Wolf Claim (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 3) (3 page)

Adroitly avoiding the traps laid by the teenagers for each other, she shoved her hands into her pockets. Maybe what she needed was more responsibility. She’d been training at Emma’s side since her talent had been discovered when she was six years old. Nurturing healers were rare, even in a pack of more than a thousand, so she’d always felt privileged that her gift brought her notice.

As she’d grown older, she understood the responsibility wound firmly amidst the privilege. Soon it became her privilege to serve others. Emma once said healing was more than a talent, it was a drive, a call, and a lust no true healer could ignore. Disease and injury were their prey, and they could never rest as long as they were called to hunt.

The sober, serious advice sounded melodramatic the first time she’d heard it, yet in the last two years, she’d truly begun to comprehend her talent, her ability and her unflinching need to take care of others.

First with Mason’s mate, Alexis—caring for her during the brutal months of her pregnancy, as her body wavered between human and wolf, and nearly losing her had been an eye opening experience. Later, A.J.’s jagged return and his soul deep injuries woke another aspect of her gift. Through it all, she’d relied on Emma’s tutelage, but she grasped her true calling now.

Every life, every heartbeat within the pack, called to her. Like their Alpha, the healers were at the center, but they were drawn to those who needed them most. For the majority of the pack, they had Emma. Gillian wasn’t needed in the same way, not yet. Not for years, hopefully, because the day they needed her in that manner would be the day she’d buried her mentor and second mother.

 
And I need to sleep because I’m depressing myself.

Ahead of her, streetlights peeked through the trees and a rustle of fabric against bark told her she wasn’t alone. Canting her head, her nostrils flared. She expected the scents of leaves, grass, and damp earth, all native to the greenbelt. The breeze shifted slightly and Gillian grinned. Teenage boy was a damn hard scent to disguise, though he’d done an admirable job of staying downwind until the wind stopped cooperating.

“Dammit.” Kyle Huston’s voice warbled out of the darkness, rocking between a deep masculine tone and the higher pitch of his youth. What surprised her, however, was the direction his voice traveled from.

Retreating a step or two, she looked up. Her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, but she blinked once, then twice and let her wolf peek out. The animal could see between the inky shadows better than the woman. Sure enough, straddling a branch ten feet overhead, sat a sullen Kyle. Hands on her hips, she raised her eyebrows. “What are you doing up there?” Of all the places he could stalk her from, the trees hadn’t occurred to her.

With a careless shrug, he swung over the branch and dropped. Knowing the ten-foot drop was nothing for him didn’t stop her involuntary wince. “Lexi’s right, nobody ever looks up.”

Letting her amusement at his vague petulance pull her away from darker thoughts, Gillian smiled. “You’re getting sneakier as you get older, Kyle.” At fourteen, he vacillated between boy and young man.

“You think so?” Delight curved the corners of his mouth, erasing his dejected expression. The perfect combination of his mother and father, Kyle Huston possessed all of Ryan’s steely charm with his mother’s cocoa skin and handsome looks. His easy affection though, that was all Kyle.

Charmed, she ruffled his silky hair and let her smile widen. “I do.” Like so many men in the pack, he’d be taller than her and had already begun to outstrip her in height. Despite the darkness, he couldn’t hide the duck of his head or his faint embarrassment at her touch. Understanding his awkwardness, she didn’t press his discomfort. “I’m surprised you’re out roaming. I’d have thought you’d be with your mother while Ryan was at the council meeting.”

Like most wolves, the Huston males took protecting their female family members seriously. “Mom and Alexis went with Vivian and Mrs. Buckley shopping.”

“I see,” she said.
Or at least I’m beginning to.
Ryan Huston wouldn’t have left his son with no direction. Dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, she raised her brows. “So, where are you
supposed
to be?”

“Nowhere important…” His gaze slid sideways and his scent turned worried. Letting little lies pass was sometimes considered a courtesy, particularly to juvenile wolves. Still, Kyle was old enough to know better.

But she commented only with a quiet, “Hmmm.”

“You shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.” From defense to offense, yes, he’d learned well.

“Well, I’m not alone am I?” Since she could effectively deal with both issues at once, she clasped her hands together. “Would you care to escort me?”
Come along little wolf, take the bait.
 

