Reach for the Sky (Wolffe Peak Book 1) (6 page)

Sky all but flew off the bike the moment Wyatt geared down. Pulse all a-flutter, she stalked clear across the garage and analyzed her surroundings. Nothing spectacular, just a man parking his motorcycle in his uncluttered shop. Everything seemed to have its place. Everything except her. She
so
didn’t belong here, didn’t belong on any pack turf. Her former alpha had made the terms rather clear when he’d exiled her nearly six years ago.

“Got a thing for wood?”

She sucked in a sharp breath and whirled around, loose strands of hair snaking around her neck. “Excuse me?”

He rose from his bike, his denim-clad legs straddling the chopper. Sky’s mouth dried, her heart giving a kick when her traitorous mind replayed the scene from her house. With a deep breath, she forced the image away. The last thing she needed to think about right now was that smoldering kiss that would have scorched her panties, had she been wearing any.

Wyatt removed his helmet, the movement distracting her from such thoughts. He jerked his chin toward the shelving. “You’ve been staring at those shelves since we pulled in.”

She turned back to the shelves in question. Truthfully, she had barely noticed them in her need to escape his overwhelming presence. An eternity had passed since he’d ordered her to mount the bike behind him—and hell, if her cheeks hadn’t burned when he’d uttered that word. The long ride had been torturous, feeling his every muscle shift beneath her as he flawlessly controlled his motorcycle, not to mention the heat his body put off. The worst had been the sharp turns that had forced her to clutch at him. Her damned palm still burned from the feel of his hard chest beneath it. And just like that, the lightbulb flicked on above her head. The bastard had
purposely
taken the turns hard, forcing her to scramble and grab for him so as not to fall off the bike.

Her mouth twisted. Of course he had.

“Listen, darling, now that we have a minute alone, we need to talk about what happened back there.”

She blinked, and, with a harsh breath, pushed her bangs back from her face. She hated this. How did he look so fine when she felt as though she’d been raked over coals? “Believe me, there’s
nothing
to discuss. The next time you feel the need to shove your tongue down my throat, don’t.”

Wyatt pushed away from his bike, his face inscrutable as he studied her. “You saying you didn’t enjoy it?”

Her cheeks flushed.
For crying out loud
, of course he had to ask
that
. “No one enjoys being slobbered on.”

A look of true insult crossed his face. “Sweetheart, I’ve never slobbered on a woman in my entire life.”

“Men,” she said with a disgusted scoff.

“Like women are any better,” he muttered. “But that’s not what I was talking about.”

“I don’t want to talk about
that
either, all right? I’m not looking for a mate. So, let’s forget it.” Her wolf snarled in her head.

“I’m not exactly jumping up and down for joy either, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.” Frustrated, she ripped the elastic out of her hair and shook out her platinum mane.

The darkness in his eyes abated for a moment as he watched her sweep it back once more and secure it into a quick knot. “As much as I enjoy the sexy librarian fantasy you’ve got going for you right now, I much prefer your hair down. Don’t tie it back on my account.”

She froze with her fingers at the back of her neck. With a withering glare, she yanked it back tighter. “I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

“Don’t recall caring,” Wyatt shot back before he ascended the stairs. “You coming or what?”

After a long ten hours on the plane, not to mention the
lovely
adventure at her house, then the time it’d taken to arrive here, she was about ready to drop. At this point, all she longed for was somewhere to rest her head, even if that place was a hard floor.

“Boss, glad to see you two made it one piece.” Axel sidled up to them, his gaze flicking between them. “Everything all right?”

Sky bit her tongue. She had to remember that she was on his turf now. Speaking out of turn could earn her a one-way ticket to death row. And no matter how independent she’d grown in the past years, she knew well enough to avoid that.

“Right as rain,” Wyatt assured him before striding through the house.

