, now his house. They walked the short trip in silence and entered the kitchen door. A small light above the stove lighted the room, giving off more than ample illumination for the two of them. He walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. “Beer?” “I think I will,” Trey answered. They sat across from each other at the large table and stared out the windows, occasionally tipping back bottles. “Any chance I can talk you into staying?” Trey snorted. “You know I don’t belong here.” He frowned. That was probably true. Trey needed solitude more than most of them. It was hard to find seclusion in a pack that numbered over three hundred strong. “Don’t ask Eric either. You know Darius is going to need all the help he can get.” Anger hardened Jackson’s jaw. Like I don’t need help? Darius was taking the best talent with him. “Which leaves me in a bind. No Beta. No Enforcer. No one who stands out in the crowd, either.” Trey stood and got a couple more beers from the fridge. When he returned to the table, he flipped the chair around and rested his arms across the back. “There were a few in that gaggle tonight who didn’t run when I showed up,” he said sarcastically, saluting Jackson with his beer before taking a long swallow. Instead of the mocking answer that hovered on his lips, he shut up and listened. Like any true Alpha, he hated taking direction, but Trey saw things in people no one else did. He had a gift for seeing strengths and weaknesses and motivation. “Take Billy Cagle for instance. Young kid. Remember how scrawny he was as a cub?” “Yeah.” Billy was the youngest in the crowd, twenty-seven if he remembered right. “Smart kid,” Trey continued. “Tough as nails.” “Surely you aren’t suggesting I use him as an Enforcer.” Jackson laughed. Billy probably was tough enough. It had been years since he’d seen the kid lose a fight. But he was young and untried and, frankly, too good with people. Trey grinned. “No. I’m Enforcer material.” He didn’t go on and Jackson sat back and thought. Beta? He shook his head. “He’s too young to be Beta.”

Trey shrugged. “Your decision, of course. He’s smart. He’s loyal. People like him. No one wants to fight him.” He paused. “And he’s been working with Eric since he was a teenager.” Eric was the perfect Beta. He had all the qualities Trey attributed to Billy Cagle. The pack had known for years that Eric would end up Beta. The question had always been who would be Alpha. Eric had spent a lot of time with the boy. Training him? There was a time—yesterday in fact—he would have just picked up the phone and called Eric to ask his opinion. That was out of the question now, though. He scowled. It was a matter of pride. “What’s Eric’s opinion of him?” Trey rolled his eyes. “Never a bad word.” Huh. Eric was a tough master. If the kid worked well for Eric, that was good enough for him. He hoped. “Anyone else stand out in that crowd?” he asked dryly. Trey took another swallow of beer. “If I had to pick an Enforcer, it would be Abel Williamson or Clint Osborn.” “Why?” While Trey answered, Jackson tried to memorize what he heard. He figured this was his last excellent counsel for a good long time.

Chapter One Summer found one of the small empty tables and slipped her shoes off. She hated wearing heels, but it was kind of hard to avoid at her cousins’ weddings. She wasn’t thrilled to be here anyway, so the shoes just served to piss her off. Oh, she was happy for Meg and Tara. Really, she was. But with them both marrying werewolves, and their own werewolf in the family tree, it made her nervous as hell to be in the room. She ’d been watching for one in particular all night, but Jackson had stuck to his promise and not shown up. She felt a little guilt at that and squashed it down. She’d only met the man one time, but the way he’d looked at her… No thanks. The matching leg shackles were not for her. The reception was winding down, and she could now make her escape without hurting anyone’s feelings. If she could just track down her cousins to say goodbye, she could then swing by Tara’s and grab Tinnie’s journals and be on her way. Both couples had disappeared a while ago, though. She snorted. She knew exactly what they were doing; it was just a question of where. “Excuse me. Summer?” She turned to see a tall handsome werewolf standing behind her. He looked friendly enough, and he was wearing a wedding band. Something about him was familiar. “Yes?” Slipping the hated heels on, she stood to face him. He held his hand out. “I’m Eric. I work for Darius.” Nodding, she shook his hand. “His Beta.” He grinned. “And here I was, under the impression you spooked easy.” Her eyebrows both shot up. She did not spook easily. She just recognized the danger one werewolf in particular posed to her freedom. “That’s not exactly how I would phrase it.” He laughed. “Eventually Jackson is going to catch up with you, you know.” She shrugged. Not if she could help it. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “Okay. So Darius asked me to make sure you get to your plane tonight, and Tara left a box of books for you. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll give you a lift over there.” So they hadn’t forgot. She was dying to dive into her grandmother’s journals. When the eccentric old benefactor that ran the non-profit she currently worked for offered her the company jet and lodge as a bonus, she’d jumped at the chance. Two secluded weeks in the Smokies should give her ample time to study Tinnie’s books. She smiled, probably her first real one of the day for anyone other than Meg and Tara. “I just need the box. I made arrangements to leave my car rental at the airport.” “Sure. You want to get it now?” “That would be great.” She followed. As soon as she stepped outside, the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. She had the feeling she was being hunted and let her senses flare to isolate the danger. It faded away instantly, and she frowned. Maybe she’d imagined it. The box was quickly transferred and she was off to the tiny airport that served the local area. Parking in the lot, she grinned at the sight of the small gleaming jet on the runway. Tiny airport, but big enough to handle most corporate jets. She pulled her bag from the trunk and slung the strap over her shoulder, then lifted the box, nudging the lid shut with her elbow. As she approached the terminal—though giving it the lofty name was a stretch—the door opened for her. The long building had a car rental counter at one end, a ticket counter at the other, and a small snack bar crammed in between. Doors on the opposite wall led out the boarding area. “You must be Summer Lambert. Let me take those for you,” the man said, reaching for the box and her bag. She almost didn’t let the cardboard carton go, but relented after looking into the kind face of the older gentleman. “I’m Clint Osborn,” he said. “Your pilot.” She blinked. There was something off about the man’s aura. She didn’t get an impression of danger, but he was definitely hiding something. Shrugging it off, she returned his smile. People were entitled to their secrets after all. “Nice to meet you, Clint. I just need to drop the car key off and we can get going.” “No problem,” he answered. “Take you time. I’ll take your things out to the plane.” She let him take her bag and the box, and then she hurried to drop off the car key. Outside, the plane’s engines were whirring, and she again got the impression something wasn’t quite right. She shook it off and chalked it up to fatigue when she couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. As soon as she got to the lodge, she was going to sleep for twenty-four hours. Since meeting Jackson several months ago, she’d thrown herself into work, staying so busy that exhaustion rode her hard. Mr. Hardy had offered her the use of the jet and the lodge as a bonus for finishing a project early, but she suspected he’d done it knowing how badly she needed a break. Smiling, she wondered if she was finally going to meet the old man in person and started the climb up the steps to the plane. The inside was small but plush, with a couch along one wall and two captain’s chairs on the other. The cockpit was to her left, and she assumed the door to her right led to a bathroom and maybe a small galley. The floors were carpeted in a thick pile, and she slipped her shoes off with a sigh. The cockpit door opened and a young man stepped out. He grinned, walked over and extended his hand. “Summer. I’m Billy Cagle.” “Hey, Billy,” she answered, pleased to finally meet one of the anonymous names from the other side of her email account. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” “Yes, it is. We’ll be taking off soon. Can I get you something first? Something to eat? A drink?” He seemed eager to please, so she hated to say no. “Sure. Something to drink would be great.” He walked past her through the cabin and she trailed him, wondering what was behind the other door. It opened onto a narrow hall with a restroom on the left side and galley at the end. Opening the small refrigerator, he poked around. “Wine?”

She nodded in response. “Red or white?” Definitely not red. After the champagne at the reception, she’d end up with a raging migraine. “White is good.” She looked at the door to her side and thought she’d better use the facilities before they took off. While Billy uncorked the wine, she stepped in and splashed water on her face. Leaning over, she took a good look in the mirror. Makeup barely concealed the black circles under her eyes, and fine lines marred her forehead. No wonder he was offering her wine. She looked tired and stressed out. When she came out, he was waiting for her in the cabin and handed her the glass. She took a sip as she walked to the couch. Sitting, she tucked her legs up under her. She really ought to change; she’d ruin the dress. With a mental shrug, she gulped more of the wine. It wasn’t like she was planning to wear it again. Lifting the glass for another drink, she was surprised to find it empty. Amused, she looked up and caught Billy’s intent expression, as if he was waiting for something. She should be curious about that, but she was suddenly very tired. Standing, she swayed on her feet, and he caught her shoulders, letting go as soon as she stilled. “Steady there. I think you drank that a little too fast.” She shook her head, trying to clear the growing haze and puzzle this out. Then she caught site of something under the open collar of his shirt. A small silver disc. It threw off a hazy vibe, interfering with her senses. She hadn’t seen one in more years than she could remember. “That’s a witch’s talisman. Why would you wear one of those, Billy?” She swayed, and he again caught her shoulders. A shadow blocked the open cabin door. Why was it still open? “I think she’s feeling a little woozy, boss.” Boss? Was this Mr. Hardy? She leaned around Billy and squinted, but her eyes didn’t seem to be working right. The shadow moved closer and took over, plucking the glass out of her hand and passing it to Billy. “I’ve got it from here,” he said with Jackson’s voice. She’d never forget that voice. It haunted her dreams and kept her up nights. But how could he be here? She struggled to think, to force her eyes to focus on him. Yep. It was definitely Jackson. “What are you doing here, Jackson?” Her mouth felt like cotton, and she had to force the words out. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re gonna be fine.” He looked over his shoulder and spoke to Billy. “Shut the door and tell Clint we’re ready to take off.” Her mind cleared a moment, and she realized what must have happened. She sat down hard on the couch, and he moved closer, reaching a hand out to balance her. Glaring, she shifted away from him. “You drugged me.” The moment of lucidity didn’t last long, though, and she stifled a yawn once the words were out, her eyelids sinking closed no matter how hard she fought against it. Before the drug took her, she felt him pull her into his lap and cradle her in his arms like a child. She couldn’t find the will to struggle. Besides, it was kind of nice to stop fighting and sink into his warmth. He smoothed the hair away from her face. She wasn’t sure if his response was real or imagined. “You didn’t give me much choice, sweetheart.” ***** Finally he had her where he wanted her. There would no doubt be hell to pay for it. She shifted on his lap and the firm globes of her ass rubbed against his painfully hard cock. They’d been in the air a few hours, were close to home now, but he hadn’t been able to make himself release her. With the discomfort, there was also an extreme sense of satisfaction. He had her. He would keep her. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the rest and closed his eyes. Somehow. It was a stroke of genius really. When he’d inherited the Alpha position from Brant and began

wading through all the assorted pack businesses, he’d been amazed and thrilled to find one was a non-profit for studying wolves. And the major grant recipient? Summer Lambert. It was easy to give her enough work to exhaust herself, to offer the company lodge and plane for a reward for the hard work, to be there when she took him up on the offer. Explaining that he was the mysterious benefactor? Not so easy. The rest of his plan made perfect sense—to him. He suspected it would be impossible to make her see the necessity though. And the fact that everyone she knew was complicit? She might not ever forgive any of them. Trey assured him the spell for breaking the bond was destroyed, and Meg promised the talismans would work to obscure her sense of his kind nearby. He hated to start their life with deception, but the woman had left him no choice, had she? They were approaching the landing strip, and he had to move quickly to bind them. It would take one bite from him, one delicate rending of her flesh, to combine the enzymes in his saliva with her blood and tie her to him forever. His canines sharpened at the thought. His cock, already hard and throbbing, jerked in response. He ground his teeth to resist the urge. His biggest fear was not being able to control the beast. If he bit her here, on the plane, could he rein in his wolf nature long enough to get her in the house and out of the public areas? He wouldn’t have a choice, and he needed to remove her choices while she didn’t have them, here, unconscious in his lap. With a decision firm in his mind, he brushed her long hair to one side, exposing the creamy column of her neck. He lowered his lips to her, first dropping a light kiss then sucking the skin into his mouth. Sweet. Tangy. His. He inhaled deeply. The stirring of her arousal mixed with her own unique scent even evident in sleep. He sank his teeth into the soft spot under her ear, right on the side where everyone could see it. He felt the moment the chemicals in his body combined with hers, felt the bond create and snap between them. When he was sure it was done, he lifted his head. With his thumb, he caught the trail of blood that trickled toward her shoulder. She stirred in response, and he groaned, forcing his hands away from the zipper at her back. Billy stuck his head out the cockpit door. “We’re landing, Jackson.” He nodded. “See you on the other side.” A slight shaking in the floor indicated the landing gear was going down while the plane swung around to line up with the private runway. Billy would have a car waiting for the short drive to the house. It could have taken minutes or hours; he was oblivious. When the younger man stepped out of the other room and arched his eyebrows in question, Jackson realized they’d landed. He stood with Summer and walked down the ramp, motioning to Billy to get her things. At the car he settled in the passenger side, and Billy drove them home. There were several cars out front when they arrived, and he snorted in disbelief. Though most of the pack didn’t see it that way, there were actually some things more important than petty grievances. He was beginning to see the sense in Brant’s iron control policy. And that irritated the fuck out of him. Not for the first time he wondered if Brant had evolved into the self-absorbed asshole they’d all known and hated, or if the pack had made him that way. Jackson was on his way to following in his predecessor’s footsteps. Carrying Summer, who was still out cold, he walked up the front steps. Billy held the door open for him and they shared a silent communication. How he’d ever thought he could live without this Beta in particular was beyond him. He walked into the foyer and headed straight for the stairs, ignoring all the voices clamoring for attention behind him. He heard Billy’s booming voice call for silence and ordered the area cleared until morning. “It can wait, people,” he shouted. “Tomorrow. Now clear out.” Jackson ignored all the drama and walked up the stairs, going down the long hall to the spacious master suite at the end. Once inside, he kicked the door closed behind him and laid her gently on the bed. He stepped back and looked down at her for a minute. She was perfect sprawled across their bed, her long black hair like a fan around her and her clothes an enticing tight fit, showcasing curves and soft skin his fingers itched to explore. Sliding into bed behind her, he pulled the zipper down, trying to quickly and efficiently remove

her clothes. It was impossible not to notice the body he bared, but he gritted his teeth and fought his urges. Once that was finished he pulled his shirt over his head and slid off his jeans, glad for once not to be going commando. He needed some barrier between them. Pulling the sheet up, he gathered her in his arms and covered them, hoping to catch a few hours’ sleep. He’d need the rest to face her wrath.

