Mark of the Wolf (25 page)

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Authors: T. L. Shreffler

Tags: #romance, #love, #paranormal, #violence, #werewolf, #werewolves, #wolf, #virgin, #age difference, #erotica abusive relationships, #school age, #erotica adult passion, #porn reads, #lifemate, #rough hardcore, #erotica domination

BOOK: Mark of the Wolf
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When he turned back to the pack, he met
Isak's eyes and nodded. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “It had to be
done.”


We may be related by blood,” Isak
answered solemnly, “but her heart was lost to me long ago. Perhaps
this will teach her to respect the laws.”

Gareth nodded, relieved by his Beta's
support. Then he turned to the rest of the pack, which were now
waiting expectantly, either sitting on their haunches or relaxing
on the ground. “Alright,” he said. “So I think it's time to weed
out the competition. Isak, help me pick out which wolves were
Kane's group... we don't need any rivalry in this pack.”

Isak nodded and immediately started going
through the wolves – the ones he touched began to Change back to
their human form, looking small and frightened, whimpering
submissively. Gareth glanced at the horizon, seeing a dim ring of
light in the east. It would take another hour at least to dispel
all of the rival wolves from his pack, and then ensure that they
left his territory... Maddy would just have to wait. He would be
able to track her down easily, after all. He would never forget her
smell.

He turned back to the pack and focused on the
task at hand. The sooner he could finish with this, the sooner he
could find her.

 

* * * *

 

Maddy had found her way to the bus
station.

A middle-aged lady driving down the street
had offered her a ride, and she had accepted, asking what the
easiest way to Black River was. “Without a car, you'll need
Greyhound,” the woman had responded, and had taken her to the only
bus station in town. Maddy had found the twenty-dollar bill still
rolled up in her pocket, and had used it to buy herself a ticket to
Black River. Her hands still burned where Gareth had touched her
skin, and she had to clamp down on her body's response, telling
herself to forget the feeling of him inside of her. She was angry,
hurt, betrayed – and his sexual nature was not going to make her
forgive him, as it had every time before. She needed space to
think. She needed to be home and in familiar territory, where she
wasn't reliant on him.

The bus arrived twenty minutes later and she
climbed aboard, relieved to sit down in a warm seat. Soon Davenport
was rushing by her, the dirty buildings, the laundromats and liquor
stores. She didn't know what time it was, but the sun rose late at
this time of year, so she guessed it was a little after 6 a.m. The
city was slowly waking up, more and more cars flooding the streets,
the sidewalks becoming more crowded. Then the bus hit the highway
and traveled towards the mountains, and she relaxed, reassured when
she saw the “You are Leaving Davenport” sign by the side of the
freeway. Leaving Davenport, leaving Gareth. The thought brought a
sharp pain to her chest, but she didn't let herself cry. She had
been a fool to follow him out here, anyway. She hardly knew who he
was.

A man paused by her seat, looking down at
her, and it took Maddy a long moment to return the gaze. It was a
skinny fellow with matted brown hair and in need of a shave.


Going to Black River?” he asked. “Me
too. Been living there for years. Say, weren't you on the
news?”

She glared. “None of your business,” she
growled, thinking she sounded more like a wolf than she had
intended. She wondered if it had to do with the new senses she had
gained from Gareth.


Jeez, fine.” The man put up his hands
defensively and continued past to his seat. “Bitch,” he muttered a
second later, though she knew she wouldn't have heard him if it
hadn't been for her increased hearing.

She settled back against the window and
closed her eyes, intending to sleep. Her body was exhausted from
the turbulent emotions and Gareth's unorthodox claiming. She
clutched the leftover coins in her pocket as she drifted off to
sleep, her eyes closing automatically, her mind shutting down. Her
last thoughts were of him, whether or not he'd follow her now that
he had his pack. She wondered if he would choose Yvonne over her —
at least the she-wolf had stayed by his side. She didn't know
enough about him to guess what he might do.

