Reach for the Sky (Wolffe Peak Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Reach for the Sky (Wolffe Peak Book 1)
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Chapter 2

He was watching her again.

Sky knew the moment his gaze settled on her; she felt a menacing chill lift the hairs on the back of her neck. And no, the chill had nothing to do with the autumn wind that had picked up as she’d vacated the cab. It was
him
.

At first, everything had felt fine, but after a few minutes, her inner wolf had pricked up her ears, her stance deadly alert. As an innate hunter, she recognized when she became prey.

The moment her plane had touched down, she’d phoned Shane—exactly as the sheriff had insisted—but he’d asked her to wait until he could send a patrol car for her. That idea hadn’t sat well with her. She wanted her home, her bed, and her bathtub. A long, hot soak was exactly what she needed. So, when the cabbie flicked off his light, she’d hopped in.

She shouldn’t have left the cab, not when she knew there was a madman after her, but all she’d wanted was to return home after a particularly exhausting week away. It wasn’t the cabbie’s fault he’d driven over glass, or that the tire had popped. These things happened. And even with a stalker on the loose, she should have been safe for the twenty minutes it would have taken her to walk home. Except, like everything else in her life, even this simple task had gone awry.

She drew in a deep breath, but the blustery wind whisked up a plethora of scents that overwhelmed her nose. Thankfully, she could still hear, and there in the distance were footsteps wading through the dead leaves. The crunch of his steps echoed her own, as they had for the past six blocks. Though her heart raced forward, she managed to maintain an even pace.
Keep calm
, as the mantra said. Could be a friendly pedestrian out for a nighttime walk…down the same paths that she was headed, without any deviation.
Right
.

A gust of air swirled around her, and riding the current was the recognizable stench of fur and forest. The same scent that had haunted her for the past year. It seemed no matter where she went, there
he
was. Always in the distance, taunting her.

In the beginning, she’d refused to admit that she was being stalked. She’d thrown away the first letters and silenced the calls in an attempt to assure herself that they were pranks. Even after she’d finally sought out the cops, it’d taken Shane weeks to convince her that there was someone out there who was obsessed with her.

Sky stiffened as a shiver rippled down her spine. She still felt his eyes on her, heard his careful steps as he breached the distance between them. Once upon a time, she hadn’t feared other werewolves—hell, her job was to
advocate
for them—but life had a way of kicking someone down. It made campaigning for her own kind difficult when one of them had turned her into prey.

Shaking off the terror, she scoped her surroundings, dismayed to find the moonlit streets abandoned. Two blocks north, a large van sat on the curb. It would only provide her a couple seconds of a lead, but that was all she needed.

She counted her breaths as she went, careful to keep them steady. The moment she slipped behind the van, she bolted. For a brief moment, she thought he hadn’t followed, but the sound of his quick footfalls assured her otherwise. Sky kept her eyes forward as she measured her follower’s pace, hopeful the distance between them would grow.

It didn’t.

Her heart fluttered with panic. His steps grew louder, his breaths uneven as he closed the distance between them. A whimper slipped from her lips as she skidded around the next corner, fingers digging into the brick wall for purchase.

Fear had led her in the wrong direction. Eyes wide, she cursed at the sight of the large park ahead of her. Hardly the best place to escape someone. She feared her only option was to shift. Humans knew of werewolves, but it wasn’t recommended to take wolf form in the middle of the street—public indecency and all that. Not to mention that most humans felt they had the right to hunt any beasts that crossed onto their property, and Sky loathed the idea of her skin hung on a hunter’s wall.

But what other option did she have?

By her estimation, her pursuer had closed half the distance. She listened to the sound of his strained breaths, yet his pace never wavered.

For the first time, she braved glancing back.

A monstrous shadow rushed after her. Even with her heightened sense of sight, she saw nothing beyond his height and build. She contemplated shifting in the middle of the street, but the time it would take to change would cost her everything.

So she did the only other thing she could think of. “Help!”

His stride faltered and a slight hitch carried to her ears.

Sky repeated her plea while dashing toward the park. “Somebody, help!”

Not that there was anyone around to assist, but her outburst had gained her a few spare moments. While her pursuer stumbled over his steps and debated whether or not to continue the chase, she shucked her clothing and let her frightened wolf take over. Fear hastened her shift. Fur sprouted from her skin as her bones cracked and reshaped.

Nails skittering against the pavement, she kicked off the last leg of her jeans and raced forward once more. Another curse zinged through the air as her pursuer realized what she’d done.