Chapter Two She felt different on some deep level her muddled mind couldn’t fathom when she awoke, so it took a few minutes for the arms banding her body to register. One wrapped around her waist, settling on her hip, and the other scooped under her torso, cupping her breast. Male arms, thick, well-muscled, and awakening an unfamiliar yearning. She occasionally took a lover. She never stayed the night. But this somehow felt…right—for the half a second before her brain kicked into working gear. Then the memory of Jackson and what he’d done filled her mind. She struggled to free herself. She found herself on her back, wrists pinned in his grip next to her head with his erection pressed into her pelvis. He growled low in his throat when she pushed against him, and she tried desperately to suppress her rush of arousal. She didn’t want this, right? Didn’t want him? Her body certainly had other ideas. She should feel terror or rage trapped beneath him. Or, at the very least, distrust. His icy blue eyes glowed down at her with command and passion. He rocked his hips against her, his hard cock only kept from her entrance by the thin underwear he wore. Her pussy clenched in response. Growing hot and wet, her body seemed to have a mind of its own, and her hips thrust up against him. It was so unlike her and, with lust filling the corners of her mind, she had a hard time puzzling it out. She’d wanted him when they met, but she’d gotten over it, hadn’t she? Never mind the dreams. Everyone dreamed about completely inappropriate partners. This was beyond want. The longer he lay pressed against her, the more need crawled through her body. When his mouth lowered to hers, his tongue tracing her contours and silently begging entry, she thought she’d explode on the spot. Her lips parted on a groan, and his tongue dipped inside. Gentle. Insistent. He outlined her teeth before his tongue dueled with hers. He tasted like caramel and coffee, and the exposure was too brief. Then his lips were following the angle of her jaw to her ear. His rough tongue lapped the skin down her neck to the super sensitive hollow between her nape and shoulder. The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to her pussy. Clarity struck her with a similar force, and she struggled against him. Lifting his head, his gaze bore into hers. “You bit me,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “Let me up, Jackson.” Even as she said the words, he ground against her, and she felt a fresh flood of warmth between her legs. It isn’t real. It’s just crazy werewolf chemistry. “We are way past the point of no return, Summer.” How the hell did he get his underwear off? She realized her hands were free and put them on his shoulders, prepared to push him away. This wasn’t happening. Then why were her fingers itching to caress him? “No way, Jackson. You people are a lot of things, but I’ve never heard y’all condone force.

Or…or rape.” She stuttered past the ridiculous attack. She was angry and hurt, but there couldn’t be much doubt that she wanted him. His jaw hardened and his own anger flared in response. “Don’t be so sure of that, sweetheart. I met you months ago. I’ve known for months you’re my mate, and you knew it then, too. But you ran and hid. Do you have any idea what that does to a werewolf? I gave you as much time as I had to give, damn it.” He leaned his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. His cock nestled between them bumped her clit, and she struggled to think instead of feel. He was right. She’d known and avoided. He’d obviously let her. She wasn’t exactly in a position to think through the whole situation now. He looked up and met her gaze. “God, Summer, I don’t think I can take you putting me off anymore. This is dangerous to everyone, especially you.” Why did his plea touch her heart so deeply? Was it just the bond or something else? He was giving her a choice, and she made the decision without thinking. Reaching one hand between them, she curled her fingers around his cock. He gasped and thrust into her palm, while she matched his rhythm, tightening her grip more when he groaned his approval. “Jesus,” he moaned. “Harder.” She gripped him harder and ran her other hand up his side, lingering over his many scars. Some felt new and she wondered what had been going on in his pack. She reached his pecs and flicked one nail over a hard nipple. He was big and broad, an exquisite specimen of the male of his species. How often had she dreamed of him taking her, holding her down, and refusing to let her hold back? His body exceeded expectations. She wondered if the rest of him would too. He pulled her hand off his dick and laced their fingers together, then leaned over and took her mouth in a bruising kiss. With the other he guided himself inside her. She held her breath as he filled her, stretched her. He grabbed her other hand and held both above her head on the pillow. How did he know exactly what she needed? Wrapping her legs around his waist, she prepared to hang on for a wild ride and titled her head back to lick the cleft in his chin. She loved the rasp of his stubble-covered face, how it contrasted with his smooth body. He moved in slow, deep thrusts that hit her G-spot every time. As turned on as she was, by the third contact she was keening, an orgasm ripping through her. Her body seemed to clench and contract around him, unwilling to release his as he thrust through her resistance. She was in the throes of her second orgasm when he came with a roar that echoed in her ears. It touched a cord in her soul. Something she recognized in her sated state as the bond that stretched between them. Releasing her hands, Jackson rolled to his side and pulled her close to him. My God, the woman is going to kill me. Struggling to regain his breath and regulate his heartbeat, he buried his face in her hair. He wanted to enjoy the moment—it would be time to face the music soon enough. He felt a twinge of guilt for the deception involved in getting her here, for binding them without her consent. Was this a kind of rape? Her body was willing, but mentally? Emotionally? She was so not with him. Worse, he’d brought her into the pack at a dangerous time. Forces moved against him and as much as they tried, he, Billy, and Clint weren’t able to determine exactly from where the danger came. He shifted and a sharp pain in his side—the wound from the last challenge—made itself known. Thank God for the healing powers of the werewolf or where would he be now? Six feet under probably. Summer turned in his arms and her hand came up to the talisman around his neck. He couldn’t read her expression, and that worried him. A tomblike quiet fell over the room. “Meg, I’m betting,” she said. He sighed. “You backed me into a corner, Summer. And your cousins just want to see you happy.” He apparently struck a raw nerve because defensively, she said, “I’m happy. Who said I wasn’t happy? That’s ridiculous.” He snorted. “Yeah, that’s why you’ve spent the last few months practically begging for more work.” She closed her fist around the talisman. She gasped and tugged at it. Thank God, for titanium. “You’re Hardy,” she accused.

“Guilty.” With a small sound of disgust, she released her grip then jumped up from the bed to pace across the room. He grinned, arms crossed under his head, and watched. Her breasts, round and pert, nipples hard in the cool air, bounced as she walked, and her long black hair swirled around her waist with each pivot. He couldn’t help the growl of appreciation that rumbled up from his chest. He quickly evened his features to a bland expression when she stopped to glare at him. A soft knock rapped against the door on the opposite wall, and Billy’s voice rang out. “Boss? You available?” He sighed and stood up. “Just a second, Billy.” As he strode to the armoire that spread across most of one wall, he noticed Summer’s eyes widen. In appreciation? God, he hoped so. He certainly appreciated her walking around naked. Grabbing a long-sleeved flannel shirt, he tossed it to her and turned to find a faded pair of Levi’s. After pulling them on, he turned to see her still watching him, the shirt clutched in front of her chest. “Babe, much as I love that gorgeous body, we’re fixing to have company. I’d hate to have to rip Billy’s eyes out for ogling you.” He tried to make it a joke but couldn’t quite keep the edge out of his voice. She covered her startled look quickly and shrugged into the shirt, fingers fumbling as she hurried to button it up. Looking up, she met his gaze. “Where are my things?” “Knowing Billy, in the office next door waiting to come in.” He laughed. “That kid is always one step ahead of the rest of us.” She arched her eyebrows and waited for him to continue, but he just shook his head and turned the doorknob. Stepping back, he let her walk through first, the smell of French Vanilla coffee assaulting his nostrils. Summer accepted the steaming mug Billy handed her and eyed them both warily over its edge. Jackson couldn’t help but smile. Suspicious to the end. “No, it’s not drugged,” he said. “You must have mentioned at some point that you liked that stuff. Billy here is a details man.” Instead of replying, she walked around the large room, fingers trailing the edge of his spacious desk before she settled in a leather wing chair by the window and stared out. He cocked his head to the side, anger stirring through him. Was he getting the silent treatment? Billy looked between the two of them and opened his mouth to speak. Jackson shook his head, and he snapped it shut. At the sideboard near the door, he poured a cup of hot tea and carried it back to the desk. Billy took his usual place before him, folding his tall lanky body into the empty chair, feet widespread and hands resting across the seat’s arms. Jackson sighed and took a long swallow of the mint tea. Ah, the morning routine. The calm before the storm. Billy gave him time to drain the cup and refill it before diving in. “There was another incident while we were gone. Three of McGarvey’s herd, and he’s blaming you for not catching this guy. Grumbling about incompetence. Actually, I heard quite a bit of that from the usual suspects this morning.” Billy shifted and rested one ankle on the opposite knee. In a man who was normally very still, Jackson recognized it as a sign of agitation. He frowned and waited in the silence for Billy to go on. When he didn’t, Jackson answered, “They’re welcome to challenge me if they think they can do better.” Sputtered coughing erupted from the chair by the window. Jumping to his feet, he rounded the corner of his desk but was brought up short by the sight of her. Her eyes glowed and she radiated anger as she stalked toward him. “Are you okay, Summer?” he asked cautiously, forcibly reminded that this was no ordinary woman. The granddaughter of a powerful witch and a Hunter werewolf, she had plenty of power of her own. He held his ground, though the temptation to step back was strong. He was Alpha here, damn it. He wouldn’t be intimidated by a witch, especially one that was his mate. Billy edged nervously closer, but he warned him off with a flick of his wrist. Let them have this out now. Whatever this was. When she reached him, she lifted his arm and ran her fingers along his most recently acquired

scar. Despite her anger, the fingers were feather soft, and his body responded. She noticed, cutting her gaze to the bulge in his jeans, then glaring back up at him. They seemed to telegraph her message for her. And if he read it right, it said, no way bubba. When she spoke, her voice was low and husky, a thread of violence in the controlled tone. “When did this happen?” He sighed. “Last week.” “And this one?” Her hand rested on an older scar across his back. “Last month,” he answered, covering her hand with his and pulling it around to another across his chest. “And this one was a couple of months ago.” “This is why you didn’t come after me. You couldn’t without risking control of the pack.” He gritted his teeth and bit back a sharp retort. How dare she question his control of the pack? She’d done her damnedest not to be involved with him, with them, and now she had an opinion? “This is a way of life for us. You’ll get used to it.” Her eyes blazed at him and narrowed. “No, it’s not. I study wolves, remember? Wolves and werewolves. An early challenge or two is typical. This late in the game? Not so normal,” she ended sarcastically. The thing that glared like a neon challenge in that statement was study werewolves. What the fuck did she mean by that? His hackles rose and a growl rumbled deep in his throat. He felt calmness move through him as he developed purpose and turned the tables on her. Something flickered in her eyes, maybe fear, and she took a step backwards. He followed and they repeated the dance until her back was to the wall and his body pressed tight against hers. Despite his anger, his cocked throbbed at the contact. After he dealt with his rebellious mate, Billy would have to leave for an hour or two. “Study werewolves?” he asked, voice deceptively composed. It wouldn’t do to let her see the storm that raged through him at her words. “Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?” Try a lot dangerous. If anyone caught her… He shuddered. She could have been lost to him forever. That fear must have shown on his face. Her eyes widened, and she reached a hand up to smooth his brow. Her hand trembled slightly, and she seemed to shrink into the wall. “Not since I met you,” she whispered bitterly. “I was too afraid you might have people looking for me.” She shifted against the wall. Her pelvis lifted against his and the smell of her arousal flooded his senses. Amazing. His cock actually got harder. Searching her eyes, he pushed back into her, wondering if she had made the move on purpose, to try and distract him, or was she simply fidgeting under his scrutiny. Behind him, Billy cleared his throat. Jackson jerked his head around and met his gaze. His expression seemed to telegraph one message loud and clear—they had work to do. Sighing, Jackson slowly peeled away from his alluring, though less than welcoming, mate and returned to his desk. She clung to the wall for a moment before making a cautious approach and took the seat next to Billy. Her face was flushed, breathing less even than usual, but otherwise she appeared to take the encounter in stride. His molars ground again. And why wouldn’t she, if she had made it a point to study werewolves? He glared at her over the desk. “We’ll discuss that study in more depth later,” he promised. She actually had the gall to roll her eyes. He took a deep, cleansing breath. Later. He’d deal with her later. It was enough that he had her and she was listening for the moment, right? Actually, that alone is a hell of a lot of progress. “Did you go out to McGarvey’s?” he asked. This time it was Billy’s jaw that hardened as he nodded a reply. “Nothing. But the place had been pretty well trampled by the time I got there. In a pack this size, it’s not unusual to be unable to pick out every smell.” “Maybe,” Jackson answered. “But there have been too many scenes where none of us could pick out the scent of the attacker. It has to be one of the pack.”