She drifted off into unsettled dreams.

 

* * * *

 

He found his keys by the wall.

Searching for them had wasted another
precious thirty minutes or so. He had decided to take hs car since
he could smell her with the window open, despite the overlaying
exhaust and fumes. She was his lifemate after all – he could
probably smell her underwater if he had to.


Shall I go with you?” Isak offered,
hovering next to the car as he started the engine.


No, you need to stay here with the
pack, get them settled in while I move everything from Black
River... I'll contact you when I find her.” He backed the car up
and then headed for the road, giving a slight wave from his window.
Then he started driving, following her scent as it led him randomly
through the streets. Guilt tore at him as he followed her path – it
was like stalking a wounded, terrified animal. Just by her route,
he could tell that she was exhausted and worn down. He needed to be
with her, to ensure that she was safe. Werewolves aside, there were
plenty of other dangers for a young girl in a rundown place like
this.

Then he reached a point where her scent
dimmed to almost nothing, and he knew that she had gotten into a
car. So he picked out the car's scent and followed that instead,
fear and anger rising inside of him – if she had been abducted or
worse, he would kill the bastard that laid a hand on her....

But after a few turns and merging onto a main
street, he recognized the route. His blood grew cold. She hadn't
actually... he hadn't thought she would....

He arrived at the bus station. It was
semi-crowded with the early-morning rush, and he parked illegally
along the curb, jumping out and dashing to the ticket-seller. He
shoved his way in front of the line until he reached the window of
the booth; it was ran by a small old man, who looked up at him with
cautious eyes. Robberies probably weren't uncommon in this part of
town.


Did you see a girl here about two
hours ago, a young thing, red hair and blue eyes? She was probably
wearing a leather jacket.”

The man frowned for a moment, then his eyes
narrowed suspiciously. “Can't say I remember... how do you know
this girl, sir?”

Gareth knew the man remembered her – he could
smell it on him. He hesitated before saying, “I'm her husband.”
That was the human term, wasn't? Boyfriend just didn't go far
enough.

The man's face lit up slightly. “Ah, alright.
Walked out on you, did she? Seen it a thousand times. You're not
alone.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully and rummaged through the
receipts on his desk. “Yes, she left earlier this morning. Took a
ticket to Black River, I do recall.”

Gareth nodded and headed back for the Camaro.
So she had fled to Black River.... She had an hour on him at least,
and no matter how fast he sped, he wouldn't overtake her. He might
as well slow down for a moment, think of where she would go once
she was back in town. She was running from him, so he doubted she
would be at his house. She wouldn't go to school in the emotional
state she was in – she ditched enough as it was. Which only left
one alternative.

And her stepfather might be home this
time.

The memory of the scars on her back was clear
in his mind, and Gareth climbed into the car, starting the engine
and roaring down the street, on his way to the freeway. He had to
reach her before she got to her stepfather, because he knew how the
minds of men worked, especially the minds of cruel sons-of-bitches.
She would go there because she had nowhere else to turn to, and if
that man laid one finger on her....

He couldn't think straight anymore. Slamming
on the gas, he merged onto the freeway, heading for the fast lane.
His eyes scanned the horizon for buses – there were none. Dammit,
he had to go faster!

The sun was already creeping over the
mountain, blazing with dawn's glory. He would make it in time. He
had to.

 

 

Chapter 15

 

Maddy arrived in Black River around 10am. She
was hungry and still exhausted, but all she could think about was
getting home. She thought about the possibility of rotting wolf
carcasses in her cabin, but she figured that the police had
probably found them by now. She just wanted to go home, curl up on
what was left of her couch, and go to sleep. She just wanted life
to go back to the way it used to be.

