Her Wanted Wolf (9 page)

The masculine musky fragrance he’d exuded brought a dull heavy ache to
her pelvis. The sensitized, nerve-rich tissues between her thighs throbbed with
a sweet, persistent ache. Sabine slid her hand up and cupped her breast. She
pinched her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, hard. The self-inflicted
pain sent her body into a series of jerky shudders.

The scent of Lunedare clung to her senses to her as a cocklebur to fur.
She couldn’t shake it off. She wanted him. A female were always sought out the
strongest male in the pack. The aroma of his virility would arouse the other
she-wolves.

She grinned ruefully.

There might be a riot among her fertile pack sisters who didn’t take
their pleasure in each other’s arms. She wondered how many would succumb to the
lure of the joys a man offered.

Sabine scoffed at his appearance. She could hardly tell him that her
fingers itched to push back the dense, sun-streaked, dark brown hair from his
wide brow. She would never admit that his mouth, highlighted by the growth of
hair surrounding it, mesmerized her as he spoke and that his full bottom lip
beckoned her to take a taste at her leisure.

His long, sinewy muscles, stretched taut over a long-boned frame, were so
blatantly masculine in comparison to her feminine curves she hadn’t been able
to stop looking at him. His manhood hung low and enticed her, stirring images
of couplings, which brought a flush to her skin.

It wasn’t every day she got a chance to study a penis of those
dimensions. Even at rest, it held little resemblance to the genitals of the
campers bathing in the streams, who she and her sisters spied on. It was larger
and heavier then the anatomy diagrams she’d studied too. Sabine gulped and a
shiver of anticipation skittered down her belly to settle in her core.

The image of their first coupling gave birth to acts she’d never dreamt
of before, to needs she didn’t know how to address.

Yes, she’d do as her father demanded of her. However, she wouldn’t allow
Lunedare to put his mate’s mark upon her. She did not intend to bind herself
permanently to a man whose emotions were bound to another woman. She had to
rebuild the Silverwolf pack, but she also needed her freedom to find love,
commitment and happiness for herself. She wouldn’t play second fiddle to a
first mate’s ghost for a lifetime.

Rising, she took one last look at her cave before leaving it. One day, if
she were lucky, she’d come back with her cubs. It would be like a pilgrimage to
show them her roots. Sabine frowned. She would return, that is, if Lunedare
would allow her to take her offspring. Her shoulders slumped, feeling the
pressure of another problem. He probably wouldn’t, so she had to find a way to
make him see the importance of making sure her bloodline didn’t die out.

Inhaling the sweet night air, she turned to trot down the hill to do a
quick check of the perimeter before she headed for her bed. Sabine wasn’t surprised
when her sisters separated themselves from the shadows to fall in step on
either side of her.

“Did he get a message out?” Sabine asked Ishbel, hopefully. It would be
something to tell her father before she retired.

“Yes, and by the alpha’s words, he’s called in an army. Lots of virile
weres in our camp. Think about it, Sabine.” Ishbel’s white grin flashed in the
dark, swinging the small cloth bag in her hand by its drawstring.

“Will you take a mate, Ishbel?” Ala’s question drew a heavy sigh from Sabine.

More strangers to clutter up the place
, she mentally grumbled to
herself.

“Take a mate?” Ishbel laughed. “Heavens, no. I’m going to have some fun,
a lot of fun. I want to see a real city. Paris! I’m going to see the city of
lights and not just study it in a dusty old book. I’m going to take in all its
scents and taste the flavors. Wine, food, and men. I intend to gorge myself.”

“Careful you don’t give yourself a bad case of indigestion,” Sabine
teased. She winced when her sister punched her in the upper arm.

Ishbel chafed the most under the restrictions their father put on his
pack. Sabine suspected she’d taken a human lover or two. The faint smell of the
men lingered on Ishbel’s skin whenever she returned from her rare forays into
the nearby towns. She shot her sister a worried glance. Would she fall prey to
the vices men craved?

Ishbel eyes met Sabine’s concerned gaze. “I won’t go if you don’t want me
to.”

Sabine shook her head. “No, go. We’ve all put aside our dreams out of
respect for Father and loyalty to the pack. I want you to go and enjoy your
travels to the fullest. I know you’ve been raring to go. You’ll come back when
you’ve had your fill.” To put an end to her sister’s hesitancy, Sabine wiggled
her brows suggestively. “Maybe you’ll find a French wolf to suit you, and your
wanderlust will fade.”