Summer’s teeth caught her bottom lip, the action bringing his already heated blood to a boil before he realized she did it to hold back a comment. “What?” he snapped. “How many incidents? How long has this been going on?” He debated how much to tell her, and she glared at him. “You brought me here. I might as well know what I’m in for.” Surprised at her perception, he fingered the talisman around his neck and wondered if she could read minds. She rolled her eyes again, this time adding a head shake. “Yes, it works. That doesn’t mean I can ’t read your expression.” If he was so easy to read he had some serious work to do. More than likely, though, she was just attuned to him already. That thought pleased him more than the alternative. Impatient, she prodded him. “Well?” He looked over and caught Billy hiding a smirk. Just you wait, Billy Cagle. Your time will come. “From the beginning,” he answered Summer. “Always on one of the outlying properties.” He explained that the pack owned several thousand acres of wooded land high in the Smoky Mountains. The attacks were always on livestock, never humans or werewolves. Definitely not the behavior of a rogue. More likely it was someone from another pack trying to sow enough discord to weaken his hold and challenge him. Or maybe his own pack. Someone who didn’t stand out. It would be very tricky for an outsider to attempt to take over such a large pack, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. He left that part out of his explanation to her. She didn’t seem all that sure of his abilities as it was. With a heavy sigh she stood and walked to the window. Her face was in profile as she looked out over the back deck, wearing a brooding expression. Silence stretched over the room while he and Billy waited her out. “Sounds like you could use the services of a good witch,” she finally said. She turned to look over her shoulder, meeting his gaze, a calculating look in her eyes. What was she up to? His pulse quickened at the challenge. He should be angry or upset that she wasn’t falling right in line with his plans. Instead he was intrigued. Maybe a little charmed. Definitely challenged. She wouldn’t be easy to win over but damn, would she be worth the effort. He raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?” She shrugged one shoulder, a casual gesture, as if she were asking for the simplest thing in the world. The action put his guard up. “I just want to continue my studies. I can do that just as easily here as anywhere else. But to do it I need to be able to wander around freely. With my senses, you never know what I might learn.” His reaction was immediate and instinctive. Hell no! But he watched her as she delivered the suggestion and saw she expected it. He managed to bite his tongue on the retort, simply shaking his head in denial while he tried to frame something she would recognize as a reasonable, coherent response. He couldn’t come up with one. “No.” “No? Just…no? Surely you can do better than that, Jackson.” She stood in front of the window and put her fisted hands on her hips, the glow from the rising sun creating a halo around her. Glowering at him, she radiated outrage, and he was amazed to feel his first sense of rightness in weeks. He smirked at her. “Just no.” He stood and walked around to lean against the front corner of his desk, glancing at Billy and nodding toward the hall door. “Billy. I’ll catch up with you later.” He took the hint and hurried from the room. Probably wise enough to get out of the way before the she really sees red. Thin lipped, Summer watched Billy’s retreat. When the door clicked shut, she paced forward and stopped in front of him. His breath caught in his throat. She was magnificent. Beautiful and brilliant and passionate. He reached out and slid his hands up and down her arms, a light

stroke designed to sooth. “Are you so angry because you actually care about what happens to me?” he asked softly. She snorted and tried to step away, but he held her shoulders. Tugging her closer, he watched as her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, a nervous gesture that drove him insane. When she was close enough, he leaned in and nipped at the spot her tongue had traced. As much as he savored her taste, it was the quickening in her pulse that he responded to most—the knowledge that despite her objections, her body was his. He would find a way to convince the rest of her. Later.

Chapter Three Way to resist him, Summer, she thought sarcastically. Things were going much too fast. The past twenty-four hours—less actually—was one long roller coaster ride. She was off balance, out of control, and she hated it. She’d gone from successfully avoiding Jackson to capture. Though it went far beyond the garden variety kidnapping when he created the mate bond. The sexual chemistry was nearly overwhelming, but she expected it. The emotional pull and intellectual curiosity threw her for a loop. Those were byproducts of the bond, right? God, she hoped so, or she was in real trouble. Spying the box containing Tinnie’s journals in the corner, she silently cursed her cousin. Tara had held the key—the spell that could break a mate bond—and destroyed it. With her limited casting abilities, Summer knew she wouldn’t be able to recreate it. Maybe the journals would have another way. It wasn’t until she tried to turn to begin that search that she realized Jackson still held her. While she’d been lost in thought, his arms slid around her waist. When she looked up, he was watching her with an amused expression. “So much for the uncontrollable passions of a mate bond.” His joking tone rekindled her irritation, and she pushed against his waist to break free. He winced and let her go when one of her hands brushed against his recent wound. She paced the room, sensing him studying her with all of the intensity of his wolf nature. The small coin talisman he wore threw a haze across her witch senses, but a new set of senses was awakening. In all her years of studying werewolves, she hadn’t realized how strong the psychic connection was between a mated pair. It was probably enhanced by her natural abilities. The problem was that with the talisman between them, she couldn’t pick apart what she was feeling. For instance, the constant challenges awakened a marrow-deep anger in her she hadn’t known she was capable of. That was a surprise and it scared her. Was she picking up Jackson’s anger or was it her own? She stopped pacing and stood in front of the window, taking in the winter landscape. These mountains had always spoken to her, and she felt a rush in her blood that seemed to whisper home. The house sat atop a mountain. With the trees around it bare, the vast panorama of the Great Smoky Mountains spread before her. She could see for miles. Peaks and valleys, roads, and a speck of a village off in the distance, a winding river, green pines, and always the white mist that gave the range its name. She was drawn to the view over and over; the peacefulness outside so at odds with the storm that raged within her. It did such a good job of settling her nerves that she didn’t even flinch when Jackson came up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. Draping her long hair over one shoulder, he started a

gentle kneading on stiff muscles. She let her head fall forward and moaned softly. His fingers were magic, instinctively giving just the right amount of dig into the sore areas of her upper back and brushing gently, teasingly over the column of her neck. Her body, which had been in a low level state of arousal since they entered the office, flared into life. He knew it, too. One hand dipped down the front of the shirt to feather over her nipple. It pebbled into a painful point at his touch and, while the dampness between her legs grew, she faced her dilemma head on. She knew a dozen werewolves and their mates and, without fail, they shared the same beginning. Were sees woman, were claims woman without the slightest thought or consideration for what she wants. Usually it worked out, but she’d seen some very bad matches. Matches that were obviously Fate’s idea of a big cosmic joke. A little getting to know you time beforehand might have prevented those disasters. Hey, you never know, right? One thing she’d discovered in her research was that a werewolf could bond with any woman, despite what their mythology told them. There was no magic formula. What if Jackson had screwed up? What if they were a terrible match and he’d doomed them to her grandparents’ fate? Her body tensed up again at the thought. Groaning, Jackson stopped his ministrations and rested his chin on top of her head. “How long is the silent treatment going to last? I can’t start to make this better if you won’t talk to me, Summer.” She bit back a laugh. He was worried about her refusing to talk to him? He didn’t want her for conversation in the first place. She spun around to tell him as much but the words stuck in her throat. To judge by the look on his face, he was dead serious. Great. How do I deal with this? She shook her head. “I’m not. I’m just used to working things through on my own, and you have to admit there’s a lot to deal with here.” “Well get un-used to it,” he said gruffly. “You aren’t alone anymore.” She felt a curious wrenching in her heart at his words. The long buried sorrow at being left alone, orphaned as a young teenager, arose. She spared a moment for it, closing her eyes against the painful memory of her parents’ deaths and the dysfunctional adolescence in her grandmother’s house. Jackson’s hands were on her again, his warmth stealing into her soul like a thief in the night. “What is it, baby?” he asked softly. Forcing a small smile, she shrugged, unconsciously leaning closer to him. “Old memories. Nothing important.” She leaned her forehead against his chest, amazed at how hot his naked torso was despite the cool room. Her hands crept up the smooth expanse of his back, and she heard a hitch in his breathing. Suddenly the last thing in the world she wanted was to talk. Turning her head to the side, she found his nipple with her tongue, circling it lightly before flicking over the hard nub. He groaned. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working.” Her laugh sounded low and husky to her ears. Sexy. Sultry. Words she’d never used to describe herself. As confused as she was about the future—their future—she was surprised he brought it out in her. But the major benefit in the situation was apparently the revival of her dormant sex life. It was a start. “A little distraction is exactly what we need,” she whispered. She continued exploring his body with her tongue, swirling it over both his nipples before inching downward. Dropping to her knees and edging lower, she licked old scars and new, outlined the hard ridges of his abdomen, circled his belly button. She caught and held her breath when her fingers paused over the snap of his jeans. Was she going this far? Looking up, she watched his face and knew she was. His jaw was hard, his light blue eyes glowing down at her. Breath fast and shallow, he made no demands. Maybe that would come later, if this odd new relationship changed to one of trust. For now, his gaze seemed to say he’d take whatever she offered. It was as if he was trying to give her back some of the choice he’d stolen. Summer popped the snap open and eased the zipper down. She slid his jeans down to the floor, and he kicked them off. Breathing out a sigh of admiration, she let her gaze wander up his legs. He was well muscled, but lean and now completely naked. In the rush earlier, he’d skipped underwear. She had

a new appreciation for going commando. Leaning forward, she inhaled his musky, male scent. Darting her tongue out before she could chicken out, she licked him from sac to head, swirling her tongue over the slit that wept there. He moaned. A long low sound that made her core tingle and her pussy cream. She fought back a squeal of triumph. Why hadn’t she ever tried this before? The still functioning part of her brain whispered that it was the bond, but she shoved it away. She’d deal with that later. Right now she only wanted to enjoy this newfound feeling of sex appeal. Wrapping her hand around the base, she eased her lips over the head of his penis. His hips jerked once, but he held himself still. Her estimation of him rose, and she set about exploring his contours. Sucking on the head like a lollipop, she let her hand slide up and down his length. Her grip grew harder and faster as she discovered a comfortable rhythm. He growled low in his throat, and she released the suction, afraid it was too much. Did she hurt him? Peeking up at him, she decided not. His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched. Pulling his cock farther into her mouth, she bobbed her head up and down its length. He stretched her mouth, and she was afraid she would reach her own limits before he came. Abruptly the decision was out of her control. He pulled away, making a popping sound as he exited her mouth, and then jerked her to her feet. The woman was going to kill him. The last thing he expected from Summer Lambert today was a blowjob, but there was she was on her knees, mouth wrapped around him, and about to rock his world. As much as Jackson welcomed her enthusiasm, he had to make sure she understood this was a reciprocal relationship. Even if it did, in fact, kill him. So he forced himself to pull away from her and got her on her feet. Now what, genius? He grunted. Like he didn’t know what to do with a willing woman? Picking her up, he set her on the edge of his desk and went to work on the buttons of his old shirt. Fingers shaking, it was slow work. The hell with this. Taking the bottom edges in each hand, he ripped upward. The buttons popped, flying through the air, and her husky laugh teased his senses. His wolf howled for release; it wanted the woman now. Dropping his gaze, he took in her pose. Sitting on the desk, knees spread wide with the shirt hanging open and exposing her hard nipples, hands braced flat behind her, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He leaned forward. With one hand splayed across her back, the other found her pussy warm and wet. Sighing with relief, he stepped forward and guided his cock to her entrance. With one sure stroke, she was wrapped around him, hot and pulsing. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to be still. He wouldn’t last long. Reaching between them, he found her clit and circled over it with his thumb. It swelled under his gentle touch, and he increased the pressure. Gasping, she moved against him and dropped her head back. He sucked in a breath at the scene. Her spine was arched, pushing her breasts up. Looking down, he watched his dick slide in and out of her, his thumb moving across her clitoris. Leaning forward, he drew one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked, adding a not so gentle bite. And then she cried out, and her cunt tightened and loosened in steady rhythm around him, pulsing with her orgasm. Driven by the primitive needs of his species, he rammed through her shudders, determined to take her as only he could. He could force her to the peak of orgasm over and over again, as any good mate should. He could hold her there or release her. He could test both their limits in unimaginable ways. He was driven to do so. Slowing his thrusts, he released her breast and trailed a line of kisses up her chest, along the line of her collarbone and back to the hollow between her shoulder and neck. He sucked the delicate skin there between his teeth, riding the edge between pain and pleasure. Her breaths began to come in pants again, as he built her body back up to the high. Increasing the bite in increments, he listening to the signs of her body. The rising heart rate, the panting breath, the liquid warmth growing slicker around his cock. His little seductress liked pain it seemed. She whimpered when he moved on, nibbling his way up her neck to her chin, around her lips, before roughly claiming her mouth. As his tongue delved into her, demanding she give him everything, he slammed his cock back into her, and she quaked in his arms. He drove her again and again, harder and harder, until she begged him to come, claimed she couldn’t possibly take anymore. When she clung to him weakly, he finally gave into his own need to