The streets were fairly empty at this hour.
Most people were either at work or school, so she didn't run into
anyone she knew. After twenty minutes of walking she reached the
outskirts of town, then started up the road that would sooner or
later lead to her driveway. She couldn't stop herself from thinking
about Gareth, wondering what he was doing now, if he was coming
after her at all or happily holed up with Yvonne. She hadn't fit in
very well over there, anyway. She was too soft, too inexperienced —
all too human to play their games. Maybe she would see him again
someday, though she doubted he would be stay in Black River much
longer. He had his pack to return to. The wolf senses were still
thrumming inside of her, though less extreme now than they had
been. She could hear every rustle in the forest, recognize mouse
tracks through the grass, the scent of a female deer twenty paces
off the road. A cold wind blew and she pulled his leather jacket
closer around her. She was glad she had kept it. It was a piece of
him, the last piece she would ever have of him.

Best to get over him quickly and just let go,
she told herself.
She had dealt with disappointment before – maybe this was the
biggest let-down of her life, but she knew she could handle it. Day
by day, she would survive. It was the only thing she could
do.

Finally she reached her driveway and started
toward her house. Five minutes later she was standing in front of
her cabin; the door was back on its hinges and the safety tape had
been removed. There was a plastic bag covering the broken window.
She paused, her ears twitching as she listened intently to the
surrounding forest. She didn't sense anyone in the cabin, and there
didn't seem to be anyone else around. Her eyes searched the
driveway, but there was no truck peeking out from behind the house.
Wherever he was, her stepfather wasn't home.

She let herself into the house with a sigh of
relief. The door was locked and she had to use her key – she was
surprised to find that it was still in the pocket of her jeans,
long forgotten. She opened the door and the smell of sanitizer hit
her nostrils. When she entered the front room, she found that it
was still in a mess, though at least the blood had been cleaned up
from the floor and there were no bodies to be found. She figured
the cops had cleaned up a bit before leaving, thus the chemical
smell in the air.

She walked through the small house first,
making sure it was empty, then she stripped Gareth's jacket off and
flung it on the couch. After that she collected some fresh clothes
and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower. She stripped off
her jeans and relaxed under the hot water. The tension slowly
flowed from her muscles and she ceased to think – she imagined the
water washing away the past few days, cleansing her from the panic
and desperation.

When she was done soaping down and washing
her hair, she stepped out of the shower and dressed herself,
toweling off her hair gently. She left the bathroom with a sigh,
walking across the wooden floor to the main room. She would check
to see if the electricity had been turned on again, and if not, she
would have to head down to the main building to pay the bills. She
would have to use her meager savings to cover it; she was not
staying in this cabin at night when the lights wouldn't turn
on.

She heard a sound from the kitchen and
immediately froze. Her head shot up.

Her stepfather stood in front of the fridge,
his eyes wide and blurry, a glass of amber liquid in one hand and a
cigar in the other. He seldom smoked cigars – only when he had
money. But where had the money come from?

She hadn't heard him come in. His hair was
frizzy and short, with a prominent bald spot on top. It puffed out
at the sides of his head like a demented clown. His eyes were small
and mean, hidden in a face full of premature wrinkles and a bulbous
nose. When he spoke, the alcohol on his breath hit her from across
the room. With her heightened wolf senses, it made her want to
puke.


There you are,” he slurred, taking
another drink. “I was so worried about my baby girl... those men
attacked you, did they?”

Yeah, and you sold me out,
she thought, though she didn't say it out
loud. She didn't want to provoke his anger; for all that she had
changed while with Gareth, here at home she was still a terrified
eleven-year-old, wondering what she had done wrong.


I've been staying at a friend's,” she
said, wondering if he had noticed her absence. She didn't know when
he had gotten back, but she hadn't been gone for very
long.


Huh,” he grunted, and came around the
counter, entering the living room. She resisted the urge to back
away. He set his glass down and took a step towards her, his arms
spread wide. It took her a long moment to realize what he was
doing, and then she just stood there, stunned. “How about giving
your old man a hug, eh? I was worried about my little
girl.”

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