Wild Love (Wilding Pack Wolves 2) - New Adult Paranormal Romance (14 page)

Noah shifted just his hands and let his claws come out, revealing the foot-long knives that he knew Owen possessed as well.

Owen whistled. “Between that and the extreme healing, it almost makes the year I was in the cages worthwhile.” He folded his arms and leaned back against his desk.

“Yeah, well, I’d still prefer it hadn’t happened.” Noah grimaced. “Plus, there’s more. At least, there’s more to this for me. I think. That’s what I came to ask you about. Have you had any other… 
abilities…
that came with being a white wolf?”

Owen’s eyes narrowed. “How do you mean?”

“Any magical abilities that maybe go beyond the standard blood magic for shifters?” Noah swallowed. He’d never told anyone about this part. About what he could
do.

“Can’t say as I have,” Owen said carefully. “Although I haven’t exactly pushed it, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.” Noah had spent considerable time getting his beast under control after he was released from the cages. He watched Owen go through it as well. And it wasn’t like Noah was
eager
to push his white wolf to its limits… it had just sort of happened. “But you aren’t the only white wolf I know.”

Owen frowned. “Well, there’s Grace Krepky.”

Noah nodded. She was mated to Jared River, one of the three brothers who ran Riverwise. These days, she was running for Congress, one of the events that had tipped the hate group into high gear and had them targeting the Wilding and River packs, and now expanding their sights even further to other wolves through WildLove.

“But apparently Grace has been a white wolf all her life,” Noah said. “I hear she has the rapid healing, but not the claws. Then there’s you and me, turned into white wolves by the experiments with the complete set—healing and claws both. But there’s someone else. Someone in my family.”

“Daniel?” Owen asked, both eyebrows hiked up again.

“Not as far as I know.” Then again, Noah hadn’t told his brother about
his
white wolf, either, so maybe they both had secrets. “But maybe. Turns out the secret Wilding family shame is that one of our grandfathers was a white wolf.”

“Shame?” Owen gave him a skeptical look. “Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing to be ashamed of, necessarily.”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Noah gritted his teeth but just forced it out. “Turns out my white wolf grandfather wasn’t really a wolf at all. More of a male witch.”

Owen straightened and unfolded his arms. “You don’t say.”

“Yeah, and now…” Noah grimaced.

“Now you think you’re following in the old man’s steps.” Owen rubbed his face. “Shit, Noah, how does that even work?”

Noah lifted his hands. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”

Owen scowled. “You never did tell me what happened in Afghanistan. And I’m not buying that story about your medical discharge being for PTSD. I’ve seen grunts that have it. You don’t.”

Noah shook his head. “No, I just convinced the psych staff that I needed out. Considering the experiments, they didn’t argue.”

“So, what really brought you back home?”

“I just couldn’t take the risk of being there anymore.” Noah took a breath and rushed out the story. “I was on patrol, clearing out bad guys from a part of the city that’d already taken artillery. Going door-to-door. It was completely emptied out, but you know, we have to make sure. So we split up to cover more ground, and I was on my own when I stumbled on a pack of them. Five altogether. They jumped me, shot the hell out of me, and if it weren’t for the superhealing, that would have been it. Instead… I killed every last one of them.”

Owen was listening to him intently. “So you fought back when you should have been dead. That doesn’t make you a witch, Noah.”

“No, but turning them all into piles of ash does.”

Owen’s eyes went wide. “Well… that’s something.”

“Yeah. The strange thing is that I didn’t even touch them. I just somehow
felt
where they were and… lashed out.”

“Could you do it again?” Owen was looking at him with a mix of horror and fascination.

“Haven’t exactly wanted to try.” Noah rubbed both hands on his temples. “Look, I can’t tell anyone about this. I mean, I
was
a wolf, for fuck’s sake. I grew up a wolf. Even now, my beast form is definitely a white wolf. I just… have these other abilities…”

“But they only showed up after the cages?” Owen asked.

“All of it was after the experiments. They triggered something inside me. That’s why I was wondering if you’ve had anything happen, anything that might make you suspect…”

But Owen was already shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. My white wolf is powerful, don’t get me wrong, but he’s all wolf.” He peered at Noah. “Sounds like you’re some kind of hybrid—witch and wolf—although I’ll be damned if I even know what that means.”

Noah nodded, shoulders dropping. He was afraid that’s exactly what it was.

“I’m no fan of witches in general, but there are a few good ones out there,” Owen said quietly. “This doesn’t have to be something you’re ashamed of. You are who you are, Noah. And from where I stand, what you are is a wolf I’d have at my back any day of the week.”

Noah gave him a wry smile. “Thanks. But it’s more complicated than that. There’s this girl, Emily…”

Owen smirked. “They do tend to complicate things.”

“Yeah, well, this one isn’t even a wolf.” Noah sighed. “And I think I’m falling for her.”

The smile fled from Owen’s face. “Well, that’s a different story.”

“She loves wolves. She thinks
I’m
a wolf. Which I
am.”
Noah sighed. “Who am I kidding? I don’t know what the hell I am.”

Owen eased away from the desk and took a couple steps toward him. “Look, you helped me see my way straight to fighting for Nova,” he said, his hand landing on Noah’s shoulder. “So I’m going to return the favor. If this girl is the one, don’t let the fact that she’s human and you’re… whatever you are… stop you. If I’ve learned one thing about finding the mate you’re supposed to be with, it’s that it’s rarely convenient. But it’s always worth the trouble.
Always.”

Noah frowned. Those were the words he wanted to hear, but at the same time, this was a completely unknown thing. It would have been complicated enough, if he were merely a wolf—the mating would be one-sided, but at least it had been done before. This thing of crossing a half-wolf-half-witch-whatever-the-hell-he-was with a human?

