Black Wolfe's Mate (Paranormal Shifter Romance) (3 page)

Quiver in fear?
A low, rumbling growl emanated from deep within, running the length of his body.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

He’d show her quivering. One massive paw slung across her hips while he used his tongue to lick the inside of her exposed leg from just above mid-thigh to the back of her knee. He realized his mistake almost immediately. Yes, she shuddered at the rasp of his wolf’s tongue upon her bared flesh, as was his intent, but he was once again reminded of just how tasty she was.

He licked her again, more slowly this time. Tasting. Savoring.

“Okay, okay, I get the point. Sorry I doubted you. You are most definitely male.”

Another lick — this one a reward, not an admonishment.

They remained like that for quite some time. His big, furry body pressed up against hers, warming her against the chill of the ocean breeze. Her hands tangled in his fur. For the first time in a very long time, his inner beast was quietly content.

When the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon, he gently prodded her awake. She had drifted off a few hours earlier and he hadn’t had the heart to wake her. In slumber, she looked so young, so tranquil. The fact that she held onto him like a much-loved teddy bear had absolutely nothing to do with it.

“Still here, huh?” she mumbled sleepily, looking toward the brightening sky. She patted him affectionately on the head. “Thank you,” she whispered sincerely. “I haven’t slept like that in...well, a very long time.”

Like what?
At best, she had dozed for three hours, and it had been a fitful rest, at that. She had murmured in her sleep, but even with his excellent hearing, he hadn’t been able to make out the words. Once, he swore she whimpered.

Why did she not sleep? Were her accommodations not acceptable? Were the people around her too loud? Surely Silas would have informed him if she had registered any complaints, but he made a mental note to inquire as soon as possible.

She pushed herself up and stretched. Remembering he was in wolf form, he allowed himself to look his fill, something he could not afford to do as a man. She was on the short side, but very soft and curvy. The thin beach clothes she wore did absolutely nothing to hide that. Of course, after spending a fair portion of the night pressed up against all that lush softness, he didn’t need to see it to know it was there. It was already ingrained in his memory. He would never get her scent out of his lungs now.

She leaned down — not too far, since his shoulders were at the same level as her hips — and pressed a kiss between his eyes, putting his snout right between her generous breasts. Unable to stop himself, his pink tongue made an appearance and licked her.

She stood back, laughing. “Guess I asked for that one, huh?” His beast panted softly, unrepentant. He’d do it again in a second if she allowed it.

“Maybe I’ll see you again tonight,” she said hopefully. He lowered his head. As much as he had enjoyed his time with her, allowing it to happen again would be ill-advised. The beast liked her too much. The man, at least, had the sense to leave her before things got out of hand. The beast didn’t care about things like that. It only knew that it liked her and wanted to be with her. Thankfully, even when one form was dominant, the other retained the ability to exhibit some control.

She sighed. It was such a mournful sound, he immediately began to reconsider.

“Hey,” she said softly, scratching lightly on the underside of his powerful jaws to get him to look at her. “It’s okay. I get it. Thanks for keeping me company.” She smiled as she turned to leave, but it was a very sad smile. “It’s probably better this way.”

The words came to him on the wind, a mere whisper of sound. Had he not been in his animal form, he would have missed them entirely. As he watched her climb the path toward the back of the castle, he realized what it was he had scented on her. Sorrow. Soul deep sorrow.

H
e would avoid her, that was all there was to it. He told himself that, over and over again, as he scrubbed himself in the shower. The soap he used was strongly fragranced, made specifically for his acute sense of smell, yet no matter how many times he rubbed it over his flesh, he could still scent her.

Still feel her hands in his hair, on his skin.

Still taste her on his tongue.

He dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt rolled partially up his muscular forearms. He craved the softness of the material on his overly sensitive flesh, and he heeded the call. He would indulge all of his senses today. Anything to override the imprint she had unknowingly left upon them.

Yet nothing pleased him. The well-worn, comfortable clothing chafed. Antoine’s five-star cuisine tasted like ash. The foul stench of expensive perfumes and colognes assaulted his nostrils. The sounds of haughty voices and shrill laughter grated against his nerves, and even the mirrored sunglasses he wore could not stop the dull, persistent ache deep within the recesses of his skull. It made him cranky.

The fact that he had such unpleasantness to deal with did not improve his mood. Dieter and Niko arrived before noon with the remaining survivors from the Northern Tier Pack. Resembling human teenagers, the “kids” were considered adolescents in wolf culture. Full control over their lupine natures would come with maturity, still several years away.

The boys were understandably sullen. Losing your pack was the same as having your entire family wiped out. Guilt lay heavily upon their shoulders. Had they not snuck away for a night of hellraising, they believed they may have been able to prevent some of the carnage.

Derrick and his men would work with them in an attempt to identify and ultimately eliminate whomever had taken it upon themselves to target peaceful shifter communities, but so far, the boys had been unable to provide much in the way of useful information. Their sires, they told them, had been pack enforcers, and would have been the first line of defense against the attackers. Unfortunately, they were also among those missing and presumed dead. 

After assuring the boys, Erik, Oskar, and Markus, they would do everything possible to find those responsible, Derrick charged Dieter with setting them up in their own quarters. They would be adopted into his pack; his people took care of their own. He and his men would guide them through the difficult growing pains they would experience over the next few decades. When the boys reached maturity, they would have the option of remaining with his pack, moving on to another, or trying to rebuild their own, if one of them exhibited Alpha qualities.

Afterward, all of his sentinels, Silas, Antoine, Niko, Steffen, Dieter, and Christophe, met to discuss this latest attack. Somebody, somewhere, was deliberately targeting Weres. There had been three raids over the last fifteen years alone. Considering the Were packs had been living under the radar for millennia without discovery, it was not a good sign.