Ishbel smirked. “He might want to go wandering with me. What about you,
Ala? Going to take a male were as a lover?”

“Not likely. I’m happy with Tija. We want children, though. Maybe we’ll
find a beta who’ll be willing to help us make a family.” Ala turned to Sabine.
“What do you want for yourself when we get there, Sabi? Nothing sensible, now.
You have to wish for something frivolous.” Ala almost skipped to keep up with
her lankier sisters.

Sabine thought for a moment. She’d have to come up with some bit of
nonsense to make Ala smile. “Uhmmmmm, I want to feel silk on my skin, and some
of those shoes. The ones with those improbable heels, red and flashy. And
candy, lots of candy.” Sabine’s outrageous wish elicited chuckles from her
sisters.

“You’d never be able to walk in them,” Ishbel hooted, and tottered ahead
of them on the tips of her toes, listing from side to side.

They laughed at her foolishness. “True, but I’ll have fun trying.”

“Speaking of having a little fun, we can have some right now.” Ishbel
tried to sound nonchalant, but the smirk on her face caught Sabine’s attention.

“What are you talking about?” Through experience, Sabine knew her sister
had a bit of mischief up her sleeve.

“The Lunedare alpha has gone to take a bath. He’s asked for something to
shave with and soap. I pointed the way to the hot spring. I think since we live
by the old ways you should go assist him with his ablutions.”

“That custom died out in the middle ages,” Sabine mumbled darkly.

“He wanted something to cut his hair. I put Tija’s father’s old straight
razor, Mama’s shears, and some of that sage-infused soap we made in this. Take
it to him.” Ishbel tossed Sabine the sack she had dangling from her fingertips.

Sabine caught the bag, but thrust it out to Ishbel, who stepped back out
of arm’s reach.

“We can help you if you’d like. There’s a lot of him to wash, isn’t
there? I’d like to look him over now that he’s cleaned up a bit. He stirs the
blood, doesn’t he? He hasn’t spared any of us a glance, though, which is a
pity.” Ishbel let an exaggerated sigh of regret. “I think he’s sniffing at you.
Are you going to take a bite out of him Sabi, or better yet, let Drew take a
bite out of you?”

“Who’s Drew?” Sabine looked at them. Had she missed something or someone?

“The man you’re going to take to mate. His name is Drew Lunedare. Were
you going to call your mate by his clan name in the most intimate of moments?”
Ishbel’s teasing laughter tinkled in the air.

“Ishbel, wherever did you hear such talk?” Ala admonished before a giggle
slipped through the lips she clamped between her teeth.

“It’s how the women campers sound when they are in the throes of mating.
Don’t tell me you haven’t heard them a time or two,” Ishbel retorted, looking
pointedly at Sabine. “Or watched them. Human men tire quickly, and the act is
over far too soon. I wonder if a were will have more stamina. Drew looks like
he’d go on forever. He’s very well endowed, and the muscles in his thighs and
back are well developed. No chance of him failing to please you.”

Sabine had heard and seen enough over the years. Sound traveled over long
distances through the forest. Sometimes the fervent groans and pleas shared
between lovers reached them. She’d watched, too, bodies entwined in gentle
coupling or fervent unrestrained matings, making her aroused and a little bit
envious.

“It’s too dark. We won’t be able to see anything.” An unwarranted
possessiveness washed over Sabine. For some reason she didn’t want Ishbel to
scrutinize Drew’s attributes. Ishbel’s wicked descriptions would have them in
stitches, but she didn’t want that. Even
he
needed a little protection.

“We are werekin, sister dear. We’re blessed with excellent night vision,
and besides, there’s a full moon.” Ishbel grinned at her. “Or don’t you want to
share?”

It took an awful lot for Sabine not to squirm under the perceptive stares
her sisters fixed on her. “It’d be rude to spy on him.”

“Rude?” Ishbel nudged Ala in her side with her elbow. “Ala, our sister,
who only trots out her dusty unused manners when it suits her, thinks it’s
discourteous. Hmmm, this bears investigating, but just so you know…I’m not the
only one who’s shown an interest in taking a good long look at him.” Ishbel
dropped this little bit of information deliberately, her eyes on Sabine’s face.

