Untamed Wolf (4 page)

“Absolutely.” Thomas’ grin was wicked, from inside the bar a bell rang followed by some groaning. “See? Kitchen’s closed early and he’s already taken Joanie home for some making up.”

Emma poked her mate in the side. “Well that’s our cue. Bad boy.”

He nipped her lip and gazed at her adoringly. “Only for you.”

Raising his hands, Dylan retreated so the mated pair could nuzzle and pet each other without an audience. “Thanks for the word of advice, Emma.”

“My pleasure. Come see us the next time you’re in town. I might make you a pie.”

That was worth a visit. “Definitely.” Retreating to his truck, he got the engine started and ignored the make out session going on as Emma teased her mate. With his palate cleansed by the cold air, he caught the hint of orchids still clinging to the front seat of his car. Frowning, he studied the seat, then the passenger floor. A bracelet glimmered on floor rug.

Retrieving it, he pressed it to his nose. Chrystal’s scent clung to every inch of the twisted metal. A few golden charms decorated the length—a pen, an easel, a palette, and half a broken heart with the letters ‘daug’ on it.

Huh
. It probably fell out when he’d driven her home. Setting it on the seat, he made a mental promise to return the bracelet the next time he saw her.

Based on recent experience, there would be a next time.

A
bandoning
the chair she’d occupied all afternoon, Chrystal set her sketchpad aside. She’d filled page after page, thanks to her photos. Some were terrible, blurred or simply out of focus, but the others came out exquisite in their detail. Unfortunately, her phone died. Her feet protested, spindling pins and needles up to her calves as she hobbled across the floor. The clock read after ten, so she’d been sitting in the chair longer than she thought.

The apartment she received the day she’d moved into Three Rivers boasted a full kitchen, a decent sized bathroom with an old fashioned tub—which she adored—and a bedroom nearly the same size as the living room. The best part of the apartment was the big, wide windows. All the natural light offered her the perfect place to create. Stretching her back, she padded into the kitchen. Her stomach growled. Not only had she forgotten to move most of the day, she forgot to eat.

“Eating is important to wolves,” she said aloud, a verbal reminder of the advice she’d received over the years. “Better to never let yourself get hungry.” Better still to be able to afford food on a regular basis. Opening the freezer, she grinned at the boxes upon boxes of potpies stacked inside.

Three Rivers provided her with more than apartment. She received an allowance until they could get businesses started and jobs sorted out. During her first grocery-shopping trip, she’d cleaned out the store of all the different potpies. She loved them. Grabbing two of the chicken boxes, she got one set up in the microwave and left it to cook while she grabbed a shower.

Still limping by the time she reached the bathroom, she banged one foot against the floor while the water heated. Then the other. Her life was pretty good. She’d worked in all kinds of jobs over the years—from convenience stores to big box stores to restaurants. Some were fun, some sucked and all of them paid the bills. In the months since she’d joined the pack, the only crappy jobs she’d had to do were the ones she volunteered for—like painting the interiors on new buildings, cleaning out trash from those about to be renovated, and learning about fixing plumbing.

The showerhead spilled like rainfall, evidence of her plumbing training. She’d installed it herself. Hunger hurried her through the shower. Since she hadn’t ranged out of town since Dylan delivered her to the pack, she wasn’t that dirty. Washing and rinsing her hair took a couple of minutes, and she was already toweling off. After gathering her discarded clothes, she wandered into her bedroom and dropped all but the shirt into the dirty clothes.

The oversized black t-shirt hung nearly to her knees. The softness was why she chose it, not the owner. Or the fact she hadn’t taken it off since returning home. Maybe she liked the idea of wearing his shirt or maybe she just liked the shirt. Her wrist was bare, she’d lost her bracelet somewhere during her hike. Rubbing her skin, she sighed. Chances were she’d never see it again, but maybe it was time to break with the past.

Adding fresh panties, sweatpants and socks to her ensemble, she sighed at the warmth. Hot shower, no more pins and needles and a second beep from the microwave warning her it was time to eat.

She cooked the second potpie while she devoured the first. It sated her initial hunger, and she carried the second with her to her seat and stared at the sketches she’d managed. Two of the waterfall, three of a fallen tree over a frozen creek, and one of Dylan…

Well, only one which she liked of him. Something about his jaw didn’t work for her. She’d used magnification on the photos she’d snapped, but the angle was wrong. Nibbling her way through the second potpie, she flipped to her earlier attempts to sketch him.