The distance between them grew with every stride until she could no longer hear him. Still, she continued to bark for help. If the humans refused to answer, perhaps someone of her kind would. She tore through the secluded woods, zipping around trees and ruffling piles of leaves, all while howling at the top of her lungs.

A final glance back revealed her success. The only shadows were those of the park. Heart in her throat, she turned, her chest heaving as she struggled to slow her breath. She’d done it. Thank goodness.

Jubilant, she did a quick circle and chuffed her pleasure. Whoever had been following her was long gone. If only she could fist pump the air. Instead, she contented herself with a happy yip. She didn’t care that she’d lost an entire outfit along the way, she’d replace every article.

With her tail held high, she turned to continue a light jog home when a large fist grasped her by the scruff and yanked her into the air.

Terror squeezed her heart. Firm digits gripped her and dangled her five feet above the ground as though her weight was no concern.

With a panicked breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and lashed out, kicking with all four paws while snapping her teeth. She couldn’t have cared less what she bit, so long as her captor released her.

The moment her teeth sank into an arm, she rejoiced and dug in until blood gushed into her mouth. 

“Jesus H. Christ, woman!” A savage growl rent the night air.

Sky’s heart slammed against her ribs, but rather than release her target, she clamped her jaws down and shook her head like a dog. Her muscles tensed as she awaited retaliation. Instead, her feet continued to dangle, the fingers in her scruff holding tight.

“Are you finished?” came a deep voice.

Sky cracked open an eyelid and peered up from beneath her eyelashes at the scowling giant who held her hostage. She popped open her other eye and let her gaze sweep up his leather-clad length.

Oh, crap!

Swallowing past the searing blood, Sky unlatched her jaw and released the burly arm from her mouth. Now she was in for it. Though she hadn’t caught a glance of her attacker’s face, she highly doubted the alpha of the Colorado River Basin Pack had been the one following her. Though his scent possessed a familiar note of fur, it wasn’t the same as the one who stalked her. She swallowed and braced herself before meeting the alpha’s furious gaze.

“I’m going to release you, now.” His jaw ticked his displeasure. “If you run, I will hunt you down.”

Sky swallowed a slight squeak. Running was what she did best, but rather than test him, she nodded and braced for the slight drop. Instead, he lowered her gently, waiting for all fours to touch the concrete before releasing his grip on her scruff.

“Shift.”

One word, yet she knew this was more than a request. Her bones complied before her mind did, and she groaned as her body crumpled. The shift came slower, her wolf howling in her head the entire time.
Run!
They weren’t safe until they were behind locked doors. But she couldn’t. The alpha had warned her of the repercussions if she did. Not to mention that she was too exhausted to shift again so quickly, and outrunning him on two legs didn’t seem possible.

With a wavering breath, she pushed to her feet with a grunt, her lashes fluttering as she staggered to the side. No helping hands came from the alpha; instead, Sky gripped the nearest tree until the dizziness passed. Only then did she open her eyes.

The alpha stood across from her, blood slowly seeping from his injured arm as he leaned against a lamppost. Ambient light shone down on him, illuminating his massive frame, slate eyes, and rigid jaw. At first glance, Wyatt Turner was a truly frightening man. Every inch of him was hardened muscle, as though he made it a personal goal to maintain zero body fat, something most would have killed for. Truthfully, though, his fit frame had more to do with his rough-and-tumble lifestyle as did the jagged scar that began at the corner of his mouth and slashed across his cheek. Or so her dossier claimed. It was her job to know the many alphas scattered around the country—and Wyatt was not someone easily forgotten.

Her gaze raked over the terrifying scar. She couldn’t recall its history, nor could she tear her eyes away from it. In the amber light, it stood in stark relief, highlighting the unnatural crook of his mouth. Another scar severed the edge of his right eyebrow, though his eye remained untouched. He was one bad-ass mofo, his extraordinary frame hugged by the finest leathers.

He cocked a thick brow and studied her, the slight twitch in his wide jaw the only indication that his arm ached. “Explain.”

Skylar’s nerves fluttered in her stomach and she gazed back the way she’d come. Nothing. For all intents and purposes, the park appeared abandoned. Her nostrils flared as she drew in a breath—still nothing. But she knew the truth. She’d felt the chill deep down in her bones.
He’d
been here.

The alpha cleared his throat.

Sky turned back to him, an embarrassed blush chasing over her cheeks. Like she wanted to admit to an alpha that she’d run from a threat. No werewolf worth a grain of salt would have acted in such a way, but it wasn’t as though it was a human stalking her. It rankled her to no end that she’d run, but her stalker was a full-blooded male werewolf. What chance did she stand in a fight?