Axel and Sky shared a hesitant glance. Unsure whether or not to follow, Sky eased away from the wall and drifted forward. Her eyes roamed the expansive interior.
Holy hell
, the last thing she’d expected was a bloody mansion. Mouth agape, she circled the first room she stumbled upon. From the look of the large television perched before the couch, she guessed it to be the living room.

At first glance, this house seemed ill-fitted to Wyatt. Everything about him screamed hard-ass, but this house…it appeared well-cared for. As though it possessed a woman’s touch. Delicate wall hangings and a lovely carpet that ran the length of the floor welcomed her. The furniture was a touch worn but both the supple couch and matching armchair possessed an air of comfort. Between them sat a cooler teeming with beer, and to the left was the start of what appeared to be a beer can fortress, towers included. The entire house was a mess of contrasts, one she couldn’t wrap her head around; yet, instantly, she knew she liked it. There was a warm aura to the place, quite unlike hers, thanks to her stalker.

She turned, her gaze landing upon a group of three men that hovered around a prized pool table made of lush green felt and cherry mahogany wood. She watched as the cue ball banked off the side of the table, then darted toward the small cluster of gleaming billiard balls. And when a striped ball rebounded into the nearest pocket, two of the men roared their enjoyment and high-fived one another. She hadn’t seen such camaraderie in ages, even among the humans. With a job like hers—public advocacy for werewolves—the humans knew she wasn’t one of them. It had made for some lonely Saturday nights. Though she loathed the circumstances in which Shane had entered her life, she at least appreciated the friend. And a true friend he was.

“Welcome to our little abode,” Axel murmured in his delightful accent.

She did another turnabout, noting the larger group that lingered near a dart board. The chalkboard next to them was covered with cramped scribbles, but at first count, the side with Wyatt’s name appeared to be in the lead.

“Alpha!” a boisterous voice boomed through the house.

She stumbled into Axel when yet another giant-sized man rushed by her. What the hell was Wyatt feeding them? Even the women she spotted were immense.

“Easy,
chère
,” Axel chuckled. “Wouldn’t do for you to get run over, now would it?”

“What is this place?” She watched, astounded, as two smaller-framed females raced to the couch, breathlessly laughing as they tussled over the one red console controller.

“Home,” Axel said with a half-shrug. “We don’t all live here. The house can lodge ten of us at any time. There are currently eight of us—nine if you include the alpha—who live here permanently. The rest have their own lodgings spread throughout the community.” Axel stepped forward with her bag in hand. “Come, Sky. Let’s get you settled into a room.”

Now
that
she could support.

“One hour,” Wyatt called as he strode toward the dart board.

“
Oui, mon ami
.”

Sky ignored Wyatt’s vague words until she and Axel were upstairs and out of sight. Once he pointed her toward the only remaining empty room, she turned and inquired about the stated time limit with an arched brow.

“Your police friend will be here by then,” Axel informed her as he lowered her bag down onto the bed then set about snapping the curtains shut. “To keep out prying eyes,” he said when he caught her arched brow.

Her blood turned to ice, reminding her that her life had taken yet another skewed turn to Shittyville.

A firm hand settled on her shoulder as gentle fingers guided her chin up. “You are strong,
chère
. You’ll get through this. But we’re here to protect you as well.”

“From Wyatt too?” Her voice warbled, but her mouth curved as she delivered the weak joke. Her entire life she’d prayed that she’d never come across her so-called destined mate. And now that she’d met him, she remembered why.

Axel joined in with a low chuckle of his own. “Nah, you’re screwed there.”             

“Is he always such a dick?”

A strange glint appeared in Axel’s dark brown eyes. “He’s in a rough mood tonight. Things will seem better tomorrow.”

She blew out a heavy breath and nodded. “One hour, right?”

“Fear not,” he chuckled. “Someone will fetch you if your sheriff arrives before you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” She closed the door behind his retreating figure and set to unpacking.

