Dark Wolf Running

Then he stepped away, leaving her standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, staring blankly into the dense, impenetrable darkness of the forest...wondering what in God’s name had just happened to her.

Chapter 2

Forty-five minutes later, Wyatt stood with his shoulders propped against the thick trunk of an ancient pine, waiting just inside the dark line of the wooded park that bordered the back of the meticulously kept house before him. Silvery rays of rain-dampened moonlight bathed the small home in an ethereal glow, giving it a spectral appearance, like an apparition rising from the mist. The rain wasn’t heavy, the trees shielding him from the pattering drops, but the rumble of thunder promised that another storm was on its way—which meant he was in for a long, wet night.

Doing his best to ignore the thick weight of sexual hunger keeping him company, Wyatt used his wolf eyes as he kept watch over the silent house, noting the personal touches that he knew were the work of the woman who lived there. The lavender trim had to have been Elise’s doing, as well as the vivid red rose bushes that climbed the white walls. Everywhere he looked, there were little sparks of her personality that set the house apart from its neighbors, much like the woman herself.

Even in a pack full of preternatural werewolves, Elise Drake stood out as something vivid and bright and unique, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

She was shimmering and white-hot to the touch, and yet, she worked so hard to conceal herself beneath a cold, excessively controlled exterior. Struggled to cut herself off from the world, as if she needed no one to help her along the way.

On the one hand, Wyatt still savored the memory of how she’d felt in his arms, somehow better than any other woman he’d ever held before. Soft and lush, despite her nerves, with the mouthwatering scent of her body filling his head; the sensation had been richer, deeper...and impossibly sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced. Something that he knew would keep him up in the quiet hours of the night, when his body craved the feel of her curves beneath him, cushioning his heavy thrusts, welcoming him into the slick, clutching depths of her body. He loved that she wasn’t a little stick-and-bones wisp of a woman. Loved her shape and her height and the way that she fit against him.

On the other hand, he couldn’t ignore the frustrating fact that she deserved a man who could give her a hell of a lot more than he could. One who wasn’t riddled with the guilt of his sins. Who could hold her through the night after losing himself in her beautiful body. Who could offer her everything, instead of something that would most likely end in a bitter nothing for both of them. But fate was a fickle bastard, and he was done arguing with himself about it. Elise wasn’t someone he could ignore or forget. Staying away from her wasn’t an option, and though he’d promised her patience, he wanted her now.

Ever since the night of Max Doucet’s Novitiate’s ceremony, Wyatt had known she was his. A rogue wolf had bitten Max because of his sister’s association with the Runners, and the purpose of the ceremony had been to determine whether or not the teenager would survive his first change. In a surprising act of loyalty to the Bloodrunners, Elise and her brother had sided with the half-breed hunters that night, standing against their sadistic father and his maniacal plans.

It had been a macabre, hellish scene, and yet, Wyatt hadn’t been able to take his focus off the woman standing no more than a handful of feet away from him. The late-autumn winds had raged, whipping the thick, shimmering strands of her dark red hair against the perfect angles of her face, pulling her shirt tight against the womanly curves of her body. The violent gusts had surrounded him with her warm, intoxicating scent, creating a reaction in his body from which he doubted he would ever recover.

Take. Keep. Mine. Those three guttural words had echoed through his head over and over, too many times to count. Primal, raw and savagely possessive.

But while Elise Drake’s scent might have told him she was meant to be his, body and soul, he wasn’t going to allow that knowledge to rule his life. Even if his past had been...different, that wasn’t something he would just accept. And he wasn’t looking to make her the answer to his problems, as if saving her could save him from the mistakes he’d made. This wasn’t a goddamn do-over. He just wanted to protect her. To hear her laugh. See her smile. And be there when she finally realized there were still things in life worth living for, rather than just existing.

She’d arrived home only a handful of minutes ago, and as she moved past one of the back windows, Wyatt couldn’t help but follow the lines of her body with his gaze, appreciating the graceful, sensual way that she moved. Tension gripped him, and it took a significant force of effort to hold his position. He was debating whether or not to move in closer, when his cell phone silently vibrated in his pocket; a quick glance at the number told him it was Carla. Knowing she was going to rib him over his dance with Elise, he choked back a curse and quietly answered the phone. “What’s up?”

