Terry Spear’s Wolf Bundle (31 page)

F
IVE MONTHS LATER
, D
EVLYN CRADLED
B
ELLA IN HIS
arms while they nestled on a new redwood porch swing he had crafted for her. She gazed at the beautiful greenhouse situated nearby—twice as big as her old one and already filled with rhododendrons and azaleas from Oregon, now her second home. “Chrissie wants us to come to her wedding in two months. She and Henry moved the date up, afraid I couldn’t travel if they waited too long or, if they delayed it until after the babies are born, it would be harder for me to take them with us.” She smiled up at Devlyn.

He grunted. “I knock Thompson out during my rescuing you at the hospital, and he wants me to be his best man at his wedding? Humans. No figuring them.”

“Hmm, maybe it’s the wolf in you he really likes.”

Devlyn shook his head, his hand caressing her belly, swelling with triplets. She sighed heavily against his chest.

A wolf’s howl in the distance brought a smile to her lips. “The Sinapu sure have made strides to reintroduce the gray wolf in the area.”

“Yeah. No worry about hunters shooting
lupus garous
anymore or trying to put a wolf into the zoo.”

“And even a few reds have been successfully reintroduced in the Smokies.”

Devlyn ran his fingers through her hair. “Right. Once the humans realized that the reds they set free weren’t wild enough and so were killing turkeys at local farms.”

“Good thing the government’s willing to reimburse farmers if wolves eat the farmer’s livestock.”

“Makes it easier for us to roam the area in our wolf states without arousing suspicion. But it sure was funnier than hell when Tanner got tagged as a successful reintroduction of one of the gray wolves. Nobody will let him live it down.”

Bella smiled. “I couldn’t be happier to be here with you like this, Devlyn, and with the pack again.”

He held her tighter. “To think Argos’s own mate had done the very same thing as you…distracted the pack leader so that Argos had a chance to win.”

She chuckled under her breath and slipped her fingers over his bare chest. “I wish he’d told us sooner.”

“Yeah, I would’ve had you help me out long before this. We’re a team, sweet Bella.”

“I agree. I’m glad Vernetta’s leg healed properly, too.”

“Did she tell you she had first dibs on taking care of the triplets?”

“Yeah.” Bella smiled. All of the females of a wolf pack helped raise the alpha female’s offspring. She couldn’t have been happier to be home again. She’d lost her own red
lupus garou
pack but found the gray pack and the mate who’d forever be hers. “I guess your cousins aren’t still sore at me for fighting them that day, although they’ve made themselves scarce whenever I’m around.”

“On the sly, they told me that, once they’d seen your reaction, they knew you were the alpha female, even
before Vernetta tried to take you down. Tanner said he was glad he didn’t have to deal with that quick temper of yours.”

“And you?”

“Spices life up just right.”

She gave him a serious look. “When the triplets are old enough, they’ll learn the true legend of how werewolves came into existence.”

He kissed her cheek and squeezed her good-naturedly. “Sure, Bella honey. The first was a Scandinavian white wolf. We still have Alfred’s book to prove it.”

She shook her head.

Another howl sounded from the wilds.

“He’s looking for a mate, don’t you think?”

Devlyn stood and lifted Bella from the swing. “Yeah, at least I’ve got mine.”

“I love you, Devlyn,” she murmured against his throat.

“No more than I do you. But for now, you have to earn your keep.”

She nipped at his chest.

He laughed. “Or maybe I should say, I have to earn mine.”

“Hmm.” She snuggled against his chest. “You better believe it. I want to take a run on the wild side. Think you’re up to it, stud?”

He growled. “I’m just the one to take you up on anything your heart desires, my little red wolf.” He buried his face in her curls. “Anything.”

Devlyn served as the alpha male, but Bella ruled his heart and soul…just as it was meant to be. She smiled. “Promises, promises.”

He chuckled, deeply rapturous. “Yeah, and you know how intent I can be on keeping my promises.”

“Yeah, makes me remember again why I selected you for my mate.”

He laughed and kissed her ear. “Demanding wench, but I aim to please you for the rest of our days.”

She ran her finger down his chest. “Good, because we still have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I’m sure we’ll never get caught up.” He shoved the door open with his hip. “But we have all of the time in the world to try.”