Her attention drifted toward the bed. A plush eyelet quilt beckoned. She drifted closer and ran her hand over the soft material. An hour wasn’t much time, but at this point, she’d take anything. A moment later, she curled atop the bedspread and fell asleep with her head cradled between two plump pillows.

“Where’s the girl?”

Wyatt’s head rose at the sound of Bale’s voice. His beta paced into the room and threw himself down into the nearest chair, leg hooked over the armrest. The man looked the picture of ease and grace, which only annoyed Wyatt further. For the past forty minutes, he’d been scouring the Web for any information regarding the three victims. Shane had warned him that they were keeping it quiet, and from the whole whopping squat he’d found, they’d succeeded.

At one point, he’d considered asking Sky, until he recalled the look of absolute shock when he’d mentioned the three victims. Seemed Shane had a lot to answer for, and he couldn’t imagine the sheriff was looking forward to that conversation.

“Earth to Wyatt.” Bale waved a hand in front of his face.

“I don’t know. She’s somewhere,” Wyatt muttered. He shifted in his chair and turned back to the computer, fingers clacking furiously against the keyboard as he ran yet another search.

“Ah, thanks, I gathered that much.”

Wyatt cast a tapered glance toward his beta. “Why do you care where she is?”

A low chuckle graced Bale’s lips. “Oh, you know, maybe because we’re supposed to be protecting her.”

“There are a dozen werewolves in this house at any given time. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Yo.” Bale rapped his knuckles against Wyatt’s mahogany desk. “Have you forgotten that there’s some sick bastard out there gunning for her? Because I sure haven’t.”

Wyatt sighed and dropped his head into his hands. Of course he hadn’t forgotten—rather, didn’t want to think about it. It ate at him that she was in danger. “What do you want, Bale?”

“The girl’s on the news. Thought she might want to see, since her life is about to change dramatically.”

“What?” Wyatt’s head snapped up. “What do you mean she’s on the news?”

Bale’s mouth quirked. “I mean someone took some not-so-lovely pictures of her house, and they’re airing it live right now.”

With a mumbled curse, Wyatt snatched his remote off the desk and flicked on the television. He cranked up the volume and leaned forward on his desk, his gut twisting when an image of Sky’s house flashed across his screen.

A female reporter’s voice kicked in mid-sentence. “…
the whereabouts of Werewolf Public Advocate Skylar Callahan are currently unknown
—”

Wyatt blinked.
Werewolf public advocate
?

“
Dios mío
.” Bale straightened in his seat and leaned over, elbows perched between his knees. “I knew I recognized her. A man does not forget a woman like her,” he murmured, grinning when he caught Wyatt’s harsh glare. “Ah, I had wondered…”

“Wondered what, boyo?”

The corner of Bale’s mouth twitched. “When I saw the two of you together, snapping at each other like children, I had wondered if maybe—”

“Oh,
hell no
,” Wyatt hissed. “That’s a thought process you are
not
to encourage.” It was bad enough that his wolf craved her; he did
not
need his men introducing such thoughts to the pack.

“Is that so? You mean to tell me that we didn’t interrupt anything earlier—”

“Bale!”

“All right,” Bale mused as he dropped back into the chair. “So what if she and I…” His brow winged up.

A raw growl scraped past Wyatt’s lips.

His beta lifted his hands. “Tell me if she’s off-limits, boss.”

“She is absolutely, unequivocally off-limits.”

Bale ran his hand across his lips. “Because…?”

Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath and whipped the remote control across the room, his jaw setting when it shattered against the wall. “Because I said so. And this topic is closed.” He met his beta’s stare with one of his own, his lip curled back over his teeth.

“Ah, because that is a sane reaction.”

Wyatt’s eyes shuttered and he dropped his head into his hands. “Don’t push me, Bale.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss.”