Carla’s husky laughter filled his ear. “And here I was wondering if I should be asking you the same thing.”

“Cute,” he muttered with a snort.

“I know, huh? But believe it or not, I had a reason to call beyond trying to get a rise out of you. A set of scouts on the south border called in saying they saw something. They tried to track it, but the rain that was coming down made it impossible. Just thought you might want to know, seeing as how your lady bird is in that vicinity.”

Wyatt glanced at his watch. “When did the call come in?”

“They phoned it into the command center in Shadow Peak about an hour ago. Guess the guys on duty figured we were all too busy with the wedding to pass it along. And before you freak, a bunch of us are already on our way up to talk to them. We’ll make sure they never make the same mistake again.”

He grunted in response, wishing like hell that Eric had been able to convince Elise to relocate to the Alley. The siblings had argued about it for days, after Eric had permanently moved into one of the cabins there with Chelsea. But for some reason the stubborn woman refused to leave her home, even when so many of the townspeople continued to treat her like shit simply because of what had happened with her old man.

He started to get a bad feeling in his gut. “You think someone’s sneaking around on Silvercrest land again?” The last time it’d happened, they’d nearly had their asses handed to them.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Carla responded, while the guys in the vehicle with her talked in the background. “Every pack on the eastern seaboard knows we’re still recovering from Daddy Drake’s bullshit. They’ll all come sniffing around eventually, just to test us. The Silvercrest have been dominant for too long now not to have a long list of Lycans who’d like nothing more than to see us tumble.”

Lifting his free hand, he rubbed at the knots of tension in the back of his neck. “We’ve already tumbled.”

“Yeah, but we’re still on our land. Trust me, there’s going to be someone who wants to try to change that fact, if for nothing more than the bragging rights. The pack that knocks out the Silvercrest, even when we’re not at our best, will be one that makes others cower. After what happened between Eric and the Whiteclaw a few weeks ago, you know those bastards have to be drooling for it.”

Wyatt didn’t doubt that she was right. Eric had met his human wife while she was searching for her younger sister, Perry. Making a bad choice, Perry had gone chasing after the wrong guy and ended up falling in with the Whiteclaw pack who lived to the south of the Silvercrest. With the Runners’ help, Eric had been able to prove that the Whiteclaw had partnered up with the Donovans, a corrupt local Lycan family, on a number of illegal activities, the most horrific being one that involved human girls. With the Donovans’ support, the Whiteclaw had been drugging the girls and pimping them out for Lycan gang rapes. The drugs not only acted as an aphrodisiac on the girls, but also impaired their memories of the attacks. The Runners had managed to close down the strip club in Wesley, a human town at the foot of the mountains, that the Whiteclaw had been using to find the girls, but tensions between the two packs had never been higher. Roy Claymore, who led the Whiteclaw wolves, was thirsty for Silvercrest blood, and Wyatt knew it wouldn’t be long before the Silvercrest found themselves embroiled in battle.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, running a palm down his face to clear away the misting drops of rain. “I’ve got a feeling something’s coming down. Soon.”

There was a wry edge to Carla’s worried tone. “And here I thought you’d have nothing but butterflies in your belly after that little performance on the dance floor tonight. We were all damn near riveted by the steam coming off you two smoldering little lovebirds.”

Christ. Wondering how long it would be before Eric confronted him about his sister, he muttered, “I don’t have time for you to mess with my head right now, Reyes. I wanna check the area, see if anything’s around.”

“Okay. But if you find trouble, don’t be stupid,” she told him, all traces of teasing gone. “We’re gonna check out where the sighting took place after we’re done in town, so we won’t be far. Call me before you go charging in like a bull or I’ll never let you live it down.”

“You never let me live anything down,” he grunted, ending the call before she could come back with another smart-ass remark.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Wyatt pushed away from the tree and began making his way through the woods, careful to keep one eye on Elise’s house. He’d learned the hard way when he was younger to always trust his instincts, and right now they were shouting at him that something wasn’t right. The restlessness of his inner wolf told him that the beast agreed. He drew in a series of slow, deep breaths, but the slight mist of rain made it impossible to pick up any trace of Lycan musk, the damp affecting his keen sense of smell. If there were someone out there with him, he was going to have to find him using good old-fashioned tenacity and skill.

