Taken by the Wolf: Collection (12 page)

There was still the fact that she was considered a missing person hanging over her head, something she would have to find a way to clear up eventually. It was obvious the law in Cedarville was hunting for her, but did her parents even care?

She imagined her father taking the phone call, informing him that his little girl had been kidnapped or worse. He had probably hung up and immediately called his publicist, wanting to keep his name out of the story. Or he would go on TV, sobbing about his missing little girl to try and garner sympathy and get his name out there. She wondered if her mom's stone face even shed a tear, or was she too high on Valium to even know what was going on?

As she sat in the truck waiting for Rowan, she grew even angrier. The people in her past began to flood into her mind, reminding her what a raw deal they'd all given her. Most people thought it was great to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth, never wanting for money. She would take love over money any day of the week. A warm hug before bed would have been wonderful growing up; instead, she got a story from the nanny and a pat on the head.

Did her parents not see how fucked up their way of raising a child was? They saw her more as an accessory to be paraded around at events than a child to be nurtured and loved. It was amazing she even had the capacity. If not for the attention of a few caring nannies and cooks, she would probably be an emotionless, spoiled rich girl living out her days tanning by her dad's pool while snorting cocaine off the pool boy's dick.

She looked in the side mirror, seeing a werewolf walking to his car with what was obviously a human female on his arm. The woman was a little curvier than average, nothing like the hard-bodied female wolves who populated the town. She wore an ear-to-ear smile as her mate spoke to her, looking down at her with love in his eyes as they continued by. She was hanging on his every word, obviously in love with him.

Is this what it's like to be with a werewolf
? she wondered.
Are all the human females like this?

Her eyes continued to lingered on the happy couple as they put groceries away in their truck. Males wolves seemed to enjoy driving trucks, Eva observed. Her thoughts travelled away from her parents to Jason.

Jason,
she thought.
What an asshole.

He had been so into her at first, but there was always something off about him, something that made her uneasy the entire time she knew him. He would give her backhanded compliments, insulting her at the same time. He would obviously check out other girls in front of her and then suggest she not order desert or eat her entire meal. She’d been powerless, afraid that he was all she could ever have. She had always prided herself on being strong, but she’d been so weak at that time. Never again would she let someone walk all over her like that again.

She was torn from her thoughts by a loud banging in the back of the truck. She spun around to see Rowan leaning over the edge, filling an ice chest with sandwich meat and drinks. He then walked around to the driver's door and opened it, setting a loaf of bread and a blanket next to her.

"Are we having a picnic?" she asked as he climbed into the truck.

"I figured we might get hungry where we’re going," he said.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

He looked over at her and smiled. "We're going to where it all began."

"Where what began?"  she asked, a little confused.

"The five packs, of course," he said, like she should be familiar with wolf history.

"And where is that?" she asked.

"The hills behind Bucklin," he told her. "It's kind of a hike. Good thing you wore tennis shoes today."

"I figured something was up after Eden tried to whisk me away," she said. "Why are we going out there?"

"I want to teach you about Bucklin and the wolves," he said. "It just seemed appropriate to do it where the packs lived before Bucklin."

"You lived there?" she asked.

"Oh no," he said, chuckling. "How old do you think I am?"

"Like...thirty-something," she said bluntly.

Rowan turned to her, a little bit of hurt in his eyes. "I'm 29."

"Oh I see," she said, laughing. "Sorry, old man."

"Old man?" he asked, looking incredulous. "Wolves look young until they hit about sixty."

"Great," she said. "I'm going to be an old hag while you still look ready to run a marathon."

"Don't worry," he said, winking at her. "I'm sure you'll always be beautiful."

"Do wolves live longer?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he said. "But not much longer than humans if at all on the whole."

Together they listened to the radio and cut eyes at each other, both feeling the obvious chemistry between them. She was excited that he was going to teach her a little something about werewolves, and getting out into nature might be the best way to clear her head and organize the events of the last three days. She never knew so much could happen in such a short period of time. It would have driven anyone else mad.

Bucklin was surrounded by flat, open farmland to the south, east and west. North of the city was a tall range of hills, covered in old cedar and maple trees. It was an impressive sight when walking around downtown—the hills looming over you like a wonderful backdrop, much nicer than the endless fields on the other sides.

They pulled Rowan's vehicle to a rest stop on the side of the road and parked in front of a wooden fence separating the rest stop from the untouched wonder of Mother Nature.

"So we're heading into those hills?" Eva asked, looking at the trail disappearing into the forest.

"Yes," Rowan said. "It won't be so bad, though, I'll carry you if you get tired."

"Please, I'm not a delicate little flower," Eva said with a chuckle.

"I would never accuse you of such a thing!" Rowan said, unbuttoning his sheriff's shirt. He took it off and stashed it in the back seat.

Eva couldn't believe it but he looked even hotter in a plain white crew-neck t-shirt. It hugged all the right spots, while billowing around his tight waist. She began to drift off, her eyes getting dreamy as she looked at her lover. His body was perfect, but his tanned, hard-lined face did even more for her. As he stood there looking at her she imagined a cigarette hanging out of his mouth to match his stubble and long, dark blonde hair.

Oh yeah,
she thought, imagining her smoking man straddling a motorcycle.
The perfect rebel without a cause.

She had never had the “man in uniform” fantasy until she met Rowan, and now she was having another new one: the James Dean fantasy.

Is there no end to the ways this man can make me feel?
she thought, following him into the trees.

Chapter 17

Rowan looked back at Eva as they continued to climb the steep paths that led up the hills behind Bucklin. He couldn't help but smile as she continued to climb, red-faced, panting and obviously tired. There was no quit in this girl and he loved that. She had a true warrior's spirit.

"Do you need a break?" he asked, stopping and stretching his back with one foot up on a large rock.