“I—I know it isn’t recommended to shift in city limits,” she stuttered as she gazed down her bare length. Thankfully, nudity was a regular occurrence in the daily routine of a werewolf.

“So, you thought you’d run around howling for shits and giggles? Doesn’t explain why you reek of fear or,” he held up his arm, “this.”

Sky blew out a harsh breath. “I was being followed, all right?”

The other brow winged up, and the alpha pushed off the lamppost. He strode toward her, his muscles bunching beneath the leather as he moved, and drew in a deep breath. She knew what scents he’d find—moss, grass, dead leaves—nothing that indicated the presence of anyone other than them.

A flicker of skepticism darkened his eyes. “No one here but you and me.”

Her mouth twisted and she let her gaze sweep his length, taking in the dark blue jeans that peeked out from beneath his chaps and the black T-shirt stretched across his chest. It was true—it was only the two of them… Fear punched through her gut. Surely, that couldn’t mean Wyatt had been the one following her, could it? She knew there were alphas who could mask or change their scent, but he couldn’t have been the one stalking her. Though…she recalled the shadowed image of the brute that had chased her through the streets, and she realized with a jolt of fear that Wyatt was the right height and build.

Before she could speak on her behalf, Wyatt stepped over the path and approached her. Sky’s breath caught, the sheer size of him pushing her back a step. His hand reached out, and she watched with a parted mouth as he grasped a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his index finger.

“Blonde,” he stated, his mouth pursed as though her hair color offended him. His gaze drilled into hers as he grabbed her chin and forced her head up. “Blue eyes.”

Her heart shot up into her throat. Had her assessment of Wyatt Turner been wrong? His scent was different! But her wolf scolded her for basing her impression off such an inane thing. She knew what alphas were capable of! Sky went still, her blood like ice as she faced who she now believed to be her stalker.
Fight
, her wolf howled in her head.

The alpha leaned in, and when he drew in her scent, she snapped her knee up, drilling him in his tender bits before she turned and fled.

 

Chapter 3

Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Wyatt groaned and staggered for the nearest tree, the air rushing from his lungs. It’d been years since anyone had dared sack him. And while he wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and pray to the heavens above that his boys still dangled from the appropriate spot, he couldn’t allow the she-wolf to escape.

So he stood straight, shook off the blow, and raced forward, his stride a little bowlegged thanks to that sharp knee. What he hadn’t expected was to have to sprint to keep up with her, quick-footed little minx that she was. Nor had he expected a small smile to tug at his lips as he watched her firm ass book it through the mossy trees. Stark naked, and that hardly slowed her. Someone had eaten her Wheaties. ’Course, he had to remember that the little devil had attacked him and disobeyed his order. He mustn’t forget that.

But if he didn’t catch her soon—preferably before she bolted out into the streets—there’d be a hefty indecent exposure ticket coming her way. A shame, really. Anyone with such a pert ass should be able to flaunt it as much as she liked.

As he watched her duck around a carved tree stump, he wondered if she’d been the next intended victim. Blonde and blue-eyed, after all. Which may not have been a requirement, but three dead bodies with matching physical characteristics was more than coincidence. And if she was the next mark, it raised another question: were any of the others werewolves? He’d only seen the one victim from today, and she was human. Shane had agreed to let him look at the files for the other two, so he made a mental note to research that. This one, though, had the sweet smell of werewolf all over her. The moment he’d lifted her in the air, he’d felt it settle into his lungs—a mouth-watering combination of fur, forest, and a whiff of honeysuckle.

He hopped over the same stump, fingers tearing at his clothes as he moved, before shifting midair. As alpha, it was a move he’d perfected years ago. And with his bulk, it was the only way he would catch her. Tiny thing that she was, she zipped through the coppice, narrowly avoiding the grasping branches that seemed determined to make his life miserable.

Wyatt ate up the distance between them without trying. He dogged her steps, waiting for the upcoming bed of moss before launching into the air and taking her down. Her sharp squeal of terror cut straight through his chest. At the last moment, he tucked his paws so as not to scratch her. Except, the little spitfire took the opportunity to throw a right hook.

Stars…

Sparkly lights danced before his eyes, his jaw aching. Christ. He shook his head and slapped her arms down with his front paws, bracing her weight as she squirmed against him. Vocabulary would be useful here. But first he snapped his teeth in her face, his lips reared back, revealing his fangs to ensure she got the point. Face pale, her bottom lip trembled…and oh hell, didn’t that slay him. His heart squeezed at the sight of a single tear slipping down her cheek. With a sigh, he lowered his lips and shifted, his paws lengthening into strong fingers that held her pinned.