Wyatt almost relished the thought of getting his hands on the trespasser, thinking a good knock-’em-down, claw-’em-up scuffle was exactly what he needed to work out his frustration. And if the bastard came anywhere near Elise, he was going to get more than a fight.

If he so much as set foot on her property, Wyatt was going to personally send him straight to hell.

* * *

Breathe in, breathe out. In...out. Slow and easy.

Setting her purse and car keys on her kitchen table, Elise rolled her head over her shoulders, repeating the silent mantra while wondering if her heart rate would ever return to normal. The drive back up to Shadow Peak tonight had seemed to take twice as long as it usually did, her hands damp against the steering wheel, the rhythmic slapping of the windshield wipers keeping perfect timing with the frenzied rate of her pulse.

Considering she was reeling from one innocent dance, she couldn’t deny that Wyatt Pallaton certainly had a way of playing havoc with a woman’s equilibrium.

By the time she’d spun around on the dance floor, ready to tell him to stay the hell away from her, he was gone. Needing to get out of there, she’d found Eric and Chelsea and told them she wasn’t feeling well, then immediately headed home. Now all she wanted was to run a hot bath, put on some soothing music and soak in her tub, doing her best to forget about the man who had practically seduced her with nothing more than a smoldering look.

And the way he’d called her El had damn near made her melt.

Shivering with the decadent memory of every huskily spoken word he’d said to her, she moved to the counter and opened a cupboard, taking down a tall glass and filling it with ice-cold water from the door in her refrigerator. She tilted her head back and took a long drink, then pressed the chilled glass against her forehead, her thoughts in turmoil. Why her, damn it? There were no doubt dozens of single women in Shadow Peak who would have been ecstatic at the prospect of drawing his eye, regardless of his Runner status. But for some insane reason, Wyatt seemed to have singled her out, and she had no idea why. Was he one of those macho jerks who got off on a challenge? Had he been dared? Was this all just some kind of cruel, sick joke to him?

Cut it out, her conscience lectured. He isn’t like that, and you damn well know it.

“What I know is that I’m going out of my mind,” she grumbled into the lonely silence of the house. Hating that awful silence, she’d just lifted the glass to her lips again, when someone softly knocked on the kitchen door that opened onto her carport. Startled, she flinched, sending water sloshing over the side of the glass and onto the tiled floor. Taking a hesitant step forward, she asked, “Who is it?”

“Elise?” a deep, familiar voice called out. “It’s me, Eddie.”

Setting the glass down on the counter, she lifted her hands, pressing her fingertips to her temples, unable to deny the slight twinge of disappointment fluttering in her chest. Had she actually hoped that it might be Wyatt at her door? How freaking crazy was that?

“Elise? Are you okay?”

“Just a second, Eddie,” she muttered, reaching for a dish towel to mop up the floor. Damn it, she was too tired for this. Too tense. Too everything to deal with her well-meaning if slightly obsessed neighbor tonight.

Several weeks ago, not long after Eric had first met Chelsea, Elise had come home from work one day and found her kitchen door slightly open, when she was always careful to lock up when she left. She’d been receiving threatening phone calls for some time and had been worried someone was inside, waiting for her. When her neighbor, Eddie Browning, had come home from work at his stepfather’s garage and found her lingering on the doorstep, he’d searched the house for her to make sure no one was hiding inside, and then she’d thanked him and sent him home. But there’d been a lingering vibe in the air that had completely freaked her out. Nervous and scared, she’d tried to have someone from the pack-run security offices in town come over to take a look, but they’d refused. So she’d contacted Eric, asking him for help, but he also hadn’t been able to detect an intruder’s scent. Then all hell had broken loose when an angry crowd had gathered in front of her house, and a jackass named Glenn Farrow had publicly accused her of making the whole thing up in some kind of bizarre plea for attention. The crowd had joined in, and the accusations had grown ugly, bred by lingering animosity toward her father. Eric had kicked Farrow’s ass, and the bastard had thankfully given her a wide berth ever since.

