Logan's Acadian Wolves (32 page)

The rain had subsided, and they quickly made their way up the walkway towards the entrance. Logan flipped open a security pad and typed in a code. The lock clicked open and he turned the handle. As they entered, she followed Logan’s lead and kicked off her sodden shoes, thankful she’d gone without stockings. In a few minutes, her feet would dry nicely and the smooth hardwood floor felt soothing to her sore toes.

“Adèle,” Logan called.

Wynter looked around the foyer that led into a spacious great room. A modern rectangular shaped gas lit fire blazed atop its round white stones. The black pit, outlined in stainless steel, stood out against the cream-colored Kasota stone hearth. Three tall vases filled with ornamental grass sat atop a thin dark wooden mantel.

A soft purring creature rubbed against her legs, startling Wynter. She knelt down, petting the sweet cat who meowed and pressed its head into her hands.

“Well, hello, kitty,” she said softly, touching its ears.

“I see you’ve met Mojo,” Logan acknowledged.

“Hmm? You have a cat?” Wynter replied in surprise, trying to hide her amusement.

“Here kitty, kitty. Come to Daddy,” Logan sang in his best baby voice. The small black ball of fur ran toward him, purring voraciously, and he scooped the kitten into his arms, placing kisses on her head. He continued to talk in a soft voice, pretending to talk to the cat while really answering Wynter. “Yes, I have a kitty. And she’s such a good girl, aren’t you? Who’s a good kitty?”

“Mojo,” she repeated, smiling.

Wynter watched in amazement as the Alpha tenderly caressed the sweet little creature. Of all things she thought might happen tonight, this certainly was not one of them. As this terrifyingly attractive side of Logan was revealed to her, she fought the urge to run up and kiss him. The wanting, the temptation was so great; she forced herself into the floor, remaining rooted in place.

“She’s not very much into Voodoo, but she’s lucky,” he explained, petting her and rubbing his face into her soft fur. He caught Wynter examining him as if he had four heads. “What?”

“I’m just…I don’t know, surprised. I love cats, but a wolf with a cat? Seems counterintuitive.”
And sexy.

“Yeah, that’s what Tristan thought too. His mate runs an animal shelter. One day, I spent quite a bit of time in her cat room. And what can I say?” He shrugged, fixing her with his eyes as if he was talking about her and not the cat. “I fell in love. You know, sometimes, Dr. Ryan, we can’t control who we fall in love with. Sometimes even when things don’t make sense, they actually make the most sense in the world.”

Wynter blushed and looked away. Oh God, she wanted to touch him so badly. Heat filled her body. Desire pulsed through her veins. She tried to think of anything but sex. What was wrong with her? Just as she’d mustered enough bravery to respond coherently, a portly woman with a gray bun wandered into the foyer. Logan let the cat jump to the floor, approached and gave her a hug.

“Ah, Adèle. Meet Wynter. Wyn, this is Adèle. She’s kept me in one piece since I’ve moved home.”

“Nice to meet you.” Wynter noticed how at ease Logan was with his housekeeper.

“Wynter va rester avec moi,” he told the woman. Adèle ran her eyes over Wynter before conceding that she was welcome.

“Oui, oui. Bonjour, Wynter,” Adèle greeted. She briskly turned on her heels, speaking rapidly in French. She waved an arm, gesturing for them to follow. “Allons, le dîner est prêt.”

“Merci, I’m starving,” Logan picked up a piece of fluffy white bread out of a bowl and quickly stuffed it into his mouth before she had a chance to protest. “Merci beaucoup pour obtenir la maison prête. Everything looks great.”

Adèle pointed to the large glass dining table, and promptly set out another place setting for his guest. Logan sat at the head of the table and gestured for Wynter to sit at his side. Wynter, famished, obeyed, not sure what she should do next. The enticing aroma of a basket of warmed New Orleans-style French bread teased at her nose. Adèle set out two large bowls of what Wynter thought was gumbo, and plates of salad.

“Salade. Gumbo. Pain,” Adèle ticked off her creations and then took off her apron. “See you tomorrow, no?”

“Oui, and thanks again, Adèle. The place is really coming together,” Logan noted.

She smiled and nodded, but appeared to be in a hurry to leave. “Oui, Monsieur. Soyez le bienvenu.” With a wave, she took off toward the back of the home. A door shutting let them know they were alone.