He closed his jaws around the offer with zeal, eagerness overcoming sense. “It would be my honor,” he declared with a touch of dramatic flair. “Where are you headed?”

“To Mason’s.” She smiled. Caught, he almost sighed as realization crystalized in his gaze. He’d already agreed to escort her to where his father would be. The only way to escape would be to back out of his escort, and his pride would never allow for such a choice.

“You know, Gillian…” With good-natured grace, he offered his arm. “You’re pretty clever, too.”

“Thank you. That’s high praise coming from you.” She settled her hand on the crook of his arm, and he set a gentle pace that she easily matched.

“You’re welcome.” Though he grumbled, because teenagers really didn’t like to be shanghaied into anything.

Squeezing his arm, she decided to offer a little sympathy to smooth over his stung pride. “So, what were you up to before you so gallantly came to my rescue?” As she had earlier, Kyle neatly avoided the next trap. The juveniles really had littered the woods with their stink bombs and slap trees. Some poor unsuspecting wolves were going to get a rude awakening.

She’d mention it to one of the hunters. Getting kids into trouble wasn’t her favorite activity, but the trap they’d just past could actually hit eyes and do some serious damage.

“I’m supposed to be training with Dylan. All he had me doing was running circuits. Boring.” The exaggerated emphasis on the last word nearly earned him another smile.

Dylan Royce was a Hunter, like Owen. He spent more time on the other side of the state than near the pack center, but he’d moved closer to home after Mason’s ascension. “I’m sure he’s a very good teacher. You may not understand why he wanted you to run, but I will let you in on a little secret. Our mentors and teachers challenge us with tasks we need to learn whether we understand them or not.”

“Yeah, well, if he’s so good, how come he hasn’t noticed I’m not there yet?”

Before she could respond a shadow detached itself from the edge of the wooded area. So firmly downwind she hadn’t scented him at all, Gillian couldn’t stop herself from jerking to a halt as her wolf went on point. Healer or not, Kyle was still a juvenile and she would protect him against any threat. Her startlement relaxed as soon as she caught his scent.

“Who says he didn’t?” Dylan’s voice preceded him as he stepped forward. Tall, and leanly built, nothing about Dylan seemed spare. Tight, compact muscles almost rippled when he moved and his steps were silent. Like so many within the pack, he came from mixed ancestry, but the faint tilt to his green eyes were purely those of his grandmother Miko.

“Fuck.” Kyle had gone rigid with shock. One moment he was next to her, the next Dylan had him against a tree, one hand locked around his throat. Gillian took a step toward them, but even she could read the grip. Dylan wasn’t hurting Kyle.

“Mind your mouth and your manners, boy.” The low vibration of a growl underscored his words and he held Kyle still until the rebellious teen lifted his chin, a tacit surrender.

“I’m sorry, Gillian,” the chastised teen said. “I know better.”

Releasing him, Dylan straightened and clasped a hand on his shoulder. Tempering discipline with camaraderie would soothe a fragile ego. “Good man. There’s a time and a place for harsh language and actions, but never in front of such a lovely lady.”

If he’d attempted to lay a line on so thick at any other time, she would have rolled her eyes and burst out laughing. However she didn’t want to undermine his efforts with Kyle, so she simply inclined her head and accepted the compliment. “Kyle was escorting me to Mason’s. He didn’t want me wandering through the wilds on my own.”

The corner of Dylan’s mouth kicked higher, and his eyes went wolfish. “I will definitely give him credit for good choices.” Another friendly squeeze and he released the younger man only to turn and offer his hand to her. “Now, my lovely lady wolf, you have two escorts eager to see you safely delivered to our Alpha.”

This time, she rolled her eyes. “Stop flirting, Dylan. You’re embarrassing Kyle.”
And me.
Though, the appreciation in his gaze as he swept it over her did wonders for her battered ego. It didn’t hurt that he was a handsome wolf with darkly bronzed skin, an easy smile, and a charming temperament without an ounce of the rebuff she’d experienced from another, far more prickly Hunter.

“Consider it an invitation.” Dylan smoothly captured her hand and lifting it to his lips. The warmth of his breath puffing across her skin caused a ripple of laughter, not desire, to curl through her.