“Trying is all of the fun.” She grinned at him, as he laid her on the faux polar bear rug resting before the fireplace. Then she pulled the leather strap free from his hair. “My sinfully, seductive big gray wolf.”

He pulled off his jeans and knelt beside her. She reached out to touch him. Shaking his head, he grinned back at her. “Bad Bella.”

“Hmm-hmm.”

The End

I dedicate
Destiny of the Wolf
to the memory of my father, who believed with all his heart I’d be published, but died of a fast-spreading cancer before that day came. He was a true hero, who survived numerous near-death catastrophes—from a dwindling sandbar in the incoming rush of tidal waters of the Duwamish River when he was four, to a typhoon in the Persian Gulf, to a sunken sailboat in the shark-infested Sea of Japan, and many, many more such adventures—yet always maintained a wonderful sense of humor and lived life to its fullest.

W
HY
HAD
L
ARISSA
,
HER
LOVING
SISTER
,
ENDED
UP
DEAD
—here, of all the godforsaken places in the States? Maybe that was the reason—off the beaten path, surrounded by wilderness, a place to hide from the harsh realities of the forced marriage, safe from Bruin’s retaliation should he ever have located her. But she hadn’t been safe. And now she was dead.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lelandi Wildhaven thought she saw her cousin, Ural, slink into the woods in his wolf form, but she had to be mistaken. He wouldn’t be angry enough with her to shapeshift this close to Silver Town and risk alerting the gray
lupus garou
pack that a couple of reds had slipped into their territory.

Ignoring her gut instinct telling her this was a very bad idea, she pushed open the Silver Town Tavern’s heavy door, the squealing of the rusty hinges jarring her taut nerves.

Five bearded men sitting at a table turned to stare at her, and at once she feared the worst—they saw straight through her disguise.

She shoved the faux eyeglasses back into place, hating the way they kept sliding down the bridge of her nose. The weather-beaten cowboy hat she’d picked up at a resale shop half swallowed her head, making her look like a little kid wearing her dad’s Stetson.

Amber glass lights hanging from brass rods high above softly illuminated dark oak tables and a long,
polished bar. Slow-spinning wooden fan blades circulated the air, impregnated with the smell of gray
lupus garou.
Her nerve endings prickled with fresh awareness. Dingy antique mirrors covering the back wall behind the bar bore mute witness to the goings-on in the place, as she suspected they had for decades. If they had captured all the images of the bar’s existence what a story those mirrors could tell.

Another bearded man crouching beneath the lip of the bar suddenly stood to his full six-foot-four height. The glass and dish towel he held nearly slipped from his grasp as his appraising glance took in every inch of her. His lips turned up at the corners slightly. Deep laugh lines were etched in his tanned skin and shaggy black hair extended to his shoulders, giving him the appearance of a rugged mountain man, unused to civilized trappings. What disturbed her most was that he was a gray, like the men drinking at the table. She’d anticipated it would be a human-run establishment frequented by
lupus garous,
like the bar back home.

“What’ll you have, miss?” he asked, his voice warm and welcoming.

Expecting a chilly greeting—their kind didn’t welcome strangers venturing into their midst, especially if she were human and this was an exclusively gray
lupus garou
tavern—she hesitated.

“Miss?”

“Bottled water, please.” She’d meant to sound tough, to match the look of the place. She’d intended to be someone different, with her red hair dyed black and the high-heeled boots giving the impression she stood taller, more like
them.
The blue contacts she wore hid
her green eyes sufficiently, but she still felt like Lelandi, triplet to Larissa, with barely any visible difference in appearance, except her eyes were greener and her hair more red and less golden than her sister’s had been. Had her voice betrayed her?

The small smile on the bartender’s face was more likely because she was a stranger who’d walked into a wolves’ den without protection than because she’d given herself away. She cursed herself for not disguising her voice better, but the barkeep’s warm demeanor gave her a false sense of security, which could be the death of her if she wasn’t careful.

The bartender handed her a chilled bottle of water and tall green glass. “New in town?”

“Just passing through,” she said, paying for the water.

“Sam’s the name, miss. If you need anything, just holler.”

“Thanks.” Hollering for a drink was definitely not her style.

She chose a table in the farthermost corner of the room, half-hidden in shadows. Although any of them could see in the dark as well as she could, this location would keep her out of the main flow of traffic. She hoped she’d seem inconspicuous, not worthy of anyone’s scrutiny, and most of all, human.