climax and roared with the release. He soaked in the bliss of the moment—a well-satisfied mate, and himself in a place beyond replete. When his pulse and breathing were back under control, he tightened his arms around her, holding her close. Then he felt the wetness on his chest and realized she was crying. Self doubt and recrimination threatened to overwhelm him. Had he pushed too far too fast? Would she hate him after all? Leaning back, he took her chin in his palm and forced her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” She struggled against him, but he held her still. After that, there was no way she could continue to push him away, was there? Her eyes glittered darkly, anger in their depths when he didn’t let her go. His jaw hardened in resolved and, wrapping her legs around his waist, he stood and walked through the bedroom. Opening the bathroom door, he let her slide down his body before turning to the water taps. The tub was more than large enough for two, and he adjusted the water and jets to bathe them both. Straightening, he gestured for her to get in. She glared at him a moment before shrugging and stepping over the side. Sitting down, she leaned her back against the ledge and sighed. He got in and sat on the opposite side. “The silent treatment again?” he asked. She cracked open one eye and studied him. “What should I talk about?” She closed her eye, and he stretched his legs out on the outside of hers and pulled her feet into his lap, gently rubbing the arches. Some of the tension eased from her torso before he spoke again. “Tell me about your grandparents.” She grunted, but kept her relaxed posture. “A match not made in heaven.” He rolled his eyes. Who said women talked a lot? “That’s not very helpful.” A grin appeared briefly on her face. “He saw her, he claimed her. She resented the hell out of it and they made each other miserable. It was not a pretty relationship.” “And you grew up with that?” She rolled her head side to side against the rim of the tub, eyes still closed. “He disappeared when I was about ten. Tinnie never let us forget though.” She went silent, and he looked for a way to get her talking again. “Is that why you study wolves? And werewolves?” He managed to restrain the snarl that thought evoked. Sighing, she opened her eyes and watched him warily. Maybe she heard the snarl anyway. “Maybe. Yeah, I guess so. I wanted to understand.” “What pack?” “Excuse me?” “What pack let you study them?” She laughed. “I don’t think I’d use the word let. I have friends in the Panhandle and Charleston. I’ve unofficially observed them a long time.” He nodded. “I’m surprised you didn’t go to them when you were running from me.” “Yeah, right.” She snorted. “They wouldn’t hide me from the Appalachian Alpha even if they wanted to. You have a reputation for being pretty ruthless.” This time he laughed. “Maybe someone should fill my detractors in on that little fact.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Happy to. I’ll start with kidnapping.” He cocked his head to one side and reviewed the first morning’s conversation. “You didn’t seem overly surprised about that.” “I dreamed about it,” she whispered. She what? “Come again?” “Meg reads people. Tara casts spells. I dream,” she answered, as if that explained everything. Irritated, he tugged on her feet and pulled her under the water. She came up sputtering and glared across the tub at him. “What was the for?” “It would be nice if you actually participated in the conversation,” he grumbled.

“Fine. What do you want to know?” “Start with the dreams. You see the future? If you knew I was going to kidnap you, why did you show up at the wedding?” Summer blew out an aggravated breath, wondering how to explain it. Hell, she didn’t understand it herself half the time. “I dream possibilities, I guess you’d say. Some things really happen. Some are things that could happen. I never know until I live it, and a lot of times events don’t happen in life the same as they do in the dreams.” He stared at her across the water, and she was afraid of what questions he might come up with next. “You’ve seen our future?” he asked. She exhaled. Relatively safe. “I’ve seen possibilities.” “And were we as miserable as your grandparents?” She sucked in a breath. How could she make him see it wasn’t that easy? “I’ve seen us happy and fighting. I have no way of knowing which is reality.” He grinned. “I see lots of arguing in my future, actually.” He turned serious. “As long as we’re together, I think we can work it out. If we can get you talking.” “Ha ha,” Summer answered, trying to inject a snide note, but his gentle teasing warmed her heart and took the bite out of it. He went back to just watching her and the silence stretched. She was beginning to relax again when he asked the question she dreaded. “Did you dream about me before we met?” Squeezing her eyes shut, she considered lying but whispered the truth instead. “Years. I’ve dreamed about you for years.”

Chapter Four Chloe French—no, Underwood. She had to remember she was Underwood now, not French— stepped through the swinging door that divided the diner’s kitchen and main room, and froze for a split second before fear and momentum propelled her forward. He was here again. Billy Cagle. Beta of the Appalachian pack. Why did he keep coming back? To remind them both he couldn’t have her? She’d met him six months ago, when Jackson took over and kicked Wyatt out of the pack. He had come into the diner, sat at one of her tables, and sized her up in that way werewolves had. She knew the look, the way he sniffed the air around her. She’d experienced that before, she remembered bitterly. She’d never forget the look of rage in his eyes when he realized she was bonded to someone else. She had pled sick that night, and left work trembling, panicked and close to tears. She’d desperately hoped she would never see him again, but he kept coming back. Nodding, she hurried by the table and behind the counter. It was a slow night, and she knew what he wanted. While she waited for the fizz to settle in his Coke, she adjusted her sleeves, making sure no signs of her recent bruising showed. She’d heard rumors of Billy Cagle for years, but no matter how good they said he was, she lived in terror he would challenge Wyatt. And lose. She sensed he was just waiting for the right provocation, and she’d be damned if she would live with those consequences. Her life was difficult enough.

Feeling his steady gaze on her, she forced herself to look up and meet his eyes. She gasped. Huge mistake. The blue depths shone with emotion, lust, longing, and frustration. Why couldn’t she have met him a year ago? Angry, she forced the thought away. What ifs got you nowhere. She carried the glass over and thunked it on the table as she glared down at him. “Why do you keep doing this?” she said in a low, controlled voice. No one was more surprised than her. They never spoke of his continued presence or her life outside the diner. They never acknowledged what could have been between them. He met her look for look and answered her question with his own. “Do what?” Exasperated, she waved her arms in the air. “This. Coming in here, but only when I’m working.” His blue gaze drilled into her so long, she almost doubted herself. Could she be wrong and the connection was one sided? Finally, he smiled. “When I first started coming in here, you were afraid of me. You seem to be over that now.” She pressed her lips together and took a step back. Playing with fire often got you burned. He sighed. “Sit down, Chloe. You aren’t afraid of me.” She reluctantly slid into the booth across from him. “Afraid for you maybe,” she said softly. They ’d never discussed it before, and she wasn’t sure how far to push the conversation now. “He’d come after you with the slightest provocation.” Billy’s eyes glinted dangerously, and she was reminded that as gentle as he was with her, he was still a predator. “Let him come,” he answered. She shook her head, denial rising to her lips, but he pressed a finger across them. “Don’t,” he said. “I won’t challenge him, though your faith in my abilities is less than flattering. But I won’t stop coming in here, Chloe, and I won’t back down if he challenges me.” His voice dropped so low she almost missed the rest. “He stole what should have been mine.” Fear and anger propelled her from the seat. She was already bound to one werewolf and it wasn ’t something—if she ever got out of—she cared to repeat. He glowered. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Had she actually said that out loud? “Of course, all bets are off if I find out he’s hurt you.” She shook her head in denial and dredged up a shaky voice. “I have work to do. And you have to stop coming here.” He pinned her with his gaze, pale blue eyes seeming to see into her soul. “That’s not going to happen, Chloe.” Still shaking her head, she edged away, escaping behind the swinging door again. Walking out the back door, she leaned over, clasping her knees with shaking hands and wishing she still smoked. He was determined to get himself killed, and she would be responsible. For not making him see reason, for not making him stay away. There was a time she could have done that, but Wyatt had taken most of the fight out of her. She grew up with werewolves. Her father was a member of the Appalachian pack and still lived inside its borders with her mother. She smiled. That relationship had never led her to believe there were bad bonds, and she hadn’t grown up with fear of their kind. In retrospect, she thought that was a bad thing. She’d been easy prey for Wyatt, hadn’t she? The last nine months had been the longest of her life, and her future seemed a gloomy thing. She’d tried running once. The bond made it impossible and, after three days, she had thought she would go crazy. When Wyatt finally found her, she wished for one brief moment that she had died. Thank God, it had been short. As much as she despised him, she wouldn’t give up so easily. Unfortunately, she had to avoid her parents. She had to hide bruises from Billy Cagle. She lived in fear he or her father would see them and fight with Wyatt, and Wyatt fought dirty. He would pull every trick to win, and he would never willingly give her up. He couldn’t, could he? Not with the bond. When her heart rate slowed and she felt more in control, she went back inside. Billy was gone, a five dollar bill left on the table for his drink. She picked it up and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.

Bending to pick it up, she hesitated when she saw the numbers. His phone number? If she kept it, where would she hide it? She reached for it and carried it behind the counter. Lifting the edge of the register, she slid the scrap underneath. If she ever needed it, she knew where to go. The shift dragged on through the evening, and she gratefully punched out at midnight. The drive to the small house she shared with Wyatt was short, and she was standing on the back stoop in minutes. Like many nights recently, he had company. She lingered outside a minute listening, closing her eyes against the guilt. He plotted against Jackson. The Appalachian pack was her pack but, despite the loyalty she felt toward it, she couldn’t betray Wyatt. Once she’d thought to, but he made it clear he would take it out on her parents, and she couldn’t risk that. Tonight was different. An excited hum vibrated through the air, and she tried to determine its cause. She couldn’t linger outside too long, but he would end the conversation when she entered. She rolled her eyes. Nothing like mates who trust each other. After a moment, she began picking out separate voices. “He’s taken a mate,” Wyatt said with excitement. Chloe got the impression the phrase had been repeated many times through the night. “He is the Alpha,” someone responded. “We knew he’d have to eventually.” “Reluctant, too,” someone else piped in. “Rumor is he had to kidnap her to get her here.” They discussed spreading those rumors further. Nothing caused loss of face in the werewolf world quite like having a reluctant mate. For an Alpha to have to go through such great lengths? Embarrassing and damaging to his reputation, and Wyatt was all about making Jackson look bad. While Chloe felt guilty for not finding a way to contact the Alpha, she was certain he could handle rumors. When Wyatt starting talking again, though, her heart slammed in her chest. “What would he do if she was threatened, I wonder?” “We can’t get close enough to the house to see,” someone said. “He can’t keep her locked up for long, though. People will want to see her, to meet her. Before long he’ll drop his guard and give her free rein to go where she wants. Then I take something from him, like he did to me.” Breathing shallowly, Chloe leaned against the side of the house and fought to sort through her racing emotions. Closing her eyes, she warred with herself. On the one hand was her parents’ safety. On the other, she couldn’t not pass on this kind of threat. She finally decided to go back to the diner and call Billy, but she was too late. She hadn’t heard the silence grow or the house empty. When she straightened from the wall to go to her car, a hand wrapped around her throat and the world went black. ***** The next few days passed in blur. Jackson breathed a little easier with Summer close by but, confined to the house, she was beginning to climb the walls, and he spent too much time trying to determined who was trying to undermine his control to take her out. He and Billy worked on the problem so much they were both irritable and unpredictable. He wasn’t sure what was going on with his normally unflappable Beta, but if the were didn’t chill out soon, Jackson was likely to rip his throat out himself. As they came into the kitchen after one particularly bad questioning session, Billy growled at one of the men doing work outside the door. Jackson finally lost his temper. “My office,” he ground out. Both men trudged up the stairs and Jackson slammed the door shut behind them. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Billy’s clenched his hands and his narrowed eyes met Jackson’s briefly before he cut them away. Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to challenge his Alpha. “Nothing,” he grumbled. “Just some…personal issues.” “Well fuck her already and get it out of your system. I need your head on your shoulders, not in your pants.” For a split second, he thought Billy was going to come over the desk after him. A growl rumbled

low in his throat and his eyes glowed electric blue. Jackson set his hands on his hips and arched an eyebrow, watching as the other werewolf visibly got himself back under control. He took several deep breaths and a haunted look came into his eyes. “It’s not that simple. She…belongs to someone else.” Jackson looked at him, shock temporarily freezing his tongue. “One of us?” he asked incredulously. It wasn’t done, lusting after another’s mate. “Yes,” Billy said through clenched teeth. “But she’s meant to be mine.” Paper rustled from the corner, and he looked over sharply to meet Summer’s gaze. She gave him a slight smile. He couldn’t believe he’d been so distracted by Billy that he’d missed her presence in the room. Standing, she set aside the book she was reading, one of her grandmother’s journals, and walked toward them. “Summer,” Billy demanded. “There has to be a way to break a bond. Tell me how.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “She doesn’t belong with him. I don’t understand how this could happen.” She looked at him sadly and shook her head. “There’s only one way to break the bond.” The only way Jackson knew to break a mate bond was death. She took a deep breath and continued, “Y’all can create a bond with anyone. All it takes is that mix of chemicals. It doesn’t have to be a particular person.” Jackson looked at her quizzically. “I suppose that’s possible, but what would be the point?” She shrugged. “Lust. Power. Greed. Control. Take your pick.” Billy groaned and sat in a chair, face buried in his hands. After a moment he looked up. Staring into space, he muttered under his breath, but the words were clear and alarming to Jackson. “So she won’t be free until Wyatt’s dead.” “You are not going after Wyatt.” Jackson sat on the edge of the desk and stared Billy down until he finally nodded in agreement. “I told her I wouldn’t,” he said tightly. “That’s why you’re ready to take everyone’s head off? She asked you not to go after her mate? Maybe that should tell you something, man. She’s with whom she’s supposed to be with.” Billy gave him the steady stare he was more accustomed to, the one that told Jackson he was fully in control of himself and absolutely sure of what he said. “No. She doesn’t belong with him. She’s afraid of him. Of me. Of all men as near as I can tell, and she hasn’t always been. Wyatt did that. And now she’s stopped going to work.” He stared at his hands a minute and gulped. “I’m afraid he’s hurt her. I will kill him if I find out he has, Jackson.” Standing, Billy met his gaze before walking to the hall door. “Hey, where you going?” “Down to the basement.” He didn’t look back as he pulled the door closed with a soft click behind him. Jackson exhaled a pent up breath and glanced over at Summer. She stood still, the only sign the scene might have bothered her was the way her teeth worried her bottom lip. Taking one of the chairs in front of his desk, she cocked her head to one side. “What’s in the basement?” “We have a gym down there. He probably went straight for the punching bag.” He walked to the mini fridge in the corner and pulled out two bottles of water. After twisting off the lids and dropping them in the waste can, he took the armchair next to her and handed her one. He drank down half of his before he spoke. “So how do I fix this?” He laughed at the expression on her face. He’d finally stunned her speechless. “Cat got your tongue?” he teased. She shook her head as if clearing a thought and frowned at him. “Are you actually asking me for advice?” “Yes, Summer,” he answered seriously. “You are my mate, and you seem to know more about this than we do. You’re the expert, right?” She took a deep breath. “I suppose I am. I don’t see how I can help, though. There is only one way to break the bond. We had a spell, but…”