Following Logan’s lead, Wynter dug into the delightful gooey mixture with her spoon. They ate in silence. She noticed that like the great room, the kitchen was sparsely decorated. Dark cherry cabinets and hardwood floors were offset by the white granite countertops. The only item on the counter alongside the wall was a coffeemaker. No dishes or glasses sat atop the oversized rectangular island. In fact, there wasn’t much décor at all. No pictures on the walls. Not even a clock. Taking a deep breath, she could smell the new drywall and paint and wondered how long Logan had lived here.

As if he read her thoughts, he was the first to speak. “I just built it,” he commented without explanation.

“It’s beautiful,” she replied.

“It’s empty,” he countered. “But someday soon, it’ll be more of a home than a house.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“I haven’t.”

“Hmm?”

“This is the first meal I’ve eaten here…with you,” he stated, meeting her eyes. Had she no idea how important she was to him? How important she had yet to become? It was killing him. The silence. The lack of understanding. And most of all the lack of intimacy. Intimacy which had shattered into a million bits when she left him to go with Jax. It was time to talk, to not just mend their relationship, but set it on a course that would solidify their future.

Wynter stilled at the realization that he’d brought her here, to his home. He’d told her that he’d lived in Marcel’s home, but this was a new beginning. It had been something special he’d built on his own and now shared with her. Her chest tightened, and she struggled to come up with the right words.

“Logan, I…I’m sorry,” she began. “Today…it’s just that everything has moved so quickly. And not just this…this thing between us. It’s everything.”

“This thing,” he said tersely. “This thing is not a thing. It’s a bond, Wynter. I’ve marked you. We’re mates. It’s not simply a choice we make. It either is or it isn’t.”

“Yes, but I…” she placed her spoon on the table and wiped her mouth.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through over the past two months?” Logan asked rhetorically, well aware she couldn’t possibly comprehend the struggle he’d endured. The low calm of his voice was edged in a controlled indignation. “My friend, Marcel. We grew up together, spent a lifetime as friends. He was Tristan’s brother, but they both are my family in every sense of the word. Two months ago, I sat with his blood on my hands. I watched as the life drained from his eyes.”

Logan coughed, sucking back his emotions. Enough tears had been shed. “And minutes before that, do you know what I did, Wyn?”

She quietly shook her head.

“I killed a man…with my own hands. Not as wolf. As a man. That death is on my hands.” He held his palms upward, staring at them as if they were dripping in blood.

“That night, I vowed to Marcel that I’d lead his pack, to take care of his wolves. Marcel begged me…I didn’t want this, to be Alpha. My role as beta was comfortable, respected. I loved Tristan. It isn’t something I did lightly,” he reflected, placing his palms down on the table. “But it is done. For the last two months, I’ve fought challenges. Bloody, ripped up fur and bruises, week after week.”

“Logan,” Wynter gasped quietly.
What had he been through?

“I may’ve vowed to be Alpha. But I also earned it. I paid in blood. I paid in sleepless nights. And only this week as I completed my last challenge, I threatened the next wolf who challenges me with death. Do you know what that means, Wyn?”

Wynter could guess but dared not speak it aloud. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Logan about how Fiona’s father had died…in a challenge.

“The next wolf who challenges me is dead,” he stated emotionlessly. “I cannot tolerate any more instability. For the sake of the pack, the acceptance of my reign must continue. Every time there is a challenge, the pack becomes unsettled. Volatile. It isn’t good for them. Or me.”

“I’m sorry. Logan, I didn’t understand. I don’t know what that has to do with us, though.”

“It has everything to do with you. Me. Us. Our mating. Today, when you left,” he growled, shaking his head in disapproval. “I was so angry. Angry you’d left me to go with Jax. He’s unmated. And whoever else you were with was too.”

“But how did you know? I didn’t…”

“I could smell them on you when you got home. Goddess, Wyn.”

“So because you marked me and you’ve decided we’re mates, I can’t even go with my family? Are you kidding me?”

“It isn’t just that, Wyn. Aside from the fact that you are very much in danger, I had specifically asked you to stay. Granted, I didn’t order you as your Alpha. But I came damn close. And you…how could you not see that I needed you to stay so we could talk? I get that you’re not wolf, but any she-wolf would have never left her mate…not until she’d claimed him for her own. Not only did you disrespect me by telling me no and going off with Jax, it was as if your wolf rejected mine by leaving.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve got to understand that I’m…”

“Human,” he finished her words. “Yes, yes you are. But not for long, Wyn. The full moon beckons and even if you choose to deny our mating, you’ll have to learn to live within your nature.”