Shaken by the experience, Elise had made plans to have a new alarm system installed the following afternoon. Eddie, however, had proven to be even better than her security system, keeping a watchful eye on her property for what seemed like all hours of the day. The only problem was that he claimed to see someone snooping around her house on a regular basis, and now she rarely put any stock in his claims. He was a nice young man, and she knew he meant well, but she also knew he was easily confused...and she couldn’t help but wish that he’d be just a little less focused on her life.

Stepping to the door, she pulled back the short curtain that covered the small panes of glass, revealing her worried-looking neighbor. With his baby-blue eyes, cherubic face and golden hair, he looked so much younger than his twenty-five years. It still surprised her that Eddie had initially been considered a suspect in her attack, since he was so childlike and sweetly naive. But he’d thankfully been cleared when his alibi for that night was confirmed.

“You need to go back home now,” she told him, careful to keep her voice firm as she stepped closer to the door. He didn’t frighten her, but she sure as hell didn’t want to do anything to encourage him. “You don’t want anyone to see you over here, remember? It’s only going to cause trouble for you with the pack.”

“But this is important,” he argued, his blue eyes clouded with concern. “I saw someone at your house again tonight. I think he was tampering with your alarm.”

“Eddie, we’ve already been through this,” she said with a sigh. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but it was for his own safety. Nothing good could come from his befriending her. “You have to stop watching my house.”

“But I’m sure of it this time, Elise. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fi—” she started to say, only to have her words trail off as she glanced down, noticing that the latch on the door was flicked to the unlocked position. Elise was positive that she hadn’t left it that way when she’d locked up before leaving for the wedding, and she’d come in through the front door when she’d gotten home. There was no way she’d missed checking the door, and familiar feelings of terror and anxiety began to work their way through her system, settling like a toxin in her muscles, making her head feel light, her stomach pitchy. Turning around, Eddie’s low, fervent words faded to a buzzing whir in her head as she stepped away from the door and took a deep breath, searching for a scent, but as far as she could tell, there was nothing to cause alarm. Still, she walked across the kitchen, took one of the knives from her butcher’s block and headed down the hall, flicking on every light along the way, until she reached her bedroom.

With her pulse roaring in her ears, she peered into the room, but nothing looked out of place. Then she heard the floorboards softly creak behind her, and before she could scream, a meaty palm clamped around her throat, choking off her air, while a thick, muscled arm banded her middle, pinning her arms at her sides. To her horror, she felt the knife slip from her damp fingers, clattering when it landed at her feet.

No, she thought, as tears flooded her eyes, trailing over her face. This can’t be happening!

“Hello, cherry girl,” a deep, scratchy voice whispered in her ear. “Did you miss me?”

“Who the hell are you?” she wheezed, barely able to get the strangled words out, even though he’d loosened his hold on her throat.

“Don’t you remember me?” the man rasped, the crooning tone of his voice sickening her as much as it terrified.

“No,” she choked out, but Elise knew it was a lie. She may not have a conscious memory of his voice, but something inside her screamed in fear at its familiarity. “What do you want from me?” she cried, while dread twisted through every cell of her body, holding her in an agonizing clutch of pain.

He pressed his cold, slick lips to the side of her throat, nuzzling the vulnerable stretch of skin. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll refresh your memory. We all will.” A low, husky chuckle filled her ear, making her skin crawl. “But I might have to take a quick taste before I sneak you out of here. Just for old times’ sake.”

Oh, God. God, no. She’d rather die!

Air finally rushed its way into her lungs as she yanked her head to the side, her fear releasing in an ear-piercing scream. Elise twisted and fought like a madwoman to break free, but it didn’t matter. He was too strong, holding her tight against the front of his disgustingly aroused body as he began pulling her across the room. With sickening horror, she realized he was dragging her toward the bed. She drew in as much air as she could, screaming louder than she could ever remember doing. Screaming so hard that it hurt. Eyes watering and nose running, her throat ached as she sobbed and shouted. Then her attacker wrapped his thick arm around her throat, cutting off her air again, and her screams died to a pitiful, breathless gasp. Her vision blurred, tiny pinpricks of cold burning beneath her skin, his guttural voice feeding words she could no longer make sense of into her ear. But she knew what was coming. She was going to die. Slowly. Painfully. Cruelly.