She shrugged, and he was glad the bitterness from a few days ago was gone from her voice. The thought of that spell gave him nightmares. That wasn’t the answer. Worse was the idea that a werewolf could pick the wrong mate. Or would do so intentionally. If that was true, and he had no reason not to believe Billy, then anyone could have claimed Summer before he even met her. A fist seemed to grip his heart. Thank God I already bonded with her. “You’ve seen this before?” He was proud he kept that moment’s panic out of his voice. She paled under her tan and pressed her lips together. “Once.” “Your grandparents?” She forced a laugh. “No. I don’t think so. I think those two just started off wrong and it escalated into a full out war.” “Who then?” he prodded, when she didn’t continue. She shook her head, like she was getting rid of a memory. “A few years ago in the Panhandle. The girl was the Alpha’s daughter, and one of the weres who was in line for his position bonded with her. It was okay for a while. They got along.” She paused for a drink of her water. “Then a Hunter came through.” Jackson didn’t know if he wanted to hear the rest. There were few that could take on a Hunter. “The girl realized right away. So did he, of course. There was a challenge, and she was hysterical. She had to be sedated.” Summer’s eyes took on a far away look. “The Hunter won, but it caused a lot of turmoil. People suddenly wondered about their own bonds, and there was this great big rift between the woman and her pack. She grew up with those people and it was a blow. The Hunter took her away. I don’t know what happened to them.” Jackson felt triumph on behalf of the Hunter for winning his mate, but he doubted Summer shared the feeling. He turned so she couldn’t see his reaction, which had to reflect more than his agreement with the Hunter’s action. He’d do the same in his position. The idea that a werewolf would bond with someone who was not his destined mate was deeply disturbing. Worse that someone in his pack may have done so; it was the most horrible of taboos. Bonding with a woman, that one particular equal, bordered on sacred. He remembered the old tales told around the fire when he was a cub. Stories of the gods deciding to create a perfect counterpart for the werewolves, a match that would become so important to them that the old ways of fighting and bickering were forced under control. The mate bond served to tame some of their more primitive natures. If Wyatt had bonded with a woman who was not his destined mate, Jackson would be forced to act. In what capacity, he had no idea. He’d never heard of or witnessed such a thing. His wolf side wanted to let Billy handle it, knowing it would come to a death challenge and sure of the outcome. The human side that had to control a pack of three hundred was less sure that was a great idea. Later he would contact the Elder of the Council and seek advice, but he was tempted to say fuck it, give in to his animal nature, and deal with the consequences. Shaking his head, he decided nothing could be determined without collecting a lot more information. There was an elder werewolf in the village who may be able to help, and he could use the opportunity to take his witch around to meet the locals while he was at it. She still sat in the chair, pensively staring out the window. He recognized her as his mate the way his species was supposed to—she existed in him down to his very marrow. She had to feel it too but, after hearing the story of the Hunter and his mate and the little he knew of her grandparents, he was beginning to understand her reticence. Dreaming a dozen possibilities of the future couldn’t help her state of mind. He’d probably made it worse by keeping her locked up in the house. She was safer here, but she resented being treated like someone who needed to be protected. She’d have to get over that; it was one area that he couldn’t bend. “Find your jacket and let’s get out of here for a little while.” Waiting for her decision, he held his hand out to her, and his heart stopped beating. It slammed back into life when she placed her long, delicate fingers in his and slowly rose from her seat. Her eyes were wary, but a smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “Is it cold out?” Her low, husky voice almost made him reverse the spur-of-the-moment

invitation. A fire and a day spent in bed sounded a hell of a lot better. “It’s not too cold.” He looked her up and down. She was wearing a cream-colored high-necked cable knit sweater, jeans, and brown, short-cuffed boots. “You should be okay with a windbreaker.” Slipping her hand from his, she walked into the bedroom and rifled through the end of the closet she’d taken over. She came out with lightweight pale blue jacket and pulled it on. They went downstairs and her expression lightened as they walked outside. She walked down the front stairs to the driveway and stood still, spreading her arms wide and tilting her face back to catch the sun. He leaned against the porch rail and watched her, not trying to hide his stupid grin. She was magnificent. And she was his. When she straightened, she grinned up at him, her body language a complete one-eighty from ten minutes ago. Rolling back on the heels of her boots, she joked, “So now what? Laps around the yard?” He laughed. She might be happy with that. For about a minute. Walking down the steps, he took her hand and led her around the corner of the house. Under a wide stone arch, a dirt path led down the side of the mountain. “I thought we’d visit the village. It’s about a mile and a half. Think you’re up for it?” Pulling her hand loose, she took off down the path. I’ll take that as a yes. He caught up and walked at her side, enjoying the quiet moment and watching her reaction to his domain. After a half mile, she started to slow down and pay attention to their surroundings. The next turn coming up was a popular stopping place, with a huge boulder several people could lay across on one side. She stopped and leaned against it, accepting with a smile of thanks the water he brought along. “So what do you look like in your other form?” Squashing down a surge of adrenalin-filled joy, he joined her on the rock, wondering how to answer. In the normal course of events, he’d expect a mate’s curiosity about his wolf form to be a step toward acceptance. But Summer was hardly normal. It could be that step he yearned for, or her scientist’ s inquisitiveness. Either way was in his favor, he decided. Maybe the way to lure her out of her shell was through her work. “I have no idea.” He grinned. “I’ve never seen myself in a mirror as a wolf.” “Hmm,” she murmured, watching him thoughtfully. He wondered if she’d ask to see him change? “Have you seen the change before?” he asked. She shook her head. His wolf clamored at him, wanting the freedom of the animal side, needing to stretch its legs after days of confinement. He made a split second decision and started stripping. When he was naked, he rolled everything into the small backpack he habitually left the house with and handed it to her. Eyes wide, she accepted it and broke into a reluctant grin. “You’d do that for me? Let me see it?” “For both of us,” he said. He nodded at the backpack and grinned. “Hang on to that. I need clothes where we’re going.” Stepping back, he embraced the transformation already beginning in his body. His bones and muscles contorted, changing to those of the wolf, and he dropped onto four paws. The wolf threw its head back and howled.

Chapter Five

Awe froze Summer in place. The wolf’s call was a claiming of the land he stood on, of all that lived in it, including her. He was huge; his shoulders would reach her hip if he stood at her side. His coat was thick. Black and gray on his back and face blended into brown and white down his sides and belly. At the end of his cry, he sat on his haunches and watched her. She almost wept for her lack of camera. She’d always been drawn to wolves; found them majestic and spent years studying them, trying to figure out what their hold over her was. Her past rushed at her and when she took her first step toward him, she knew this was a continuing part of her lifelong journey. Her whole life led to this moment, this choice. She paused when she reached him, yearning to dig her fingers through his fur but unsure if she could take the final plunge into a murky future. Sinking to her knees, not touching him but within easy reach, she looked up to meet his eyes. The longing there that mirrored her own would have knocked her on her butt if she wasn’t already there. She gave into temptation, pushing fingers through the hair around his muzzle, and the memory of one of her first dreams of him rose in her mind. Not this scene, but one like it. She and the wolf on a path in the woods, surrounded by the pure white of new snow. He licked her face, startling her out of the reverie, and she laughed. Even in the form of a wolf, he gave her the look she was coming to associate with his annoyance at her silence. “You expect me to talk to you like this?” He gave her a big-toothed wolfy grin, and she giggled. “I’m suddenly getting this whole Little Red Riding Hood vibe.” The wolf made a sound between a snort and a grunt that she took for laughter. She sat in the dirt and laughed with him. It was surreal. She had always wanted to be able to do a more in-depth, personal study of a werewolf. But being bonded to one, though it gave her the exposure, threw a major wrench in her plans. With her world spinning way out of her control, she laughed until she cried. The wolf nuzzled her face, licking away the tears in a gesture she found oddly comforting. Shaking off the weird emotional outburst, she rose to her feet. They started down the path, her hand buried in the thick fur at his nape. Switching back and forth down the mountainside, she was surprised at how quickly they reached the bottom. He took the bag between his teeth and stepped behind a clump of trees, while she looked around. The village lay nestled between mountain peaks. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but the rustic Alps-looking scene wasn’t it. Jackson joined her on the path, dressed again with the bag across his back. Taking her hand, they set off down Main Street, Jackson pointing out businesses as they went. A grocery store, a general store, post office, health and vet clinics, hair salon and clothing store, a pharmacy —it was a preserved slice of small town America. The town bustled with activity, and Summer was charmed. People nodded and said hello as they passed but no one asked for an introduction, and she wondered at their restraint. Was this some cultural aspect she’d never been aware of? Was there a required procedure for introducing a mate? Her stomach twisted. It better not be some kind of public ceremony. She didn’t do crowds. “Um, Jackson? Is there a reason no one is speaking to me? Some secret new mate ceremony I don’t know about or something?” She cast a suspicious gaze at him when he laughed. He sobered immediately. “No. No, there isn’ t. You’re just getting a...call it a free pass, since it’s the first time anyone’s seen you. Next time you’ll be the center of attention.” Since they’d cleared the tree line and entered the town, she’d felt gazes following their progress. Shivering a little under the watchful sensation, she cut her eyes at him. “We’re already the center of attention.” They came to the end of Main Street and turned down an ally with a large house sitting at the end. He glanced back up the main thoroughfare, then met her gaze, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess we are. I’m so used to it, I don’t notice it anymore.” She bit her bottom lip. She was such a private, solitary person, she doubted she’d ever adjust to it. Her witch’s perception made it worse. Looking up, she brushed the worry aside and concentrated on the house they approached. It was a long ranch-style, with a deep porch stretching across the entire