“Please,” she whispered.

Wyatt groaned, trying to ignore the sensation of her brushing against him. “Would you stop?” he hissed. Because hell if his dick wasn’t responding to her small thrusts, the traitorous bastard.

“Let me go,” she pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I—”

“Woman,” Wyatt growled, “if you’d just listen…”

She stilled beneath him, a strange twinkle in her eyes.

Wyatt’s brows deepened. What schemes did she have running through her head? “I’m not going to—”

Pain.

Wyatt groaned. It took every ounce of strength to hold her down and not fall to the side. Where the hell had she learned to headbutt someone like that? For the third time tonight, he shook himself and struggled to clear away the tiny, twittering birds that fluttered around his head.

“—hurt you,” he grunted.

“W—What?”

Oh, thank the Lord. “I said…” He released one of her arms to lift a hand to his head. He couldn’t believe this teeny woman had nearly knocked him out cold. Some alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why did you chase me?” Her warm breath brushed over his mouth.

“Why did you sack me?”

She shifted her weight for a second time, that knee in question accidentally brushing against him. Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath and snapped his jaw shut, blindsided by a confusing cocktail of pain and pleasure.

“No, why were you chasing me before that?”

“Before what?” He wanted to bat at the offending birds that still circled his head. Couldn’t think with them up there, whistling Dixie as they went round and round and round.

“Back on the street!” She wriggled her other arm free and pushed up onto her elbows.

Wyatt’s gaze dropped. Oh buddy, don’t look there. Not that he could tear his gaze away now that he’d succumbed. Two small mounds stared up at him, and much like the proverbial cherry on top, her nipples were deliciously taut. From the cold, you sick pervert. Snarling at himself, he forced his gaze northward, his mouth twisting at the sheer annoyance in her eyes. “I wasn’t chasing you on the street.”

She pursed her lush pink lips. “That wasn’t you?”

“Sweetheart, as you can see, I don’t chase. I catch.”

Anger bloomed within her, the sharp scent smacking him in his face. And hell if it wasn’t enticing—like a splash of spice mixed with something sweet. “Get off me.”

He spared a glance down their lengths and dropped his head at the sight of his not-so-little soldier standing at full attention. Uh…

“Now, if you don’t mind.”

Wyatt lifted his head and glared down on her until she flinched. Like hell he was going to take orders from a sprite of a thing, trapped beneath him. “Talk,” he said, resorting to his infamous one-worded orders.

“About?”

He pulled his lips back in a savage snarl. She knew exactly what explanation he wanted—playing coy wasn’t going to solve matters.

With a long sigh, she collapsed back into the undergrowth and stared up at the canopy as defeat chased across her face. “There’s nothing to explain. I was being followed, so I ran.”

“Really.” He held her stare, waiting for her to elaborate.

She pushed her long tresses back from her face, her nose wrinkled as she gazed up into the midnight sky. Seemed she was hell bent on ignoring him. A deep growl built up in Wyatt’s throat. People didn’t ignore him. They stood at attention and obeyed. Hence, alpha. But this little spitfire refused to look at him, let alone listen.

“Care to elaborate?”

She dropped her chin and pinned him with a frustrated stare that raised his hackles. “Why?”

“Why?” Wyatt blinked. What the… No one ever questioned him.

“Look, this really isn’t any of your business, ’kay? So, get off me.”

The growl rumbled out of his throat.

“Please?” she asked with a quirked mouth, as though placating him.

“Tell ya what.” Wyatt settled down onto his elbows, his clasped hands hovering above her teasingly gorgeous breasts. “We’re going to stay right here, in this exact position, until you spill the beans.”

“What?” she shrieked.

Wyatt lifted his brows. “I’m not kidding.”

“Look, I don’t know who he is!” she finally exclaimed. “But I do know I’m being watched, all right? Everywhere I go, I feel his eyes on me.”

“Whose?”

“His!” she shouted. “I don’t know who. I know how this sounds. But I’m telling the truth.”

The truth about what? So far he hadn’t gotten anything of value out of her.

“Can I go now?” she mumbled, clearly annoyed with the topic of conversation.

Wyatt almost laughed. “Sure, darling.”

Her eyes shot open and she gazed up at him with a look of such wonder. “Really?”

“No.”