“Oh, ugh.” Kyle made a face and turned away. “How about we just get Gillian where she wants to go?”

Biting her lip, she met Dylan’s gaze. Fresh humor glinted in the green-gold depth of his wolf’s eyes. “Absolutely, but I think the fair lady should reward her rescuers with a kiss.”

“Hmm.” She lost the battle against laughter and shook her head. “You’re right. I should reward my
rescuer
with a kiss.” Releasing Dylan, she brushed past him and pressed a kiss to Kyle’s cheek. His eyes went wide and his scent grew turbulent with his embarrassment, but beneath the wild tickle of it all was a spark of surprised joy. After winking, she swung back to face Dylan. “Reward delivered, shall we go?”

“Touché, lady wolf. Touché.” He touched a hand to his heart before offering his arm. The offer was natural and she didn’t mind accepting it, but the promise of the hunt lurked in his manner and tone.

Warning skated over her nerves. She could reject the provocation in his offer, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to. At the same time, he wasn’t the wolf she wanted to look at her that way.
The wolf I want doesn’t want me, so maybe I shouldn’t reject such a handsome offer.
She liked Dylan. He was funny, charming, and protective—maybe she simply needed time to know him.

Curling her fingers toward Kyle, she resisted a direct answer by taking both of their arms. Dylan’s teeth flashed in another quick smile. Chances were he didn’t miss a nuance of her scent, how could he when he stood this close? But she chose to play dumb because it was easier. Apparently, he was willing to allow her the courtesy by not calling her on it. Arm in arm, she walked with the pair as they left the woods and followed the dip of land toward the street where their Alpha lived.

With the house in sight, she let herself relax. She really was tired and while the play had invigorated her, the sooner she delivered her news the better. Dylan rocked to a halt and caught her arm, jerking her and Kyle to a stop.

Before she could ask him what was wrong, two scents hit her at the same time.

Owen.
Her heart did a somersault in her chest. On the heels of his deep, woodsy fragrance, their Alpha’s amber scent twined around them. Worry and fear assaulted her in the same breath because conflict darkened their aromas with an angry musk. No sooner had she registered their impending arrival than the two men were suddenly in front of them.

With a scorching look, Owen glared at her and at her hand on Dylan’s arm. Quiet fury radiated off of him. She flinched from the heat in his eyes, ducking her chin and half-stepping back. As if sensing her disquiet, Dylan shifted to stand in front of her, and she wanted to clutch at his shirt in gratitude.

A warm hand touched her back. Mason was there, and he tugged her in for a hug. She accepted it, turning her face away from the violence hovering around Owen. “Go ahead, take Gillian to the house.” Though their Alpha was angry, his voice gentle though his anger practically vibrated off him in a haze. He stroked a hand over her hair, as though telling her she was not the object of his disquiet. “Go on, little one, we’ll be back soon.”

The order resonated, so when Dylan reached for her, she let him take her arm. Only once they’d headed for the house did she dare to look at Owen. The earlier fury she’d glimpsed on his face had been replaced by utter remoteness. Jerking her attention forward, she fought the urge to kick herself.

Of course whatever is going on has nothing to do with me
. She’d reacted to the surge of masculine challenge around the men. Sighing, she tucked her chin down.

“It’s okay, lady wolf. Guys sometimes need to beat on each other. It’s how we work things out.” Dylan’s soothing words had the opposite effect on her concern. Yes, male wolves fought—as much in play as in anger—but nothing in Mason or Owen’s manner suggested play.

A fresh well of anxiety threatened to swallow her. Had Owen challenged their Alpha? Twisting away from Dylan, she turned to follow the men. She didn’t make it far, since Dylan caught her around the middle and lifted her right off her feet.

“No, darling, I can’t let you do that. Mason said we go to the house, so
we
go to the house.” He was right. She understood the order, and her wolf wanted to follow it, but the woman?

She wanted to make sure Owen was all right.

The hell with that, she wanted Owen, period.

“What if they fight?” She had to know.

“Then we definitely stay out of that, darling,” Dylan continued walking, carrying her with one arm around her waist and her back pressed firmly to his chest. “They’ll need you after.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.