Lelandi glanced at the door. According to her information, Darien Silver—Larissa’s widowed mate—should be here soon.

One of the men got up from his seat and gave Sam some cash. The man cast Lelandi a hint of a smile, then returned to his chair. Small for a gray, stocky, hair a bland brown, eyes amber, his clothes carrying a coating
of dust, he had a soft, round baby face. Looked sweet, a beta-wolf type. Smudges of dirt colored his cheeks, and he wiped them off with the back of his denim shirtsleeve. His eyes never straying from her, he smoothed out his raggedy hair and took another swig of his beer.

Sam joined Lelandi and handed her the cash. “Joe Kelly paid for your drink, miss. He works at the silver mine, which explains his slightly rough appearance. But he cleans up good.” Sam gave her a wink, and returned to the bar.

Should she turn down Joe’s offer? On the other hand, if he was interested in her, maybe she could discover the truth quicker.

“Thank you,” she mouthed to Joe Kelly and his chest swelled.

The other guys started ribbing him in low voices. The tips of Joe’s ears turned crimson.

Her stomach clenched with the notion that Larissa had had the audacity to mate with a gray, especially when she had a mate already. She’d said she wanted to find herself, and she did. Six feet under. Yet, Lelandi couldn’t help feeling it was her own fault, that if she’d taken Larissa’s place back home, or even run away with her, she might have kept her safe. But what about their parents? She couldn’t have left them behind—not with her dad so incapacitated—but hell, she hadn’t been able to protect them either. They had been murdered anyway.

She tamped down a shudder, hating that she hadn’t stopped any of it. But once she learned what had happened to Larissa and put the murderer in
his
grave, Lelandi was going to locate her brother and their uncle—damn both of them for leaving the family behind.

The barkeep clinked some glasses, his gaze taking her in like a crafty old wolf’s. He probably was on the younger side of middle age but due to the beard, he seemed older. The smile still percolated on his lips. Trying to figure her out? Or did he realize what a phony she was? Hunting in the wild was nothing new, but hunting like this…

She twisted the top off her bottled water and glanced down at her watch again. Only four twenty-five.

“Waiting for someone?” Sam asked, one dark brow cocked.

She shook her head. Her hat jiggled, her glasses slipped, and the annoying earrings danced
.

Two men appeared in front of one of the dingy tavern windows and then the door jerked open. Her heart skittered.

“Hey, Sam! Bring us a pitcher of beer,” one of them called.

About six-foot—as tall as her brother—with windswept shoulder-length dark hair and a newly started beard, his amber eyes hinted at cheerfulness and good-humor rang in his words. Both men wore leather jackets, plaid shirts, denims, cowboy hats, and boots, and they appeared to be twins. Multiple births abounded among
lupus garous,
so no surprise there. They looked like they were mid- to late-twenties and walked into the place like they owned the joint.

“Jake, Tom.” Sam glanced in her direction, alerting them to the presence of a stranger.

She stiffened her back and gripped her glass tighter.

Tom—his hair the lighter of the two, longer, curling around his broad shoulders, his face smooth as silk—fastened his gaze on her and raised his brows, tipped back his Stetson, and grinned.

Self-conscious, her whole body heated and alarm bells rang.
Keep a low profile!

Tom took a deep breath as if he were love-struck. “The place looks a might better tonight, Sam. Done some nice redecorating.”

The bearded one furrowed his dark brows. “Didn’t you tell her it’s a private club and no matter what,
that
table is reserved?”

“Bending the rules today. First come, first served.” Sam grinned and winked at Lelandi.

Damn.
Was this where Darien normally sat? She thought he’d sit in the center, so everyone could see their leader. That’s the way Bruin did it back home.

Now what? Move? To where? If she moved to the table across from Darien’s, she feared she’d draw too much attention. Not that she expected anyone to hurt her here, but she had thought she’d be able to keep a low profile. The tables situated on the other side of the bar sat in front of the restrooms. Anywhere else was too near the front door or in the middle of the floor, and no matter what, she wanted to have her back to the wall. She wasn’t leaving until she’d had a chance to observe the leader and as many of his pack members as she could, any one of whom might have murdered Larissa.

Tom grabbed the pitcher of beer and a glass. “Come on, Jake. Change is good for the soul.” He stalked over to the table opposite her and sat where he could see both the front door and, most of all, her.