front. “Who are we going to see?” she asked. “One of the pack elders,” he answered. “Nolan French. I thought he might be able to add to the whole mate conversation. Maybe he’ll have some kind of solution.” “Why would he?” “He’s kind of the keeper of the lore, ya know? The pack historian.” Summer nodded. Other packs had someone who performed the same function. They walked up the wide steps, and Jackson leaned on the doorbell. It seemed incredibly rude, and she reached over and swatted at his hand. Meeting his surprised gaze, she arched her eyebrows, silently daring him to say anything. “Impolite, don’t you think?” He leaned against the doorframe, ankles and arms crossed, and grinned down at her. “He tends to ignore you if you aren’t insistent.” Several minutes later she gave up and didn’t protest when Jackson held the doorbell down again. Finally she heard loud, angry footsteps approaching the door. Not sure what to expect, she was shocked when the door flew open. Nolan French didn’t meet the curmudgeonly elder image she’d been building in her mind. Oh no. She guessed he was around fifty, but he was the nicest looking fifty she’d ever seen; tall, broad, well-muscled. His face was lined with age, but in the way only men seemed to pull off. He looked stately and distinguished. His hair was silver with streaks of black. He must be beautiful as a wolf. He paid no attention to her at all, and cut off his angry greeting mid-stride when he noticed who the male werewolf on the porch was. “What! I’m—Jackson! Sorry. What can I do for you?” Jackson just shook his head and grinned. “You can start with a Miss Manners’ lesson, Nolan.” Jackson grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. “This is Summer Lambert. My mate.” Nolan’s entire demeanor changed, morphing from pissed off to pleased in an instant. He stepped back and gestured for them to enter. “Come in, come in.” Once inside, he shook her hand before turning back to Jackson. “What’s up?” He smiled at Summer. “As thrilled as I am to see you’ve finally settled down, you don’t have these elusive things called manners anymore than I do. So I doubt this is a friendly neighborhood introduction.” Jackson looked wounded and spread his arms. “Summer, help a guy out here, would you?” Enjoying the banter, she grinned and set her hands on her hips. “Oh, I really don’t think you want my help on this one.” She paused before adding sweetly, “We could tell him how I ended up here.” Jackson grinned back at her. “He’d applaud my ingenuity.” Nolan barked a laugh. “I already heard. It’s the talk of the pack.” She must have looked as horrified as she felt at his announcement. Offering comfort, Jackson pulled her up against his side and whispered in her ear, “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll have something else to talk about in no time.” Resisting the urge to turn her face into shoulder and hide, she lifted her chin to meet Nolan’s curious gaze. Obviously not understanding what the big deal was, he changed the subject instead of asking. “Let’s go to my study. I was going to come see you today, anyway.” They walked through a large living room that stretched from the front door to back wall and was bisected by hall. The room was pristine and looked unlived in. Turning to the right, they walked down a short hall that ended at another door. Summer followed Nolan and Jackson and smiled when they entered. This was not a leather and wood study like Jackson’s. It looked more like the kind of place you ’d find an alchemist or sorcerer hanging out in. The two men chatted about acquaintances while she wandered around. The room appeared to take up the entire end of the house with a set of French doors leading to an outside deck. The remaining walls were lined with shelves. Two sides were crammed with books, and a desk sat in front of it. The other two sides were filled with object; everything from rocks, to animal skins and bones, to sketches and photographs. Long workbenches stretched in front on them. Delighted, she realized who he was and

whirled around to question him. Both men sat in the sitting area in the middle of the room and another realization struck. This man could be Alpha. Why isn’t he? Damn the witch’s intuition. And her own confused heart. The thought of someone taking Jackson’s place filled her with dread, and she approached cautiously. There were two couches and two chairs, with a long table in the center. She sat next to Jackson and took his hand, ignoring his surprise that she felt more than saw. There was something odd going on in the Appalachian pack and well, he needed all the help he could get. If only he would take off the damned talisman. It had served its purpose, and it confused her senses. She would have hissed at him to remove it if Nolan hadn’t been watching them so carefully. “Why were you going to come see me?” Jackson asked curiously. Nolan’s eyes turned hard, the affable man disappearing in an instant. “My daughter. She mated to someone outside the pack, and he doesn’t let her see us. Me and my mate.” He clarified for Summer. “Usually she calls us every couple of days, but she’s gone silent.” Jackson looked sympathetic as he answered. “Outside the pack there isn’t anything I can do, Nolan. You know that.” The other man nodded. “I know, but it’s not like Wyatt went anywhere, and one way or the other he means to cause problems.” Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “Your daughter is bonded to Wyatt? Chloe… I should have realized.” “What?” “You aren’t the only one worried about her. Billy mentioned she’d sort of disappeared earlier. That’s why we’re here.” “Billy Cagle?” Nolan looked intrigued and nodded slowly. “She always had an unusual interest in him. That’s a match I can see.” “So can he.” Jackson frowned. “I can’t afford to have him this distracted, but he’s positive she’s his mate. Until the matter is resolved in some way, he’s sidetracked.” “I can see how that would happen,” Nolan answered. “I’ve never heard of a case where a werewolf bonded with the wrong woman. But if this is one of those cases, I need a solution. And an explanation.” “The explanation is simple enough. Wyatt wants the pack and assumes I’ll support him since he is essentially holding my daughter hostage.” She felt Jackson’s tension at the possible threat though his expression didn’t change, and she squeezed his hand in silent support. “There’s only one solution. And there is precedence. There was the Panhandle case a few years ago, and the records mention a few other times.” “You know about the Florida situation?” Summer asked. “Do you know what happened to them? The couple?” Nolan gave her a steady look. “I know. I wonder how you know?” “I was there. For some of it at least.” He nodded. “You’re that Summer.” Jackson’s tension strummed through the bond between them. “What do you know about Summer?” Nolan shook his head and smiled. “You know I’m not a threat to you or your mate.” “It’s part of my charm,” Jackson growled. “I’ll keep what I know to myself. Part of my job, isn’t it?” Nolan assured him. “I know she studies wolves, and she’s pretty well known in the field. She has several friends in the were community. And her grandfather was a Hunter.” She bit back a gasp at his knowledge. She only knew one thing about him. “And you’re Nolan French, the famous naturalist.” He tipped his head at her and joked, “Not so famous.” The tension eased from Jackson, and he picked up the thread of the conversation. “What

happened to them? That couple from Florida?” Nolan started to laugh and stopped abruptly. “Really? You don’t know?” Jackson glared and Nolan threw up his hands. “Okay, okay. They’re here. Richard and Janelle.” Jackson started to feel more confident about the situation. Richard and Janelle were one of those couples that you saw and knew were meant to be together. He wondered if Trey would ever unwind to the level Richard had. Unless he was reminded, he rarely remembered Richard used to be a Hunter. Somehow he didn’t see Trey ever reaching that level of comfort with other people. “Well, that’s good news at least. What about the other incidences you mentioned?” Nolan sighed. “This seems to happen a couple of times every two or three generations. There’s always a challenge, and you know how that goes. The outcome is never predictable. Witnesses don’t discuss it. No one is in a hurry to accept that someone would do this. It’s essentially stealing a mate.” “Right.” Jackson stood and paced the length of the room a few times. Nolan wasn’t doing more than verifying what he already knew. “So you’re saying it is what it is, and there’s nothing I can really do about it.” In an instant, Nolan’s lazy posture changed, becoming the dark and dangerous predator he was instead of the friendly, affable face he usually wore. Jackson was grateful Nolan didn’t want to be Alpha. This man could pose a real threat otherwise. “You can let me or Billy handle it.” Jackson shook his head. “I want you both to chill out for a couple of days.” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them to kill Wyatt, but if one of them made a challenge and fought in anger instead of cold reason, the outcome would be much less assured. He eyed Nolan with an assessing gaze. “Neither one of you is in a position right now to trust your effectiveness. You’re both too angry.” Nolan watched him a long moment, and he thought he was going to argue before he finally nodded in agreement. “Two days.” Jackson ground his back molars. “Fine. Two days.” That gave him forty-eight hours to find Wyatt and try to force the confrontation with the troublemaker onto his own territory. He caught Summer’s hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. He’d much rather spend the time convincing her they were perfect for each other, but the seduction would have to wait. In the meantime, he’d shown her the way to the village, and he was certain she’d insist on free access. His gut rebelled at the thought. It wasn’t safe. He made arrangements to meet Nolan in a couple of days and left with Summer. They’d been inside long enough for dusk to fall, and the streets through town were empty as they made their way back to the path leading to the house. She was as quiet as usual, but kept her hand in his as they climbed the trail. As their first week together progressed, he began to understand her better. Her emails to Hardy were always chatty, so he’d expected her to be the same in person. In the first couple of days when she wasn’t, he’d taken her quiet as a way to punish him for the sneaky way he’d claimed her, but he was starting to see it was just her way. Not that it didn’t worry him. He had learned the quieter she got, the more she was thinking, and he doubted that was good for him. He was still trying to figure her out. He knew one sure way to pull her from the remote shell she was erecting while they walked. When they reached a small deer path a quarter mile from the house, he pulled her behind him into the woods. “Where are we going?” she asked. He smiled, knowing she could only see his back, and considered a big bad wolf response. Some place isolated. The better to eat you, my dear. Though he didn’t say it out loud, she must have felt his intent and her blood rushed in response. He imagined his lips on her, recalled her taste, and felt desire stir through him. It met hers and the air seemed to crackle with sexual energy. In another few yards, they emerged from the trees into a small glade. He spun around to face her, pulling her hard against his body, and crushing her mouth with his before she could utter a protest. If she didn’t understand his sudden urgency, she didn’t show it. Instead, she met it, her fingers reaching for the snap on his jeans and freeing his cock from the constraining fabric. Her fingers closed around him, and he

growled low in his throat until she reluctantly released him. He needed her willing, but he wasn’t sure he could handle aggressive. Stepping back, he ripped off his shirt. “The jacket,” he panted out. She unzipped it and tossed it to the ground. He wanted to take off her sweater, but was afraid he’d tear it. “The sweater, too.” When it too lay on the ground, he moved in, eyeing her bra. Knowing the lacy thing was history, he silently promised he’d buy her a dozen more. Letting his claws lengthen, he shredded the straps and sides, paying no attention as it fluttered to the ground. Her breasts rose and fell at a fast pace. He met her gaze, expecting to see fear, but not sure how to assuage it. The truth was she probably should be afraid of him right now. He felt a primitive need to mark her as his territory, a need that was obsessive. It went beyond sexual chemistry. This woman was in his bones. Compassion shone through the chocolate depths of her eyes, and she held her hand out to him. It was all the invitation he needed. Yanking her closer, his mouth closed over the pink areola of her breast. She moaned, and her fingers twisted in his hair. The growing scent of her arousal flooded his nostrils and without releasing her, he walked her backwards to brace against the nearest tree. When the bark brushed his arm around her back, he released her and reached for the button on her jeans. Popping it open, he felt for a zipper and groaned when there was none. “Button fly?” She laughed shakily. “Sorry.” He popped the remaining snaps open. He met her gaze, glad to see she looked as dazed as he felt. “Don’t replace these jeans,” he ordered. Her eyes sparked but instead of a retort, she groaned when his fingers reached inside the jeans and found her clit. The small nub was already hard and swollen, and he had her screaming her release in seconds. At the small mastery over her body, ecstasy surged through him and his cock demanded attention. Deciding he was far beyond finesse, he turned her around and placed her palms on the tree, pulling her hips with him until her back was flat, her glistening pussy in easy access. He pushed two fingers in her channel to test her readiness, relieved to find her slick with need. She dropped her head, pushed back against him, and fucked herself on the digits for a few seconds. He enjoyed the sight of her moving around his hand. He withdrew them and trailed the line between her ass, pausing over the pucker of her hole. She stilled completely as he pushed one finger inside and slowly worked it in and out before adding a second finger. She tensed at the additional invasion, and he murmured soothing nonsense words. Gradually she relaxed, opening up to him. He groaned, feeling the sensation, watching the action, wishing he had a tube of lube with him. Soon. No longer able to hold back, he continued to work her ass as he guided his cock to her pussy. He entered her slowly, withdrawing his cock and fingers in unison, then working both back in. After a few times, she began to move backwards to meet him, and he let her set a slow rhythm that steadily increased. He threw back his head and gritted his teeth, reining in the need to ram into her. She moved faster. “Yeah, baby,” he moaned. “Just like that.” When her pussy started to twitch around him, he withdrew his fingers and gripped her hips with both hands. He pounded into her, and she met him thrust for thrust until her body went rigid with her orgasm, her cry loud in his ears. Her cunt clenched around him, reluctant to release its hold on him as he stroked his way to his own finish. He threw his head back and howled as he came. He felt a quiver in her thighs and not yet ready to move, wrapped one arm around her waist and set a hand against the tree keeping both of them from falling to the ground. Sighing, she reached one hand up to rub along his arm, and the other around to squeeze his butt. The move filled him with a sense of rightness. “Jackson, I have to stand up.” “I have you. You won’t fall,” he whispered against her ear and kissed a line down the back of her neck. She shivered. “Okay. I want to stand up.” Reluctantly, he straightened and released her, watching as she pulled up her jeans.

Embarrassment crossed her face, and she looked away. He wondered if it was because they were outside or because she’d enjoyed the anal play. Taking care not to spook her, he pulled her into his arms. “Summer,” he said, waiting until she met his gaze. “Whatever we do together is perfectly natural.” She caught her lip with her teeth in the nervous gesture he found sexy as hell. His cock responded. A response, judging by the widening of her eyes, she noticed. “It’s not natural to…want this much.” He grinned at the almost admission. “It is,” he said, bending over to nibble the spot he’d bitten to claim her. “When you’re mated to a werewolf.” When he checked again, her expression was mutinous and wary. “It won’t ever go away, Summer. I’ll want you as much—you’ll want me as much—in ten years, as today. What we make of the rest of our lives is up to us.” He searched her eyes for any softening, but found none. “God, please give us a chance, Summer,” he whispered. He cupped her face in his palms and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I don’t want to live the kind of life your grandfather did. Whether we do or not is up to you.” “How can I when you don’t trust me? You’re asking me for all this faith, but where’s yours?” Surprised by her question, he asked, “What are you talking about?” She reached a hand between them and gripped the small disc on the chain around his neck. He’d forgotten all about it. “I’m half blind with you wearing this.” Half blind? He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but the thought of limiting her abilities to protect herself filled him with dread. “I can take care of that. ”He pulled the chain over his head and threw it into the woods. He hoped she wouldn’t ask for freedom from the house. She eyed him suspiciously. “And you’ll let me leave the house?” So much for that hope. He sighed. “It’s not safe right now. Let me find out who’s trying to undermine my control, and then you can go wherever you want.” Pulling out of his arms, she stepped back and put her hands on her hips. From a distance of three feet, she glared at him. “Surely, it’s safe in the village in the middle of the day. And I’m not entirely defenseless, you know.” What did she think she could do against a full-grown werewolf? He growled his anger, determined to prove a point, and pounced at her. He braced an arm under them, catching the fall, careful not to hurt her as he pinned her under him. Her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest, and she gasped. At the contact or the demonstration, he had no idea. Shaking his head, he reminded his cock he was proving a point, not taking her again. “I don’t know what you can do. Probably because you won’t talk to me, you think?” He continued before she could answer. “But you can’t take on an adult werewolf. I’ll be damned if you get the chance to try.” Glaring, she pushed at him until he rolled over. She jumped up and found her sweater, pulled it on and reached for the jacket. When it was zipped, she turned to him. “I’d like to go back to house now,” she stiffly. He nodded and they walked back to the house in an uncomfortable silent. There were people waiting for him inside one of the front rooms, and he stopped her at the bottom step before she could disappear for the next few hours. He kissed her with as much passion as he could put into it. “It would destroy me if something happened to you, Summer,” he said in a low voice that wouldn ’t carry to his guests. “Just give me some time to deal with this.” Some of the anger faded from her eyes, and she nodded before turning and leaving him to face the pack.