Her face crumpled. “I’m sorry I attacked you! I thought…”

“What did you think?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She raked her hands down her face and blew out a heavy breath.

“My balls disagree.”

She sucked in her bottom lip and shot a glance down. At the sight of him hovering above her, she swallowed and flicked him a wary glance. Because that was what a man loved to see, sheer panic at the sight of his dick. He refused to apologize for it; he was hovering above an attractive woman—gorgeous, actually—and the cock wants what the cock wants.

“What’s your name?” he finally demanded. There were other answers he needed as well, like what the hell she was doing so close to his territory because he knew she wasn’t one of his. No way would he have been able to keep his hands off her if she were. For now, though, he’d settle for her name.

Her tongue flicked out and dampened her lips. And there went the rest of his blood. “Skylar. Sky Callahan.”

He frowned. Why was her name so familiar? But rather than ask, he pushed to his feet and turned away. “Get up.”

“Uh, where are we going?”

Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. It was his heart that stirred this time, contracting at the sight of her meek and terrified, kneeling in the soft moonlight. Clearing his throat, he jerked his head in the direction they’d come. Keep your head on straight, boyo. No time to let the libido steal the show.  “Now.” He refused to wait; instead, he turned and stalked back into the thick brush.

***

Don’t cry.

Skylar forced her lower lip still—tears wouldn’t gain her anything. Nor would the werewolf stalking through the brush ahead of her appreciate them. She’d felt how he’d tensed above her when a single tear had escaped. To their kind, strength and ferocity was revered, something Wyatt Turner possessed in spades. Snivelling over the delicate position she’d landed herself in wouldn’t endear her to anyone.

Not that she wanted to endear herself to him. Unfortunately for Sky, anger and fear weren’t emotions she handled well. For some reason, they always resulted in tears. And right now she was both terrified and furious. At him for thinking he could control her, at herself for allowing it, and terrified because she’d thought he was going to kill her.

Still, the last thing she wanted was to appear weak. For the past decade, she’d lived amongst humans and had picked up certain trademarks that she knew her kind wouldn’t take well to. She couldn’t imagine what he thought of her right now, a discomfiting thought that brought a curse to her lips.

In her time with her former pack, she’d learned that dominant werewolves possessed an instinctive need to protect those weaker than them. And baby, Wyatt Turner was all kinds of dominant. If there was one thing she appreciated about human males, they at least tried to control their inner caveman. Werewolves, however, were incapable of separating themselves from that side.

Of course, this train of thought only served to remind her that there was something she required protection from. She’d be a fool to deny it. Whoever was stalking her, he refused to keep his obsession a secret. Nothing like a few skin-crawling letters to make a girl feel wanted.

Hot tears rushed up the back of her throat, but with a steadying breath, she tipped her head back and stared up at the starry sky. Stiff upper lip, ’ol girl, she mused. No use crying about it; tears wouldn’t solve anything. Though she couldn’t believe she’d sacked an alpha tonight. Or slugged him. Or, hell, headbutted him. Before she left her pack to pursue a career among the humans, she never would have been so brazen. The same couldn’t be said for tonight. Fear might have been gnawing at her gut, but she’d refused to lie back and let some crazed stalker have his way with her.

She shivered.

“Problem?”

Wyatt’s voice broke through her thoughts. Sky startled and dropped her chin, only to find a large man looming over her. Her breath hitched at the sight of him, built like a bloody brick house. Surely there were laws against someone looking that good. And yes, she’d stolen a gander or two. Or three. The wide expanse of his tattooed shoulders and chest had her gaze dipping down to his tapered waist. And there it was, brazen as all hell, an Adonis belt that put all others to shame. Really, it should be illegal. Like federal offense with twenty-to-life sort of punishment.

She blew out a breath and shoved her mussed hair back from her chilled face. Long ago, she’d learned that the Fates were bitches with a capital B. It wasn’t surprising that they would see fit to drop a man like Wyatt in her lap when she felt as though she’d been dragged backward through the hedge. As though her pride wasn’t rankled enough.

Shaking her head, she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “No problem, but I should leave. You know, places to go, people to see…and all that…” Her voice trailed off, heat flushing her cheeks at the sight of his brow arching. Shane would be sick with worry for her. Not that she could call him with her phone abandoned somewhere back on the street.

“No.”

Sky blinked. Just like that? No? “Excuse me?”

“No.”

There was that word again. She slowly straightened, her eyes narrowed on him. “Listen here, Buddy.” So to ensure that he understood, she enunciated her next words, adding a final punch to each by jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “You’re not my alpha.”

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