Fight, damn it. Change!

She wished she could act on the survival instinct, but as her consciousness flickered, she knew it was too late. They’d broken her three years ago, leaving her on the verge of death in a pool of her own blood, barely breathing.

And now one of them had come back to finish the job.

Chapter 3

If the sound of those piercing screams had chilled his blood and fueled his rage, the silence that followed nearly stopped Wyatt’s heart. He’d been passing along the far back corner of her property when he’d caught the faint notes of that first terrified cry, and set off running as fast as he could. Within seconds, he’d crossed her backyard, shoving past her neighbor and ordering the guy to call the Runners’ security hotline, before tearing into the house through the kitchen door. He was hurrying toward Elise’s scent when he plowed straight into the bastard. Snarling, they crashed to the living-room floor as they each fought for the upper hand, landing crushing blows that would have killed a human.

“You like preying on women, you sadistic piece of shit?” Wyatt roared, releasing his claws and fangs as he gripped the male’s balaclava-covered head and slammed his skull against the hardwood floor. “Why don’t you try taking on someone your own size?”

“You don’t scare me, pretty boy,” the Lycan growled, his own deadly claws extending from the tips of his fingers. “I eat half-breed assholes like you for breakfast.”

They rolled across the floor, smashing into the coffee table, their booted feet knocking over furniture as they grappled, blocked and struck blows with animalistic savagery. His opponent was unnaturally strong, even for a Lycan, but Wyatt was fueled with the driving need to reach Elise and make sure she hadn’t been harmed. Blocking a blow to his neck, he used his feet to toss the asshole over his head and into one of the side tables, the delicate piece of furniture splintering under the male’s weight. They both twisted and lurched onto their feet, claws extended at their sides, facing off across what was left of a ruined sofa. Coarse, guttural chuffs of aggression rumbled deep in their chests, and then they exploded into action, shifting the upper halves of their bodies into the powerful shape of their beasts. With his head changed into the wolf’s larger form, the Lycan’s mask had dropped in pieces to the floor...but Wyatt didn’t recognize the beast staring back at him. Without being able to see the male’s human face, he couldn’t be sure if this were someone he’d met before or not. Dodging to evade a kick to his groin, Wyatt spun with a side kick aimed at the guy’s chest, slamming the bastard into one of the walls so hard he nearly went through it. Shaking his head to clear it, the Lycan lurched to his feet and maneuvered to the left, putting the broken table between them.

“Come on, asshole,” Wyatt growled through his muzzled snout, his graveled tone a perfect match for his feral expression of fury. “Either fight me or admit defeat. Stop wasting my time.”

“Yeah? You really think you’re so smart, don’t you?” the male sneered, his golden gaze glittering with something that looked strangely like humor.

What the hell did this jackass think was so funny? Wanting to finish this now, Wyatt’s top lip curled back over his deadly fangs. “I’m smart enough to take your ass to the ground.”

Snickering, the Lycan said, “And while you’re wasting your precious time in here with me, your little piece of ass is getting what she deserves.”

He froze, dread slithering through his system like a cold blade. Fuck, no. Had he actually made such a horrific mistake?

“What?” the Lycan taunted. “You didn’t really think one of us would come alone, did you?”

“You son of a bitch!” Wyatt snarled, torn between the choice of reaching Elise or staying to fight this jerk-off to the death. But there really wasn’t any choice at all. With a guttural roar, he grabbed the edges of a massive wooden bookshelf that lined an entire wall of the room and wrenched it forward, trapping the Lycan beneath the toppling case. Then he turned and raced toward the back of the house, where he knew Elise’s bedroom was located. In his panic, it felt as if he’d been fighting the Lycan for hours, though he knew in reality it’d only been a matter of seconds. But they were seconds that she’d been in danger. He’d mistakenly assumed she was in her room, trying to collect herself, safe now that he’d come to her rescue. But he couldn’t have gotten it more wrong. He should have known, damn it, instead of letting his bloodlust get the better of him.