Chapter Six Chloe awoke in an instant, cautiously edging a hand out to her side to insure she was alone. When she was sure her straining ears picked up nothing but silence, she opened her eyes and looked around. Sometime during the night Wyatt had undone the restraints tying her to the bed and left her free. If she was any judge, the house was empty and this was her only chance for escape. He’d kill her as soon as he thought she was no longer of use to him. Sometime over the last week, she’d decided she could live with his death, too. Gingerly, she stood and made her way to the bathroom. Careful not to look in the mirror, she turned the hot water tap on in the shower and stepped in. Giving into the tears, she scrubbed herself, wondering if she’d ever be able to wash away the feel of his hands, if she’d ever feel whole and safe and sane again. Hiccupping, she turned off the water and stepped out, and looked into the mirror. Anger stirred through her and she met her gaze in silent promise. Never again. She was not the wimp who’d lived in her body the last nine months, and she was taking her life back. She knew one man, one werewolf, she was certain could take on Wyatt, and she was going to him. If she could get her hands on one of her father’s guns, she’d do it herself. Ignoring the purpling that covered her body, she dried off and went in search of clothes. In a fit of rage the night he’d found her outside, he shredded almost everything. She finally found a pair of corduroy pants and an old red sweater faded to orange that had seen many better days. She searched the house for her keys and grinned when she came up short, feeling more herself than she had in ages. He really was an idiot if he thought lack of keys would keep her around. She grabbed her purse, stepped out the back door, and sighed with relief when she saw her car. She’d left it unlocked, and since he had the keys, he apparently hadn’t though he needed to lock it. Snorting her derision, she climbed in and hotwired it. Thanks for being a paranoid SOB, Dad. It was something he’ d insisted she learn when she started dating. Glancing at the clock, she peeled out of the driveway. Jackson’s house was only about twenty miles north, but driving out of town and up the mountain would probably take an hour. She wanted to have a good head start on Wyatt. She reached for her cell phone on the passenger seat, thinking to call home, but it was completely dead. She considered stopping at the diner to retrieve Billy’s number. Deciding it would take too much time, she drove on. The urge to call him was strong, but she ignored it. After her experience with Wyatt, she didn’t think she would ever be able to stand a man’s touch again, and she shuddered with the knowledge that Billy would expect it of her. No. She would go to Jackson and explain what was going on. He wouldn’t be able to not challenge Wyatt, and he’d win that match. If he didn’t, she would stick around long enough to do the deed herself. She hoped she could avoid her father and Billy long enough to get that done. Then she would disappear. The road wound further and further up while she thought it through, while she made plans. She had an aunt in Pensacola. She would go there for as long as possible. Eventually her mother and father would tell Billy where to find her—probably sooner rather than later—but it would give her a little space, some time to plan. Once she was free of the mate bond, she would be okay. She had a trust fund from her grandmother. It wasn’t a lot, but it would get her a new identity. It would be enough to hide her. Finally she pulled into the Alpha’s driveway. She glanced at the clock. One hour and five minutes. The sun was setting and the sky looked ominous. She’d made the drive in silence, ignoring the

distraction of the radio, but she bet the forecast called for snow. One hell of a storm if her experience was right. Turning off the car, she took a last long look around and lifted the door handle. Now or never, Chloe. Somehow, despite the shaking that had taken over her limbs, she made it to the front door and rang the bell. She’d heard Jackson had a screener. He took one look at her and ushered her into an upstairs library. Telling her sternly to wait, he disappeared. Seconds later she heard pounding on the stairs and braced herself for the reaction. Despite what she’d gone through with Wyatt, the logical side of her brain knew werewolves didn’t condone this kind of treatment of bonded mates. The door flew open and she couldn’t help the cringe. Jackson, her father, Billy. Thankfully she was standing in front of a chair. She sank down, barely registering when her ass hit the seat. Billy got to her first. He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands creating a gentle cradle around her face. “Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded yes, afraid to trust her voice. His thumbs lightly traced the bruises over her cheeks while he searched her eyes. “He’s as good as dead, Chloe. I promise. You’ll be free to make you own choices.” She forced the need to beg and weep away. It wasn’t good to beg for someone’s death, was it? Her father pushed Billy out of the way and he looked as close to crying as she felt. She cupped his face in her palms. “It’s okay, Daddy. It’s okay.” He did weep then, but she managed to keep herself in check. Last, Jackson knelt before her. He reached up and caught the one tear she lost. His smile was soft and gentle, completely at odds with the hard look in his eyes. “We’ll fix this, Chloe,” he promised. And him she believed. Maybe because she didn’t have a personal stake in his life. She nodded. “There are things I need to tell you.” He sat back on his heels, staying at her eye level, and she appreciated his concern. She didn’t think he’d still express it when she told the whole sordid tale. She forced the whole thing out, from her first meeting with Wyatt when he claimed she’d teased him into claiming her to now. She talked about Wyatt’s determination to force Jackson out by threatening Summer, and her own escape. By the time she finished, all three men were silent. Her father and Jackson were grim-faced and determined. Billy scared her. His gaze was so remote, she cringed. If her behavior disgusted him, it was better to know now, right? It would make it easier to cut his tenuous hold on her life. Finally she rose, and they stood in a semi-circle around her. She met each one’s gaze, even Billy’ s, and he smiled at her when she didn’t shrink. Her jaw clenched. She had no idea what he expected from her. “I need to go,” she announced. A chorus of voices rose in protest, but it was her father’s that finally dissuaded her. He shook his head. “There’s a bad storm coming and we both know you can’t drive in it. Stay here and we’ll talk again in the morning.” Finally she nodded, and Jackson led her down the hall. Just inside the room, he pointed to a panel on the wall. “The top button is an alert. The bottom is the intercom. It will ring in the kitchen first. If it isn’t answered, it’ll page me. Use it if you need it, Chloe,” he said sternly. He turned to walk out the door but stopped, meeting her gaze. “Billy lives in the house, too. If I don’t answer, he will.” A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She needed to make a plan to leave. The last thing she wanted was to involve anyone else. ***** Jackson left Chloe in her room and let his civilized mask slip. He prided himself on being a modern werewolf, a modern Alpha. He planned to take them into the future, not ground them in the past. He’d struggled the last couple of days over whether he should let two of his pack members go after an outcast, or force them to comply with his wishes. One look at Chloe, though, and he reverted to the

primitive nature of his ancestors. The abuse of a woman was not something he could ignore. Especially not if the woman rightfully belonged to his friend and Beta. And when the outcast in question posed a threat to his mate? Well, he had to be dealt with. Chloe hadn’t been able to give him names, but he knew who was most likely to plot with Wyatt. They would all be dealt with. He returned to his office to make a plan with Nolan and Billy. The challenge would be his as the senior wolf on the totem pole. The trick would be to get Wyatt onto his territory. That shouldn’t be difficult. He would just let it be known he had offered Chloe protection. There was no way Wyatt could ignore that and save face. He returned to the study to find Nolan and Billy in the middle of a heated argument. “She’s mine, Nolan. I’m not letting her get away.” “I’m not saying you should. But right now, she’s fragile and scared and she needs some space.” “She’ll get over it,” Billy growled. They stood inches apart, both on the balls of their feet and ready to pounce. Nolan bared his teeth. “No. I didn’t protect her when I should have, but I won’t make that mistake again. She can’t handle one of us right now.” Billy came down on his heels hard, an incredulous look on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and paced across the room. “Jesus, Nolan. I’d never hurt her. I’d never push her into something she isn’t ready for. But I can’t let her go. You understand that.” Nolan shook his head and sighed. “You’d try not to, Billy. But it’s in your nature to claim. How long do you think you could fight that?” Billy ground his teeth. “As long as I have to. I’ve managed the last few months fine. And I’m not letting her run.” His last sentence escalated the tension in the room again, and Jackson stepped in. “Gentlemen, I think you’re jumping ahead a little. First I need to deal with Wyatt and smoke out his co-conspirators.” Billy turned to him with narrowed eyes. “Underwood is mine.” Jackson gave him a feral smile. “Really? Last time I checked I was still Alpha here.” He thought for a minute Billy wasn’t going to back down, the need to protect his mate obviously his number one priority. Finally he stepped back, his aggressive stance relaxing a little. He nodded. “What did you have in mind?” “We let it be known Chloe is here, under my protection. It won’t be long before he comes after her, and he won’t come alone. He’ll expect me, you, and Clint, and he’ll come prepared. There are a few others we can trust, though. Nolan, Richard. I want them in the house, too.” Billy nodded. “I’ll get Richard.” Jackson glanced at Nolan. “We’ll want the women here, too.” “Yes. Definitely,” Nolan agreed. They spent a couple of hours making plans and going over possible scenarios before finally calling it night. The other two men left; Billy to find his bed, and Nolan to get his mate, while Jackson entered his bedroom. He stood in the doorway and watched Summer for a long time, his heart hammering a staccato beat. ***** Light flooding in through the open door woke him first, and he instinctively rolled to his feet in a fighter’s stance before registering who his early morning visitor was. Billy stood in the doorway, posture stiff and expression black. He jerked his head over his shoulder and stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him. Jackson pulled on his jeans and checked to make sure Summer was still asleep before following him out. He found Billy waiting with Nolan downstairs by the front door. “What’s up?” he asked. It had to be something pretty serious for Billy to get him up in the middle of the night. “The village is under attack. And Chloe has disappeared.”

“Shit,” he mumbled. Hands on his hips, he glared at the two men. “Did anyone see her leave? Nolan shook his head, looking worried to death. “She won’t go to the village, though. She’s probably well away from here by now.” Billy growled his displeasure with that idea, and Jackson silenced him with a look. “Later. What’s going on in the village?” Billy shook his head once before answering. “Just got a call that there are a bunch of weres causing havoc. Clint and Richard went down but haven’t reported in yet.” Incredulous, Jackson arched his eyebrows, wondering when he’d lost control of his own house. “And I’m the last one you bothered to notify?” “Nolan and I were already up. Clint never sleeps, and Richard spent the night prowling the grounds. They left before I even hung up the phone.” Jackson felt his molars grind and forced his jaw to relax. “Let’s go then,” he said, stripping his jeans off. “Nolan, you stay here with Summer and Rebecca.” Stepping onto the front porch, he embraced the transformation, quickly shifting from man to wolf. With Billy at his side, they headed into the woods and ran down the mountainside, splitting up at the bottom to approach the village from opposite ends. Main Street looked like the werewolf version of a barroom brawl. Snarls filled the air as forms grappled across the street and the smell of blood filled the air. Jackson stepped out into the open, threw his head back and howled a challenge. Silence fell over the area before a big, black wolf stepped up. McGarvey. Confirming Jackson’s suspicion, the wolf crouched and lunged. Jackson met him in midair, his jaws clamping around the other werewolf’s throat. They landed with a thud and with a great shake, Jackson snapped his neck and dropped the lifeless body to the street. Another wolf leapt into the clearing and the fighting again broke out around him. When there was no one left to fight and the blood haze began to clear, he looked around and took stock. Wyatt was nowhere to be seen and eighteen werewolves lay dead or badly injured. Shifting, he met Billy and passed out assignments. The mess had to be dealt with and a search party organized for Wyatt. His scent was all over the place, but he’d managed to escape. Snow flurries began falling, and he lifted his head to the sky. The sun wouldn’t be visible today. Satisfied the work was well under way, he turned to start his search for Wyatt when he felt Summer’s call. ***** Summer awoke from the dream with a start and glanced at the window. Still dark and the bed was empty. She let her senses flare out but didn’t get a feeling for Jackson’s location. Fear skittered along her spine, and she recalled the dream in vivid detail—Jackson lying broken and bloody in the snow, his chest still. It would happen soon if she didn’t stop it. Jumping up, she separated the blinds and looked around. No snow yet. Light was peeking over the horizon, but the sky was dark and ominous. She hurried to the closet and dug out warm clothes and a coat, then went in search of Jackson. She walked to the staircase at the front of the hall and looked down. Nolan slept in a chair by the front door. She frowned. What had happened while she slept? Knowing she’d never get down without waking him, she crept back down the hall to the old unused servant’s stairs. They opened in the butler’s pantry off the kitchen, and she was relieved to find both empty. She exited through the kitchen door onto the wide back porch and stepped down into the yard. Unease rode her hard as she turned slowly, trying to decide which direction to take. She felt the biggest pull from the village and headed toward the path that led down to it. Her feeling of danger rose with each step. By the time she reached the turnoff for Jackson’s private glade, she fought an overwhelming nausea with every footfall. Gulping against her tight throat, she stopped and leaned over, gripping her knees, and breathed deep, trying to get control over her rolling stomach.