"Hell, no, Captain Morgan," she said, climbing to join him. "I'm just getting started. These are calves of steel."

"I believe it, after rubbing all over them," he said, leaning over and giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Even fatigued your wit doesn't dull."

"Fatigue?" she asked, shaking her head between heavy breaths. "I'm not tired at all."

Rowan could only laugh as he turned to continue up the path. As much as he liked his city life he couldn't deny the sheer pleasure he got from hiking in these hills. At one time they had been crawling with wolves, covering a large area. Residents of the town had been afraid to go into the hills, not understanding why so many wolves had made their home there. Residents of Bucklin called them the Wolf Hills; they weren't the most imaginative bunch. Rowan called them something different: his ancestral home.

Rowan's parents had grown up and lived in these hills, back when the packs were at one another's throats. They grew up in a brutal existence, fighting for food and territory, making uneasy alliances and sleeping with one eye open.

Those days didn't sound like the most appealing to Rowan, who enjoyed being able to leave his door unlocked at night. Unfortunately, with a possible traitor in the town, Rowan felt a bit more uneasy about day-to-day life.

"How far do these hills stretch?" Eva asked as they hit a straighter path and began walking at a more leisurely pace.

"Miles and miles," Rowan said. "I'd say close to forty miles."

"That's one hell of a range," Eva said, shaking her head.

"It's a great place," he said. "Filled with deer."

"What about bears?" she asked, looking around timidly.

"A few werebears call this place home," he said, noting Eva's eyes growing wide as he answered. "They're solitary animals, though, and they leave the wolves well enough alone, unless we're trying to steal their food."

"Good to know," he said, her eyes darting around.

"They live deeper in the forest," he said, laughing. "I don't think we'll run into any this close to town."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To have story time," he said, smiling back at her. "To a magical place."

"Real magic?" she asked. He could see the wonder in her eyes; three days ago she hadn’t known there was a whole world just behind the curtain of her life, and now she was ready to accept anything he said.

"Not in this case," he said. "It's magical to me though."

"Oh," she said, frowning in disappointment.

Rowan turned forward again. They weren't far from it now, the most important place in the history of the Bucklin wolf packs: the place where it all began.

His inner wolf was almost in a frenzy now, about to lose his mind with anticipation. Rowan's skin felt tight, like it was suffocating his wolf. His muscles were beginning to cramp and his head was getting heavy. There was a feral desire deep inside him, one that wanted to be free. It was torture to enter these woods and deny his wolf the pleasure of freedom. It was almost cruel.

"I'm sorry, Eva," he said, stopping and peeling off his shirt and unbuckling his pants.

"What are you doing?" she asked, taking a step away from him.

"Can you carry my clothes and the ice chest?" he asked. "It's not heavy."

"Yes," she said, still looking confused. "What are you going to do?"

"I can't take it anymore," he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I have to be free."

"Of your clothes?" she asked.

"You can carry that stuff on my back if you want," he said. "I can carry you, no problem."

After those words he began his transformation, feeling like a giant weight was being lifted from each part of his body as the change overtook him. Eva's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as he shifted into his mammoth wolf form right before her eyes.

* * *

Eva had seen Rowan shift twice already, and it was no less impressive the third time. Somehow the massive hunk of man in front of her transformed into a massive wolf. His large, amber eyes focused on her, the intelligence of Rowan hidden behind the animalistic form in front of her.

She still wasn't sure exactly how this worked. Was he still Rowan when he transformed? Was the wolf a different sentience with Rowan watching in the background? Did they work together? So many questions and no answers yet.

Rowan flipped his nose behind him, like he was pointing at his massive, horse-sized back.

"Do you want me to ride you?" she asked.

Rowan huffed in agreement and pointed at his back again, turning in a circle as he grew impatient.

Eva bent down to gather up his clothes, aware that her breasts were on full display due to the low-cut V-neck shirt she was wearing. She glanced up, catching the wolf staring intently at her chest, his tongue hanging out. A sly smile crept across Eva's face—even as a wolf he was interested in what he saw.

In one graceful motion she swung one leg over his back and pushed herself up, situating perfectly on Rowan's wide back. With a snort from Rowan they were off, loping through the undergrowth, making great haste for their destination.

This was an experience; one Eva never thought she'd have. Her beautiful, stud boyfriend had just transformed into a giant, majestic wolf and now she was riding him through the hills.

Hopefully I'll be riding him in another way later,
she thought, another smile creeping across her face.

Last night Rowan had been in complete control, doing whatever he wanted to her as she lay there and took his rough pounding. Tonight she was going to have her way with Rowan, and she would be in control.

He ran fast, and she could feel his powerful muscles working underneath her as he bounded over rocks and dodged around trees. Even at such a break-neck pace he was able to avoid low branches and not take Eva's head off.

She was blown away by how much care he was taking, even transformed into his most animalistic form—he still cared about her. The only drawback was that she now had nobody to talk to; he was as mute as any other animal.

Eva wondered which form Rowan preferred. Did he like being a human or did he yearn for the freedom of the wolf? Would he ever be truly happy with a mate who couldn't transform and run with him? A mate who couldn't hunt with him?

Stop it,
she told herself.
You always do this. You always find a reason to talk yourself out of someone.

Maybe it was a confidence problem; maybe she just didn't feel worthy. Eva put up a tough front, but inside she’d always been afraid she wasn't good enough for any potential mate. Over the years it had caused her to push people away, afraid to let anyone get close. The two people she should've been closest to, her parents, had done nothing but hurt her. After that, the man she’d thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with, Jason, had done the same to her.

This is different,
she thought.
A werewolf is completely different than a douchebag college guy. He's loyal, fiercely loyal. His wolf has claimed you, and there is no going back.