She’d given him horns in the first one. Laughter bubbled through her. The eyes and cheeks were wrong, but the horns were funny. A knock at the door pulled her attention from the sketches and she swallowed her mirth. Going still, she stared at the door. No scent betrayed her visitor. Her wolf crouched—neither she nor her animal wanted to reveal their presence.

A second knock sounded, followed by, “Chrystal, it’s Rayne. It’s okay to open the door.”

Relief punctured the tension threading her muscles. She set her dinner aside and hurried over to release the deadbolt. The Alpha’s mate held a brown paper sack in his hand as though in offering. “Sorry,” she apologized immediately, barely meeting his eyes for a split second before dropping them. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“It’s all right. It’s late, and I’m an unexpected guest—
and
I’m not going to ask if I can come in or be pushy. I did want to drop these off.” He dangled the bag, the crumpling noise an invitation to take it. A sweet scent tickled her nostrils.

“Biscotti?” Despite having devoured two potpies in a row, the promise of sugar and delight left her stomach aching.

“Fresh batch.” He passed the bag over to her. It was heavier than it looked.

Daring to peek inside, she found over a dozen biscotti waiting for her. Oh, if she was conservative, she’d have sweets for a couple of weeks. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Rayne leaned against the doorjamb. The interior apartments of the old house meant she shared a hallway with only one other resident. Since she worked nights, Chrystal rarely saw her. She was also human, a huge plus in Chrystal’s book. Another human, who’d taken the upstairs apartment no longer lived in Three Rivers—she’d returned to Willow Bend.

Hugging the paper bag to her chest, Chrystal waited for whatever else Rayne needed. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. With a sigh, the wolf said, “I don’t want to yell at you. Let’s start there, shall we?”

“But I
am
in trouble?” How could she not be? Dylan had driven her straight to Luciana and Rayne’s, dropped her on the porch and left.

“No—and yes. More no than yes.” With a single finger, Rayne touched her chin and nudged her gaze upward. Expecting chastisement, she almost flinched. Still better to show no reaction than to freak out, so she tried to steady her breathing. Instead of anger or reproach, she found a rough sympathy in his eyes. “Definite more no than yes. Luciana wants to talk to you
when
you’re ready. She’s worried about you, and so am I. This isn’t the first time you’ve disobeyed the border order. We know we’re still establishing ourselves, but we need your trust, Chrystal.”

“I do trust you.”
Mostly.
His raised eyebrow said he’d scented the mistruth in her statement. With his finger bracing her chin, she couldn’t drop her head the way she wanted, so she settled for lowering her eyes to stare somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. “I mean, I’m not trying to be bad or break the rules. I’m not always used to the rules and when I go…when I go looking for good pictures and pretty scenes, I don’t look for the border or if I’m going to cross it. I’m looking at the places. I promise I’m not doing anything to do harm to Willow Bend or make trouble for you.”

“We know that.” The assurance left her swamped with relief. “So, tomorrow, I want you to come by when you’re ready and I’m going to program your phone with some GPS coordinates so it will tell you when you get to the border.”

Hope surged through her, and she glanced at his face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. We want you to be happy, but we do
need
you to follow the rules.” Oh, they’d come to the part where she was in trouble. “This is your third warning, Chrystal. It’s also the last one. We’re working hard here. If you can’t do better, there will be punishment. Luciana doesn’t want to banish you…”

Her stomach bottomed out and ice trickled through her veins. “I’ll do better. I
promise
.” She had no idea how she would keep the promise, but she would find a way. “I’ll use the GPS, and I won’t go out looking for new places.” The very idea crushed her soul.

“You can explore, kiddo, you just have to do it in Three Rivers. We’ve got a lot of territory. Would it help if I got someone to run you around and show it to you?”

The offer was kind, but it meant running around in isolated areas with someone she didn’t know. Was she even allowed to decline? “If you want me to.”

Rayne released her chin, and she edged back a half-step. “I won’t force it on you. None of us will.” The firmness and authority in his words soothed the trembling seizing her muscles. “Let’s get the GPS set up, and go from there.”

He’d offered a decision she could live with. “Thank you.” She hugged the paper bag a little tighter. “I’ll do better. You won’t have to talk to me again.”

When he didn’t say anything immediately, she dared another fleeting glance. He wore a troubled expression as he stared at her. “Come talk to Luciana when you’re ready. She’s on your side, and so am I.”