Immersed in a goldfish bowl, she wondered what had made her think she could enter the wolves’ lair without arousing suspicion.

Jake sat with his back to the wall to have a better view of the door. If he wanted to look her over, he’d have to turn his head and be pretty obvious about it.
He did.
The expression on his face was dark and foreboding. Gone was the humor his features had held when he first walked into the place.

Laughing and boisterous, three more men barged into the tavern, glanced to where Jake and Tom sat, then shifted their attention to Lelandi. Which meant what? That Jake and Tom normally sat with Darien at the table where she was now sitting?

Terrific!

“Howdy, boys,” the older bearded man of the group said, nodding a greeting. The other two were nearly as old, gray streaking their brown beards, their gazes pinned on her. “Bring us the usual, Sam.” He turned to Jake and pointed his head at her. “
He
know about this?”

“Still giving orders at the factory, Mason,” Tom said.

The bearded man grumbled, “Fourth of July’s coming for a second time this year.”

Figuring she’d be better off sitting next to the restrooms to lessen the chance of creating
fireworks,
Lelandi grabbed her purse.

The door banged open again. The chatter died.

As soon as she saw him, she knew it was
him
—not only because silence instantly cloaked the room and every eye in the place watched Darien Silver’s reaction. His sable hair curled at the top edge of his collar. Brooding dark eyes, grim lips, features handsomely rugged, but definitely hard, defined him. Wearing a leather jacket, western shirt, jeans, and boots, everything was as black as his somber mood. He looked so much like Tom and
Jake, she figured they must be triplets, and he was the leader of the gray
lupus garou
in the area. Had to be, the way everyone watched him, waiting for the fireworks.

Something about him stirred her blood, something akin to recognition, yet she’d never seen him before in her life. It wasn’t his face, or clothes, or body that stimulated some deep memory—but the way he moved—commanding, powerful, with an effortless grace.

He glanced at the barkeep and gave a nod of greeting—sullen, silent, still in mourning for his mate? If he discovered why Lelandi was here, he’d be pissed.

A shiver trickled down her spine. She released her purse and kept her seat, for the moment. Everyone was acting so oddly, she imagined
that
was the reason he quickly surveyed the current seating arrangement. When his eyes lit on her, incredulity registered.

Crap!
He recognized her; she just knew it. Didn’t matter that she had dyed her hair this horrible color that didn’t do anything for her fair skin, or that her eyes were now blue. Didn’t matter that the heavy padded leather jacket gave her broader shoulders and made her appear heavier, or that she wore her hair straight as blades of uncut grass, compliments of a hair straightening iron, when her sister’s and hers was naturally curly. She couldn’t hide the shape of her face or eyes or mouth. All of them mirrored her sister’s looks.

Then again, his look was puzzled. The hat and glasses appeared to confuse him. Maybe the fact that she wore the faux pierced earrings that looked like the real thing did too.

She broke eye contact first, her skin sweaty, her hands trembling. God, he was more wolf than she was
used to dealing with—broader-shouldered and taller. His eyes locked onto hers with sinful determination, no backing down, no compromise. No wonder Larissa had fallen for the attention-grabbing gray. Lelandi couldn’t help wondering how a romp with a virile wolf like him would feel. But damn if it hadn’t gotten Larissa killed. Stick with your own kind, that’s what her father would have said. No humans,
lupus garou
only…the red variety.

Everyone remained deathly quiet—no one lifted a mug to take a sip of a drink, no one moved a muscle. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look at Darien, to see what he was doing now.

Still staring at her. She wanted to sink into the floor like mop water on a hot day. She gritted her teeth, lifted her glass of water, and took another swig, hoping she wouldn’t inadvertently choke on the icy drink out of nervousness. But she wasn’t leaving Silver Town until she avenged Larissa’s death.

Darien glanced at Sam, who shrugged a shoulder and handed him an empty glass. If Darien wanted her out of his chair,
he
would have to move her.

Macho gang leaders had to show they were in charge, particularly when it came to their territory, and no one, especially women, upstaged them. There were none more notorious for this than
lupus garous.
No one challenged them and got away with it, unless another
lupus garou
was trying to take over the pack, and won.

She wasn’t part of his pack. She wasn’t a male. And she wasn’t a gray. What’s worse, she looked like his dead mate. On the other hand, it appeared he wasn’t sure of what he was seeing.