Thus far, they had been unable to determine who was behind the attacks or why, but there were some very disturbing theories. This latest attack was the first to leave survivors behind and they hoped it would be the break they needed.

Derrick rubbed at his neck as he left the castle, feeling more irritable than ever. He had taken several steps toward the breakers before he realized what he was doing. He had been heading there with the intent of sitting on the rocks with Angelica. He had come to feel an odd peace in her presence over the past few days, he realized. One he subconsciously craved after such a difficult morning.

But he couldn’t do that, not after what happened yesterday. She would see it as a clear invitation to kiss him again, and that was simply unacceptable. He ignored the beast’s growling disagreement and turned away before she could see him. He would find his serenity elsewhere today and every day henceforth, until the torturous female was gone.

Though, when he reached the far side of the castle, he could not help but look down to the rocks. It was intended to be a passing glance, but what he saw stopped him in his tracks. For the first time since she’d arrived on the island, Angelica was not there.

Where the hell was she?
Why was she not upon her favorite perch? Had Silas forbidden her from revisiting the spot when he had gone to her?

Or perhaps she had taken ill? She had looked all right last night when she had been petting him so nicely, sharing her pastries with him, snuggling into his fur...

He slammed a wall down on that train of thought when he felt his body stirring. Of course she was fine. There was no reason to worry just because she had altered her daily routine. 

He remembered the sorrow he had felt radiating from her when they’d parted ways. Perhaps she decided to spend the day doing something other than sitting alone on a rock. Maybe she would finally take advantage of some of the activities available on the island. Derrick prided himself on the vast number of pleasurable indulgences he offered his guests.

Or...maybe she had decided to terminate her stay prematurely. He quickly dismissed the unpleasant thought. Silas would have told him. And Steffen handled the shuttling of guests from Wolfe Island back and forth to the mainland, and had made no such runs today. He’d been too busy with the Northerners.

The bottom line was, Derrick had no idea where Angelica was, and that bothered him. The fact that it bothered him compounded his irritation.

Despite his intent to stay as far away from her as possible, he couldn’t help looking for her wherever his business took him. He found perfectly reasonable grounds to ensure his business took him to all public — and a few private — areas of the resort. All the while, he was hoping to catch a quick glimpse, hear a hint of her voice, scent her delicate fragrance on the breeze.

It was necessary, he rationalized, to know where she was if he was to successfully avoid her.

When the entire day passed with no sign of her, the unease in his gut grew.

He could hardly wait for the sun to descend and the moon to rise. The second true darkness prevailed, he shifted into his wolf form and loped out toward the secluded section of beach where he had found her the night before. Yes, he was doing that which he said he would not, that which he knew to be a bad idea at the very best, but it was a compulsion so strong, he dared not ignore it, no matter what arguments his logical, rational brain had come up with.

The man wanted to see her, to ensure she was safe and well. This was his island, he reasoned, and he was responsible for everyone who came here. She was, after all, a paying guest.

The beast cared for none of that. It just wanted to be petted again.

Disappointment was a bitter taste on his tongue when he discovered Angelica was not beneath the palm either. A quick inspection of the area and the weakness of her scent told him she had not returned since the night before. He should have been relieved by that. It was what he had wanted. So why did his anxiety increase?

The weather did absolutely nothing to improve his now horrid mood. The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees since the setting of the sun and the gentle sea breeze was now gusting with increasing force. Thick cloud cover obscured all sources of celestial light; not a single star was visible. A storm was brewing, and his wolf senses warned him it would be a bad one.

Derrick paused. The skies had been threatening all day, giving fair warning of what was to come. The surf had been rough enough to suspend all water sports and all outside activities had been moved inside. The distant buzz in the back of his mind — communications among his pack — told him the staff was preparing for the storm — they had weathered countless tempests over the years and had it down to a fine art.

He should not be worrying. Angelica was probably safe and sound in her suite, curled up with a good book. Given the way she watched the skies and sea, she would have known early on that something big was coming and had been logical enough to seek her solitude elsewhere. Her suite, one of the smallest and least expensive, still had a decent enough view for her to satisfy whatever need she had to spend her days sea gazing.

Yet, he could not ignore the increasing sense of urgency he felt. He closed his eyes and mentally called for Silas, asking him to verify that Angelica was in her room. Less than a minute later, Silas reported back, informing him that her room was unoccupied. His uneasiness doubled.

Derrick made several trips around the island before he finally spotted her in a sudden flash of lightning. The irrational surge of relief he felt was quickly overcome by stark fear when he realized exactly where she was: on the rocky cliffs again, where the rising storm tide had already cut her off from the rest of the beach.

He howled a warning from the cover of the lush vegetation, but it was lost in the competing wail of the wind as it gusted from the ocean. The storm was upon them. His fur prickled with the growing electrical charge in the air all around him. He glanced frantically toward the rocks, now completely surrounded at the base by several inches of water with each increasingly powerful wave. One surge was all it would take to completely engulf the rock where she sat, unnaturally still.

Expectant.

Waiting.

He howled again, breaking into a blurring sprint when he saw the massive wave rising and heading toward her. Even with his preternatural speed, he knew he would not be fast enough to reach her in time. He howled in warning, again and again, knowing her human eyes could not see what his could in the darkness.

Lightning split the sky, blinding him momentarily, but not before her image became imprinted on his mind. She stood on the rocks, arms outstretched, as if in welcome. Thunder boomed all around him, shaking the ground, blending in with the deafening roar and crash of the surging storm waves.

The next bolt of lightning struck only moments after the first, illuminating the shoreline from end to end. His lids closed reflexively at the brilliant flash, but not before his mind captured the image he had dreaded most.

Angelica was no longer on the cliffs.