His second’s sardonic voice rubbed him the wrong way. Massaging the tension out of his temples, he directed a sly glance back to his computer.
Werewolf public advocate
…he’d recognized Sky’s name when she’d first given it, but hadn’t been able to place exactly where he’d heard it. Now that he knew, he almost wished he didn’t. The last thing he wanted was a high-profile mate.

Turning his chair back to his computer, he pulled the keyboard closer and typed in her name. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find multiple pages focused on her. Seemed Skylar had established herself among the political and academic crowds. What the hell did a Master’s in Sociocultural Evolutionism with a specialization in werewolves entail, anyhow?

Multiple social media sites flashed her image. Hell, she even had her own website. Thumbing through the tabs, he brought up the images of her and his jaw dropped. Was it any wonder she’d attracted a stalker?

The creak of the chair across from him alerted him to Bale’s movement, and a moment later, a shadow dropped over him as his beta came for a look.

“Well, damn.” Bale released a low whistle. “Looks like our girl has been making quite the name for herself.”

Dancing at a presidential ball…no, Sky had already made a name for herself. And
boy howdy
, she looked stunning in a low-backed gold ball gown. Hell, he steered clear of the media, and even he’d seen this photo when it hit the newsstands. How could he have forgotten?

“Look here.” Bale tapped the screen. “Escorted by Senator Samuel Cohan.”

Sweet Lord
, the woman had contacts. So what the hell was she doing in Wolffe Peak, Colorado?

The sound of her name drew Wyatt’s and Bale’s attention away from the computer and back toward the television.

“
Skylar Callahan was last spotted in Washington, D.C. not three days ago, campaigning for werewolf awareness, seen here
.”

An image of Skylar flashed across the screen. Wyatt studied her length, noting how they’d hidden her curves beneath well-tailored suits, lending an air of professionalism to her otherwise feminine form. With one ear, he listened to her speech about equality between humans and werewolves. The other guided his attention to the office door, where Skylar had appeared.

It was quite the change, seeing her now in a plain white tank top and low-riding jeans. He much preferred this look compared to the expensive suits. Tank top and jeans, he could accommodate that sort of lifestyle. Ball gowns and fancy parties, not so much.

Her gaze shot across the room to the television, and she winced at the sight of her house lit up with flood lights. Police vehicles and professionals surrounded her home, clearly investigating the scene they’d discovered in her bedroom.

She entered the room with her chin lifted in a show of strength. “So, now you know who I am.”

Indeed. Now he knew. Not that it changed a damned thing. Stunning ball gowns, hideous suits, or down-to-earth jeans, he still wanted her. And Wyatt wasn’t in the business of denying himself something he wanted. Mate or not. 

“Ah, welcome
querida
.” Bale rounded the desk and dropped back into the chair. With a rakish grin meant entirely for Wyatt, he hooked his foot around a second chair and pulled it flush against his before patting it lasciviously. “Have a seat.”

Snarling, Wyatt planted his foot against the edge of Bale’s chair and gave a strong push. He’d meant to shove him across the room, but with the wolf’s balance teetering toward the back of the seat, the extra weight sent the chair into a backward spiral. The sight of Bale’s wide eyes brought a harsh laugh to Wyatt’s lips, but it was nothing compared to the image of his second’s arms pin-wheeling moments before he tumbled backward to the floor, his long legs flipping over his head.

A long, drawn-out moan sounded from the floor. Wyatt leaned over his desk with a cocked brow and stared down at his beta. “Lesson learned?”

Bale groaned and rubbed the back of his head. “Quite emphatically.” Picking himself up, he righted the chair, then plopped back into it, a sullen expression twisting his face. “And I’m fine, thank you. Your concern is overwhelming.”

“Are you bleeding?”

He touched his hand to the back of his head and winced. “No.”

“Then shut up.”

Sky’s dulcet voice piped up from the corner of the room. “Are you seeing double? You hit your head pretty hard. Do you remember your name?”

Bale blinked and then slid a coy smile in her direction. “Ah,
querida
, your concern is touching.”