Frustrated, Logan loosened his tie, took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He stood at the head of the table; his fingers grasped the back of the chair. The animal in him wanted to throw the damn thing, smash it into kindling. But it was not all who he was. He closed his eyes, willing his wolf to calm.

He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I can’t do this. Either you need to accept your wolf or I…I don’t know. I just know that I’ve worked too damn hard to become Alpha. Wolves depend on me. And it isn’t just the fact that when I get angry or hurt, the pack feels it. If anyone besides Dimitri had seen what you did today, disrespecting me, blatantly denying my request to stay…it’ll lead to a challenge. I can’t have that happen. Not over us, anyway.”

“But I’d never do that on purpose. It’s not like I set out to hurt you or the pack today.” She ran her fingers through her hair, nervously twisting at it. “God, Logan can’t you see what this is doing to me?”

“The bottom line is this. If there’s another challenge, I will kill someone. And while I won’t hesitate to do it, that wolf is someone’s brother, husband, son,” he said softly, contemplating what it’d be like to kill again.

Wynter stood and crossed the kitchen, resting her hands onto the countertop. “Please just hear me out. No matter how hard I try, I don’t know what it’s like. I’m not a wolf.” She rubbed her hand over her reddening eyes. “I don’t want to cause anyone’s death. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m so afraid and confused. But there is one thing I know…I want you…like I’ve never wanted anyone.”

Logan approached Wynter, placing his hand on either side of her waist, gripping the cold stone. “And I want you too, sweetheart. But we cannot go on like this. I’m damn sorry someone did this to you, changed you to wolf. You’ve barely had time to recover from your captivity, let alone adjust to your new…situation. But I can’t put my pack in danger. Lots of lives depend on me. I cannot fail them. I get that it is not fair, but you need to decide.”

“Decide what, Logan?” She clasped onto the sides of his shirt in desperation. “I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t want to hurt anyone but I don’t know how to be wolf. I don’t know the rules. I can’t do this. I don’t know how. I’m sorry, I can’t…”

Wynter fell to her knees crying, still clawing at his clothing. She’d let her head fall against his shins. Logan wrapped his hands around her arms and brought her up into his embrace, supporting her.

“Wynter, this is not who you are, sweetheart. You can do this. You are strong, not broken. You will learn how to submit within the pack while remaining fiercely independent. You will run as wolf, but maintain your humanity. I promise you to help you shift; support you in everything you do for the rest of your life. But this decision must be yours, not mine.” Logan held her tightly. His own tears brimmed; he needed his mate. Please Goddess, do not let her give up.

Struggling to catch her breath, Wynter swore Logan was doing something to calm her. His scent, his touch, his aura, everything that was of his essence protectively encased her body and heart. Her wolf howled, begging her to run free with her mate. On the verge of collapse, Wynter steeled her resolve. A fighter. Yes, that’s who she was. Tonight, however, she was a lover, Logan’s mate. Trembling in his arms, she raised her chin to meet his eyes.

“I choose you. Us. This makes no sense to the part of my mind that demands data, evidence and all the other things that I’ve learned in my years as a scientist,” she breathed, placing her hand to his heart. “But my heart. My wolf. I need you.”

Logan sighed in relief, pressing a kiss to her head. “You sure, baby? Because I’m ready to start this right now…to teach you what it means to be wolf.”

“I’m sure.” All her senses on alert, she’d fully committed to doing whatever it took to learn how to be wolf, to be Logan’s mate.

Logan leaned in and gently kissed her. His wolf celebrated in anticipation of their union. He tenderly sucked at her lips, licking at her until she opened fully to him. Her sweet taste tempted him, beckoning the urge to make love to her right then. But he knew better of it. He’d patiently demonstrate what it meant for her to submit, to be nothing more than the wild animal that lurked beneath the surface of her skin.

Wynter gave in to his will, tasting, indulging in the warmth of her Alpha. She felt his hands leave her sides, and she pressed up further against the counter’s edge. As he ground the hard evidence of his arousal against her belly, she registered his fingertips on her skin. She went to help him, and he grabbed her wrists.