It meant more than he knew. She nodded. “I will.”

With those last words, he pivoted and left. She waited to hear the outer door open before closing and locking her apartment. Sagging against the closed door, she fished one of the biscotti out of the bag. If she broke the rules again, they would punish her. Rayne didn’t specify how.

Chewing the inside of her lip, she pushed away from the door and returned to the chair. Her drawing of Dylan and his mythical horns mocked her.

Sticking her tongue out at the image, she tore it out of the sketchbook and crumpled it into a tiny ball. She could keep her promise. No more wandering.

Maybe.

The last sketch of Dylan stared at her.

He wouldn’t believe her either.

A
C
/DC rocked on the speakers, and Dylan kept time with the drums on his steering wheel. A week since his leave and snowstorm after snowstorm seemed intent on blanketing their whole territory. He’d learned to drive in the snow, but he and his wolf would rather find some hills to sled than squint their way through another potential whiteout.

His last stop with Phoebe Danner completed the check of remote wolves in his part of the territory. His replacement on the border would already be on his way to the regional airport if he wanted to make a flight. If not, well, Dylan wouldn’t mind someone to play cards with when the next wave of thunder snow struck. The winter weather alert on his phone kept repeating as though he couldn’t see the steady snowfall coating the road in front of him.

Thirty minutes and he’d be at the cabin with a roaring fire, dinner and the excuse to take a long nap before he took a run. When the storm expended the effort to dump another foot of snow on them, it would be fresh, sweet powder and he could…a figure lurched out onto the road ahead. He tapped the brakes, turning into the spin he created and angling the truck. Fortunately, no one followed him on the road. The skid spun him once, but he managed to halt the truck inches from where the woman waved her arms.

She had the good sense to jump out of the way. After throwing the truck in park, he wrenched the door open and leapt out into the storm. “Are you all right?” The question demanded an answer before he tore into them for running into the road.

The wind threw her familiar citrus and orchid scent in his face.
Son of a bitch…
“Chrystal?”

Instead of running away—the sensible thing, considering she trespassed
again
—she lunged at him and clasped his arm. “Dylan, you have to come. They’re stuck and I can’t get them out.”

The wild sour note of her anxiety erased his fury. “Who and where?”

Her fingers dug into his arm. She pulled at him as she turned and dashed toward the edge of the road. Following her, Dylan caught her before she tumbled down the hill. About thirty feet below, the waterway had frosted with a heavy layer of ice, but wasn’t solid.

“There.” Voice nearly frantic, she pointed. A low whimper helped him pinpoint the animal. Front legs on the ice and surrounded by a downed branch, the rest of it was in the water. A lower whimper reached him and he picked out the pup stuck on the ice, one foot trapped in a crevice. “Help them, Dylan. Please. I’ve been trying, and she’s so upset and I can’t…”

Fuck.
“Come on,” he ordered, hauling her backward. He dragged her to the truck. “Get in and warm up.” Leaving her to do as she was told, he flipped open the tool box in bed of the truck. Dragging out some rope, he circled to the driver’s side. Chrystal shivered in the passenger seat, her walnut eyes wide and her pupils the size of saucers. Her panic either fed off the wild animal’s or it off hers. Either way, he couldn’t comfort her—yet—and save the animal at the same time. Wrenching the truck into reverse, he backed to the edge and waited for his tires to hit softer snow. Parking brake engaged, he turned the heat to full blast.

“Stay in the truck, Chrystal.”

“I can—” She began the argument, but they didn’t have time for it. His wolf surged and they pinned her with a look. With a shaky nod, she bit her lip and stopped arguing. Trusting her word, he left her in the truck, looped a rope around the trailer hitch and secured one end. After tying the second end around his waist, he slipped and slid his way down the snowy slope. The water’s edge was far closer than it appeared. The ice beneath his feet shifted.

A low growl punctuated the whimper. The mama spotted him near her pup and the little one grew more frantic. Working his way toward them in slow steady steps, he locked gazes with the mother and let her see his wolf in his eyes. The growling slowed, but she stopped baring teeth at him.

The cold water took its toll on her, but she hadn’t given up yet. “Good girl,” he complimented her. He reached her pup first. The little one snarled and whined in the same breath. Working his gloved hand into the icy spot where its leg was trapped, he ignored his precarious position to get the ice to chip. A creaking groan threatened and the ice sheet dipped and flooded with water. The pup let out a little yip of frustration and fear.