A frown wrinkled Sabine’s brow. She didn’t like where this was heading.
“What do you mean?”

“Sabine, Sabine. A virile were has entered our compound. Don’t you think
every woman here with a pulse is going to take a good look at what he has to
offer? Some are dying to experience what it’s like to be with a man. The others
who know what it is like are ripe and ready to refresh their memories.” Ishbel
tut-tutted and shook her head. “He’s fair game until he declares which one of
us he’s taking as his mate. Maybe he’ll accept what is offered. That is, if you
don’t get to him first. You could find out if he’s worth snuggling in the furs
with before you take him to mate.”

Sabine clamped her lips shut, or she might spew out a string of curses in
the several languages she’d learned from her father. She had no right to demand
his fidelity. Pride wouldn’t allow her to march over the rise, assume the role
of a mother hen, and shoo the women back to their shacks.

Didn’t they have enough to do? They had to begin breaking down the camp.
It would take a lot of work to make the area look undisturbed.

She looked up at the moon. By its position, dawn was several hours away.
She hoped with everything in her that, if Drew decided to take his pleasure
with a pack sister, she’d be able to shut out their moans of pleasure and
stifle the odd ache in the center of her chest.

“Ishbel, you’ll come with us in the morning when I take Lunedare to spy
on the den. Ala, keep an eye on Balthazar while we’re away, and make sure our
belongings are buried throughout the woods. I’m going deliver this to Lunedare
and after that seek my bed…alone,” she said with emphasis, which elicited a
chuckle from Ishbel. Sabine ran up the hill to the stream-fed basin they used to
bathe. She didn’t see any of her pack sisters, but she sensed them blended into
the shadows.

Drew was facing away from her when Sabine reached the pool. The waterline
rippled just above the curve of his buttocks. Moisture clung to the long line
of his back, and Sabine imagined licking the droplets off his skin.

He turned suddenly, and their eyes met. Drew continued to clean his teeth
with a green twig. Dribbles of water weighed down the dusting of hair on his
body, creating a vee aiming at his crotch. Unable to help herself, she allowed
her eyes to follow the line downward. His cock, surrounded by a thick tuft of
pubic hair, bobbed in the pool. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. She
fought hard to mask her sexual arousal.

She dragged her gaze up to meet his. The gleam she saw reflected in them
gave her ample confirmation he knew what she was thinking, and heat washed over
her body.

“I’ve brought you soap, a razor, and a pair of scissors,” she all but
stuttered.

“I could use a hand. I don’t have a mirror.” He started to wade forward,
but she held up her hand.

“Ahh…no I’ll come in. We’ll need the water to create a lather to shave
you.” She could wring her sister’s neck. Damn Ishbel.

Sabine didn’t want the other she-wolves taking stock of him. It was bad
enough she smelled the heat of their interest. She cut through the water and,
in a businesslike manner, Sabine handed him the soap and razor.

Taking the small Victorian embroidery shears, which had belonged to her
Mother, she snipped his unkempt beard. She kept her eyes fixed on the lower
half of his face. His hair was thick and the scissors unsuitable for the task. It
seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to cut it low enough for the razor
to do its work.

The ambient heat coming off him warmed her skin, and her nipples
tightened.

Drew soaped his face, passed her the razor, and took the shears from her.

Sabine hesitated, with the blade gripped in her hand.

“Done this before? I’d hate for your hand to slip and slice open
something vital.” The laughter in his voice was a dare if she ever heard one.

She flicked open the straight razor and tilted his head back. “I have,
but don’t tempt me by putting ideas in my head. I get enough of that from Ishbel.”

“Really? What kind of ideas?”

“Never mind.” She swiped the blade through the suds and hair on his
cheek, continuing until he was clean-shaven.

Drew washed off the remnants of the soap and started to soap his body. He
looked different. The brown in his hair had a hint of gold, his jaw line firm
and determined.

Sabine took a step back and slipped on a mossy stone. Drew caught her by
the hips to steady her.

“We’re losing our audience,” he murmured and stepped back from her. He
washed his hair, submerged himself, and then popped up. “If you’re not staying
the night, now might be a good time to go.”