Wyatt kept his eyes on his second, his jaw tight. “He’s fine, Sky. Bale, go fetch the others. The sheriff should be here any moment now. Wait downstairs until he arrives. Then bring them all up. I’d like a few moments to speak with Sky. Alone.”

She sucked in a sharp breath and glanced his way, her teeth nibbling at the corner of her lip.

Bale gave a terse nod and rose from his seat, the humor wiped clean from his face. He left the room, and Wyatt indicated that Sky should sit.

“I don’t know.” Her mouth pursed. “What if you decide to push me over?”

He cut her a sharp glance. “Bale’s used to it.”

She placed her arms on the armrests and eased into the seat. “Your beta is used to being pushed around by you? Good to know.”

He cursed and grabbed a pencil from the corner of his desk, idly spinning it between his fingers. “That’s not what I meant.”

A twinkle of playfulness sparked in her eye. “I know.”

Wyatt stared. She was beautiful. There was something open and honest about her. And after all she’d been through today, he admired her ability to keep things light.
Admired
. That was a word he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of. There were so few in his life whom he held in high regard. In one night, Sky had wormed her way onto that short list.

He lowered the pencil down onto the desk and faced her with brutal honesty. Keep it business. “When Shane arrives, he and my first three will join us.”

Fear whisked across her face, but she merely nodded.

“There are things I need to know. If we’re going to stop this bastard, I need
all
the information.” He silently applauded himself for maintaining a calm and steady voice. It seemed he could be nice when the situation arose. Not that he’d ever felt the need to do so before tonight.

Her hands shifted into her lap where she clasped them together and gave another terse nod.

“That means we might have to discuss things that are hard for you to talk about.”

Another nod. She glanced down into her lap, a stray lock of hair slipping over her shoulder. Her vulnerability punched Wyatt in the gut.

“I’m not going to apologize for having to ask you the hard questions. This is important.”

A fourth nod.

“Damn it, say something. Don’t just sit there nodding,” he growled. All right, so he’d run out of “nice”.

“I get it, Wyatt.” She cleared her throat and lifted her head. “You don’t need to coddle me. I won’t break.”

“Glad to hear it.” He glanced at the door and gestured for his men to enter.

“Ah,
chère
, glad to see you a little more alert.” Axel sidled up next to her and squeezed her shoulder before taking up his usual post against the far left wall.

Harley entered next, a giant grin tugging on his mouth as Bale followed behind him. The moment Wyatt’s gaze met Bale’s, he groaned. Whatever had transpired between his men downstairs, Bale and Harley looked a touch too smug for his liking.

“Sky!”

Her head snapped up, and she rose from the chair. “Shane!”

The two embraced. Snarling, Wyatt returned to his computer with the hope of striking that particular image from his memory. His wolf demanded blood, fangs gnashing at the sight of another man touching his mate.
Get it together, boyo
.

“One big happy family, eh?” Bale laughed as he strode into the room.

“Enough. Sit.” Wyatt gestured toward the empty seats. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be the only one sitting. Normally, he was content in his strength, but everything about tonight had him on edge.

A pile of folders rested in Shane’s lap. At first glance, Wyatt counted four. Three were gray, the fourth a pale blue. Seemed the local enforcement color-coded the offenses.

“Sky, the floor is yours.”

Her pained cornflower eyes knocked the breath out of him. It took effort, but Wyatt softened his gaze and offered a small grin.

Sky blanched at the sight of it. Clearing his throat, Wyatt swallowed the smile. He’d never admit it aloud, but he knew the effect of his scars, so rather than submit her to them, he turned and took up Axel’s previous post.

“It’s all right,” Shane whispered. “Start from the beginning. Pretend you’re talking to me.”

She nodded, her messy ponytail bobbing at the back of her head. “It started after my mother’s funeral a little over a year ago.” Her tenuous hold on the armrests broke, and she brought her hands together in her lap, once more.