“I have you little one,” he soothed, breaking the chunk out. The pup skittered free and started to lunge for its mother. Catching the pup, he ignored scrabbling claws and teeth to toss the pup toward the snow. The baby barked, but stayed safely off the ice. “All right, mama,” he said, crawling on the ice toward the trapped she-wolf. “Let’s get you out of there.”

The ice creaked again and the chunk she clung to gave way. Dylan abandoned any pretense of safety and followed the wolf into the water. She sank—either her back legs were injured or she didn’t have the strength to stay afloat. Frigid water slammed into him like a brutal fist. Ignoring the gasping sensation as it soaked his clothes and seemed intent on adding an icy layer to his own hide, Dylan locked an arm around the wolf and dragged her to the surface.

His skin burned at the first blast of polar air. Jaw locked against chattering teeth, he used the rope to pull himself and the wolf back what was left of the ice shelf. Numb fingers made it hard to hold. Claws raked his chest, drawing a fresh layer of agony to his burning flesh. The rope jerked against his hand. Chrystal, against all orders, stood in the snow, both hands on the rope and hauling for all she was worth. Kicking his sluggish legs, he found the strength to shove the wolf onto the hard surface ahead of him.

The animal tried to get to her feet and toppled immediately. Half-dragging, half-hauling, he pulled himself onto the shelf next to her. One glove was lost to the river and the other froze to the rope. He ignored the torn skin as he fumbled to his feet.

“Get her pup,” he managed through hard shivering. Chrystal dropped the rope and scooped the little hellion up mid-bark. The mama tried to lunge to rescue her baby, but Dylan got his arms around her and lifted her to his chest. “I have you, mama,” he told her, command vibrating between the clacking of his teeth. “We’ll get you safe.”

Carrying her, he limped his way up the hill with Chrystal scrabbling ahead. Fortunately, she hadn’t followed him into the water. She got the backdoor of his truck open without him asking. Ignoring the supplies and duffel full of clean clothes. Dylan got the mama inside the heated truck, then plucked the pup from Chrystal and handed him over. Mama sagged on the seat, but found the strength to snarl at him with all her teeth showing.

“No,” he told the wolf, locking gazes. “You’re safe, but no biting. Understood?”

She fought to hold his gaze, then dipped her head to nuzzle her pup who crawled over her. One pup. Dylan’s heart hurt for the mother. Were there others out there?

“I didn’t see others.” Tears stained Chrystal’s voice. “I followed them for a short distance, trying to get a picture…it was only them. I don’t know if she lost the others.”

Satisfied mama and her pup were safe enough for the moment, Dylan closed the backdoor. His clothing seemed to be freezing to him, stiffening with every breath he took. “It’s okay, we got them.” He gave her a quick hug, shocked when she didn’t flinch away. Still, he was drenched and he didn’t want to freeze her, too. Releasing her, he gave her a nudge to the truck. “Back inside.”

Once Chrystal was safely in the front seat, he freed the sodden rope. It chipped at his clothing, trying to adhere to the ice. Freeing the other end from the trailer hitch, he tossed the whole length into the bed before returning to the driver’s side. The hot air scalded his sensitive skin, but he rubbed his hands lightly, squeezing them. He needed feeling in his fingertips.

Shivering, she held her reddened hands near one of the vents. Covering her hands with his, he tugged them away and began to squeeze them as gently as he could manage. The effort would help both of them “Ow,” she complained once.

“It will hurt less than frostbite.” He attributed the roughened note in his voice to the cold. The growling behind them ceased, and he found the mama cleaning her pup slowly, but deliberately as the baby latched on to nurse.

“Thank you.” Chrystal’s whisper pulled his attention to her. The bluish tinge to her lips and the frost on her cheeks chastised him. He needed to get her somewhere warm and out of the frozen clothes.

“My pleasure,” he said, meaning it. “Buckle in. We’ll be at the cabin soon and we’ll get them settled and you taken care of.”

Though he was suddenly reluctant to release her, he did and got the truck in gear. It took some doing, but he got them back onto the empty road. Thankfully, no one came along while they fought in the snow and ice. No one around to witness their actions or to run into the truck. His boot squelched when he applied the accelerator.