“What about pups? Or kids?” Noah asked. “I’m not even sure what to call them.”

Owen smiled. “Cross that road when you get there, my friend.”

Noah swallowed. “Right.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. Still no text from Emily. “Look, I should let you get back to your mate for whatever sex date you have planned for her office.”

Owen’s smile grew into a smirk. “And you need to go after that girl—the one you don’t think will have you.”

Noah gave a small huff of a laugh, but Owen was dead-on. Emily loved wolves, but what would she think if she knew the truth about him?

All he knew was that he was already missing her like a piece of him had marched out of his body and walked away. But he could play it cool, just check in on her at her office, see where she was with this whole thing between them last night. Maybe she was just looking for a one-night thing. Maybe that’s all she needed from him to heal her past.

He’d simply be cool about it and find out.

Right.

He hurried so fast to the elevator, he almost forgot to wave goodbye to Owen.

Emily drummed her nails on the counter as she waited for the Keurig to brew her coffee.

She’d cleared out early and left Noah sleeping, curled up cutely in his bed. Eyes closed, face peaceful. Shock of brown hair all mussed from their lovemaking. It had been hard to wrench herself out of his warm embrace, much less manage to sneak out without waking him, but it was better this way. Easier for him to make the clean break she knew was coming. One-time, no attachments. Back to work like it hadn’t happened. It would be easier for both of them.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself all the way in to the office.

She’d sent a text so he wouldn’t worry. Not that he would worry. Not that he would wake up with the pleasantly-sore feeling she had between her legs 
with every small movement of her body 
that reminded her of the passion-filled night they’d shared. No, he would probably just wake up, see the text, and go about his day. Maybe head back to Riverwise. Possibly call her later. Only she said she’d call him. But it was too soon, so she couldn’t. He wasn’t up yet. But she wanted to. Just to hear his voice.

God, she was a mess with this.

The Keurig finally finished spitting out her coffee, so she grabbed her
Coffee Is My Boyfriend
mug and inhaled the steam like it was the answer to all her problems. The irony wasn’t lost on her that she’d run away from the amazing man she’d slept with—both literally and figuratively—only to return to her normal routine where coffee was the most stimulating thing in her life.

I’m not running away,
she told herself.
I’m giving Noah room to leave.

As she strode back to her desk, the ache between her legs wasn’t buying any of that bullshit. Her body had barely been able to handle Noah’s expert lovemaking, but it was already ready for more, soreness notwithstanding. And her heart already had a Noah-shaped hole in it. It was only her mind that knew running back to Noah Wilding’s bed would be nothing but heartbreak for all of them.

She would always treasure the night they had together… and she would just have to stuff the part of her that wanted more than one night in a drawer somewhere and throw away the key.

Emily plopped down into her chair and studied her screen. She hadn’t even managed to log in yet. It was ridiculously early, so no one else was in. No one to catch her sobbing at her desk, if it came to that. She set down her mug, shoved her keyboard to the side, and laid her head down on her folded arms. How could she actually focus on work when her head was still filled with thoughts of Noah?

“Hard night?” a male voice asked.

She jumped clean into the air, literally falling out of her seat. A gasp of air leaped out of her, and she barely caught herself on the edge of the desk to keep from going down completely. As she struggled back into her chair, which was sliding around on the wheels, she managed to look up and see who had startled her so badly.

It was one of the cleaning staff. The building owners had a service that came in off-hours. The guy was a medium-sized man, older than her twenty-one years—maybe thirty?—and he was grinning at her as if catching office workers in the dead of morning was some kind of prank he liked to play.

“You scared the crap out of me…” She peered at his name tag. “…Richard.” She’d never seen him before. Usually the cleaning staff was comprised of short Polish women, but that was the night-time crew. She was never in this early.

“Sorry, Ms. Jones,” he said with a smirk that brought wrinkles to the corners of his eyes. He didn’t look sorry at all. “Thought you might need some help.” His eyes were dark, and they flicked a look at her screen. “You all right here?”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said. “Except for that small heart attack just now.”

His eyes sparkled. “Come in early to work, did you?”

“I’ve got some things to catch up on.” Awfully nosy for the maintenance staff. She wondered briefly where his equipment was… no vacuum or other supplies were immediately obvious.

“Well, I won’t keep you from it.” He gave her a long look—too long, like he was looking for something, then he turned away and shuffled down the cubicle row.

Strange.

Emily grabbed her mug, took a sip, then set it down again. She had to get her head in the game. The bomber had escaped last night, and he was obviously on to them now. They needed some kind of strategy to flush him out again… a way to trap him that he wouldn’t expect…

She logged in and brought up the WildLove database, poking around the archives of her message chats with Noah. But that just made her heart ache, along with the sweet ache of her body, and totally messed up her head again. She sighed, closed out the chat, and pulled up another part of the code for WildLove. There had to be some way to track this guy down. Riverwise would run his description and maybe the plates from the car, if they had them, and that might ferret the guy out. But Emily had his digital signature in here, somehow, if she could just suss it from the data. She’d captured the real-time feeds during their secure chat. That was where she should start. Somehow he’d gotten in—Emily would just have to keep at it until she figured out how.

She dove in, tapping at her keyboard, bringing up screen after screen of code and data. She was so immersed in what she was doing, she didn’t hear the maintenance guy until he was nearly at the open door of her cubicle again. His heavy boots gave him away just as he arrived, swishing rough along the office’s trim carpet. She looked up from her keyboard right as he swung into her cubicle, holding the wall with one hand and a dusting rag with the other. He must have been cleaning something because he had gloves on now.