Overcome by the sensation that the woods had eyes, she straightening from her crouch and swept her gaze over the area bit by bit, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Taking a cautious step forward, she concentrated on making the next bend in the path, more certain than ever that Jackson was in serious jeopardy. She didn’t make it two steps before a haze fell over her senses, and she knew the witch’s talisman was close by. But hadn’t Jackson thrown it in the other direction? A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and another clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream. He dragged her backwards into the forest to the glade before dropping her on the ground. When she tried to stand and run, he grabbed her by the hair and spun her around to face him, backhanding her hard enough to knock her down again. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them to clear. She would not cry in front of this man. He sneered at her and swung the chain and talisman in front of her eyes. “Now what good does it do to have a witch for a mate if she has such a big weakness?” he asked. She glared up at him, her energy crackling in the air around her. As long as he held the talisman, he was shielded from her magic. Filled with frustration, she looked for a way to escape. The first snowflake fell. She stared at it a moment before surging to her feet and running for the trail. She didn’t even make the trees before his arm closed around her throat, cutting off her oxygen supply. Disbelief coursed through her as the edges of her vision went black. She’d seen Jackson’s death, not hers. She wanted to tell him she’d changed her mind. She did love him. She could spend her life, happily, bonded to a werewolf. To him. She wanted time for a fresh start, and she did the only thing she could think of before finally passing out. Reaching for the neglected ties between them, she called for help. ***** Chloe was half way to Georgia before guilt forced her to pull over. She leaned her head against the steering wheel and fought with her conscious, finally giving in and turning the car around. Beating her palm against the wheel, she cursed her stupidity. Shit! They don’t need my help. If I go back, I’ll just end up trapped. The compulsion to return was too strong to ignore, though, and after a couple of hours, she turned on the narrow road and headed to the village and home. When the snow started, she almost cried. She was trapped for sure now, her driving abilities not good enough to get her back down the mountain through the drifts that would fill the pass. On Main Street, her eyes widened in shock, and she hit the accelerator. Carnage—dead werewolves—littered the road. Wyatt had started his war. She searched for her father and was relieved when she didn’t see him. He must still be at Jackson’s place. She also didn’t see the Alpha or her mate, and the sense of urgency that had driven her back rose within her. The car screeched to a stop in front of her parent’s house. She jammed it in park and leapt out, leaving the motor running. Inside she went straight to the gun cabinet, glad her father in non-typical werewolf fashion was an avid shooter. Grabbing the keys from the top ledge, she fumbled with the lock with shaky hands. She pulled out the first rifle her hand closed over, a .308 Remington, and dug a handful of cartridges out of the ammunition drawer before slamming the doors shut and re-latching the lock. Outside she looked between the car and the snow-filled sky. Her sense that time was running out grew. She briefly debated using the car to try to get to the turn off on the other side of town that went to Jackson’s or going through the woods. Deciding the drive was too risky, she took off through the underbrush behind the house, searching out the deer path that would take her up. It was a long, slippery climb, but she made it in record time. She heard the sound of fighting before she saw them. When she reached the small clearing, no one noticed her as she picked out the fighters. Wyatt’s coat contrasting darkly against Jackson’s. Long gashes raked Jackson’s sides, and the snow was red with blood. Billy, Clint, and Richard all hovered nearby, but none dared interfere. Her lip curled with derision. She felt Wyatt’s triumph—he’d avoided the fighting in town to save his strength against Jackson. He couldn’t win any other way but by cheating. Kneeling in the snow, she lifted the rifle to her shoulder and took aim.

***** Shifting on the run, Jackson barreled through the crowded street and ran for the glade. His flight caught everyone’s attention and he heard Billy yell out behind him. There was no time to pause and explain. He felt Summer’s need, knew she was in trouble, and somehow knew exactly where she was. Must be the bond. The snow fell harder, and he knew soon it would be blinding and disorienting. He put on another burst of speed, registering the pounding of feet behind him and knew at least some of his pack would come to his aid. He didn’t know what to expect, only that Wyatt had his mate. Breaking through the trees, his gaze first sought her out. She lay crumbled on the ground on the other side of the clearing, her breaths puffing slightly in the air before her. He breathed a sigh of relief that she still lived and turned, snarling at Wyatt. The other wolf would pay with his life for the damage done today. They attacked at the same time. Wyatt, fresh from his lack of fighting, rushed in, swiping a sharp-clawed paw along his side. Growling, he ignored the tearing sting and went for the other wolf’s throat. His teeth grazed it, leaving a long scratch and trail of blood in the snow. They attacked and counter attacked; each scoring hits and misses until the ground was covered in red. He knew Wyatt was trying to wear him down to the point he could come in for an easy kill. Jackson snarled and circled the other wolf. He wouldn’t be so easy to take down. Suddenly Wyatt saw an opening and leapt at him. Jackson rolled out of the way, exposing his belly to the vicious claws that swept down at him. He continued the roll to the side of the clearing and stood panting, watching Wyatt gloat. He had no time left. He had to go in for the kill. His muscles bunched in preparation to leap when the shot rang out. Wyatt rolled and shifted, his hands clutching his chest when he staggered to his feet. He looked down in shock. Chloe stepped into the clearing in front of him and lifted the rifle to her shoulder. “You,” Wyatt croaked. “Die already, you son of a bitch,” she answered and pulled the trigger again. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground. Dropping the rifle, she heaved a great sob and met Jackson’s gaze before she turned and fled.

Chapter Seven Jackson walked with slow, careful steps and sank into the chair behind his desk. His office was filled to the point of overflowing, and he gratefully accepted the cup of steaming tea Billy passed him. He was surprised to see how much his inner circle had grown while he was out of commission. Summer and Rebecca had become fast friends during the last couple of days, and both women sat in the chairs by the window. Billy took his usual place in front of the desk, and Clint sat at his side. Richard and Nolan lounged against the back wall. “Okay, let’s have a report,” he said to Billy. “Eighteen dead. Well, nineteen if we include Wyatt. Thirteen of them were conspirators. There were five survivors among them, most of them not from our pack. The plan was to stir up enough trouble

that no one would grumble too loudly when Wyatt took over. He decided last week the best way to catch you off guard was to go after Summer, but he needed a diversion.” “So they attacked the village.” “Yes, but apparently that was rushed since Chloe took off. He was afraid she would come here and warn you. She didn’t hear that part of the plan, though, so we weren’t prepared.” Jackson nodded and looked over to see Summer watching him. He felt lust surge at the vision of her haloed by the sun, and she frowned in response. He almost laughed. Who knew she was such a mother hen? He appreciated her concern, but he couldn’t take much more abstinence. Billy cleared his throat and Jackson returned his attention to the briefing. “The bodies have all been taken care of.” Burned in a fire hot enough to destroy the DNA. “And the widows have been notified and arrangements made.” Silence fell over the room. No one liked to consider the bereavement one would feel at the loss of a mate. Billy looked at his clenched hands before going on. “Chloe is free. And gone,” he said quietly. Jackson arched an eyebrow. It was the first he’d heard that. “Are you going after her?” Billy turned and met Nolan’s eyes. “Not yet. She agreed to keep in touch before she left. I can give her some time.” Jackson released a sigh of relief. Chloe needed the kind of healing only time and distance would give her. Nolan understood that, and maybe Billy was beginning to. He looked over at Summer again and smiled. She arched an eyebrow and shook her head. Her eyes danced at him, their message loud and clear. Really think you’re up for it, lover boy? His cock jerked in response. Oh yeah. Time to clear out the room. He looked at Billy. “Anything else?” When he shook his head in the negative, Jackson cast a pointed look around the room, which quickly cleared out. Summer stood and laughed, gliding toward him with that smooth walk she had. She settled on the corner of his desk within easy reach. “Well, that was rude.” He put his hands on her hips and slid her over until she was in front of him. “They’re werewolves. They understand.” His fingers crept under her sweater and trailed across her stomach. Gasping, she shifted a little closer. “Do you think Chloe will be okay?” she asked. He leaned forward and lifted the edge of the sweater, tracing the skin he exposed with his tongue. Her moan was soft in the quiet room. “I’m sure she will be. She grew up here. She’ll come back. She’s crazy about her parents, and Billy is crazy about her.” He pulled the shirt over her head and popped open the front snap of her bra, leaving the sides hanging loose. He took one pink, pebbled nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue over it. She wiggled and it popped free of his mouth. Looking up, he met her eyes and smiled. “I’m crazy about you,” he whispered and reached for the snap on her jeans. Her breathing turned to pants. “I don’t think you’re up for this.” He grinned. “Oh, I’m definitely up for it.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course. But you were hurt…” He put a finger over her lips, silencing her. She sucked it into her mouth and circled the tip with her tongue. His jeans grew painfully tight. Setting her hands on his shoulders, she gently shoved him away. “There’s something I need to say first.” He groaned. “Can’t you say it later?” He pulled his shirt off, and her eyes grew round and heated. His jeans were next, and then her hand was circling his cock while she licked her lips and smiled wickedly. “Oh no.” He stopped her before she could drop to her knees. “I need to be inside you. Plenty of time for that later, my dear.” He leered at her, reminding them both of the Little Red Riding Hood

conversation in the woods. She laughed, but tracing one of his new scars sobered quickly. “You’re sure about this?” In answer, he took her mouth in a long, slow kiss. When he broke away, they were both panting. “You have about two seconds to talk before I bend you over this desk, Summer.” She put her hands on his waist and slid them up his body. Her touch fired his blood, every inch of him ready for her. She was out of time. He spun her around and leaned her over the desk, setting her palms flat as a brace. He entered her pussy in one sure stroke and stood still, savoring the feel her around him. He leaned across her back and blew in her ear. “So talk,” he whispered. “Hmm. Later.” She thrust back against him in silent demand, and he pulled out. When he didn’t continue, she looked over her shoulder and frowned at him. “Hello? What are you doing?” He ran his hands over her ass and grinned at her. “Enjoying the view?” “Don’t be a smart ass, Jackson.” “No, I am really enjoying the view. I like you like this. Spread out before me, willing and able.” He thrust into her and she hissed. “Yesss.” “So what were you going to say? Maybe you were going to tell me why you left the house?” He couldn’t quite keep the bite out of his voice when he asked the question, but it didn’t seem to faze her. That both pleased and irritated him. He started moving in earnest, long sure strokes guaranteed to drive them both higher. “I had a dream,” she said between gasps. “I wanted to warn you.” “Instead you almost got yourself killed. I can’t let you do that, Summer.” He stopped moving, and she choked on a sob. “God, don’t stop now!” “I have to protect you. It’s in my nature, part of the bond between us. I thought we were finally getting somewhere. Don’t test me on this, Summer.” “I won’t. I’m not. Move, dammit!” He thrust again, setting a steady but slow pace. He felt his balls tighten but fought the need to come. She wasn’t ready yet. And he was finding it an interesting way to have a conversation with her. At least he had her undivided attention. “So you came out to warn me? You were worried about me?” He reached for her clit. He wouldn’t be able to hold out for long after all. Rubbing hard circles over the area, he was rewarded almost instantly. Her pussy pulsed around him. Just a little more. “Yes, I was worried.” “Hmm. Worried about someone you don’t even like.” “You idiot, I love you. If I didn’t like you, I would have stayed inside where it was nice and warm and safe.” Her words sent joy crashing through him. He didn’t expect the exclamation, would have been happy just to get her to admit she cared about him. He pressed hard enough on her clitoris to send her body rushing into orgasm. When she clenched hard around him, gripping his cock like a glove, he grabbed her hips with both hands and pounded into her. He seemed to come from his toes up, and his roar of release should have brought the roof down. Collapsing back in the chair, he dragged her down onto his lap. Leaning his head back, he smiled at the ceiling, thrilled with the way his life had changed in less than two weeks. “I love you, too,” he said softly. “Hmm. I know,” she whispered before drifting off to sleep. Laughing, he stood and carried her to the bedroom. He could definitely get used to the changes. The End

Author Bio As a native of the South, is it any wonder Loribelle has a love of story telling? She started writing seriously as a teenager and finished her first manuscript, a mystery, when she was 19. After a few bumps along the way and stints as an Army MP, a waitress, a book store manager, a student, and a wedding photographer, she turned to writing full time. She divides her time between a husband, three kids, writing, and a part time photography gig. She is also a member of Romance Writers of America and Passionate Ink. Born and raised in Atlanta, she currently calls the Wiregrass region of southern Alabama home. Also Available from Loribelle Hunt Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon Lunar Mates 2: Bad Moon Rising Bound by Love In the Runes: Defending Serenity

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