The scents of wet animal, exhaustion and worry nibbled at him while he drove. The heavy snowfall the weather service kept warning was coming continued to fall. The crunch of it beneath his tires punctuated the silence. Four-wheel drive offered him a lot of capabilities as he followed the turn toward the campgrounds—as long as they stayed on snow and not ice. The chains on his tires would help, but he didn’t want an argument with his passengers involved.

“Dylan?” The low, almost desperate note in her voice pulled at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know—I’m not supposed to be here. I know I am trespassing, but…will you please not tell them about it this time? I didn’t mean to. I know I always say that, but I really…I’ll get in trouble this time.” The last words were so soft, he had to strain to catch them. “They said I’d get punished.”

Common sense warred with compassion. The pragmatic Hunter in him understood—as uncomfortable as punishment might be, wolves needed to obey the rules. Trust bonded a pack together and served as a vital component to protect the safety of all. The understanding of a punishment to fit the crime also offered a measure of justice, and kept younger wolves from making stupid mistakes. The cold, ice kissed girl in his passenger seat risked her safety to protect the wolves, risked judgment to flag him down on the road.

It was entirely possible she had no idea who she asked for help from before she ran into the road. Yet, she’d done it anyway—to save the wolves. Her courage did her credit, even if the threat of punishment hadn’t deterred her actions. Maybe keeping her secret was a kindness, but it wouldn’t do her any favors.

What a crap position to be in. “Why did you do it?”

“Save the wolves?” Shock rippled through her question.

“No,” he said, then blew out a breath before trying to gentle his tone. Whatever the hell was up with the Chrystal, she needed a soft touch. “I get why you saved them…and I’m really proud of you.”

“But you were the one who saved them. I couldn’t get near them.” Her protest didn’t further his cause.

Fighting for patience, he managed not to roll his eyes. But only just. “And I wouldn’t have known they needed saving if you hadn’t charged out in front of my truck.”

“Oh.” Her sudden smile lit up her gentle beauty. “I guess I did do that.”

“Yes, you did.” Unable to resist her cheer, he grinned. “What I’m asking you about is why you do keep trespassing if you know you’re going to get in trouble?”

Not answering immediately, she gnawed at her chapped lower lip until a bit of skin began to peel. He had to flex his grip on the steering wheel to keep from pressing his thumb to the injury she seemed intent on creating. Though his question elicited fresh unease from her, the sour notes of her earlier panic were absent.

“I don’t know,” she answered finally as he slowed the truck to navigate the long dirt road toward his cabin. The dense profusion of trees blocked his view while the thick snow on the ground made for a bouncy ride. “I’m sure that’s not the answer anyone wants to hear, especially from some
stray
.”

The emphasis on the last word dragged his attention toward her again. A tiny frown knitted her brows together and her knuckles whitened. “Okay.” Maybe he should leave it alone and let her Alpha deal with her. The sane choice. The reasonable decision. “You do know you aren’t some mutt on the side of the road, right? Today’s actions aside.”

A shrug was her only response. Well, all right, then. Shaking his head, he experienced a twinge of relief as the cabin came into view. No smoke puffed from the chimney, but he’d take care of a fire as soon as he got his passengers inside. Chrystal stared out the window, a hint of misery coating her.

Clamping his jaw shut on the offer to keep their
secret
, he parked the truck before getting out to fetch the mama and her pup. Frankly, he’d rather face a fresh injury than see the sadness in Chrystal’s eyes.
Protecting her isn’t my job, nor is keeping her secrets.
The litany didn’t help. Turning her in might be the best thing for her—so why didn’t he want to do it?

A
shower helped more
than she imagined. Despite the warmth in the vehicle—and Dylan’s electric touch when he’d rubbed her hands—she’d still shivered even after he built a fire in the front room. He’d given her a nudge and a handful of clean clothes then sent her to wash. Why hadn’t he simply called to send her home again?

Because of the wolves, dummy.
If they didn’t have the wolves, he probably would have driven her all the way to Three Rivers and dumped her on Luciana’s doorstep, and then she would have really been in trouble.
Of course, if I hadn’t followed the wolf, I wouldn’t have needed to flag him down.
She’d managed almost a whole week, concentrating on painting new homes and taking cooking lessons when she wasn’t working on her art.

Toweling off, Chrystal stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still red and chapped from the cold wind. Her fingers were coated with cuts. The heated water warmed her all the way to the core, though. A whole week of not
wandering
, mostly because of the repeated snowstorms. If not for the sudden respite earlier in the day and her antsyness, she’d still be home.