Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 (2 page)

Her gaze flew to his. He was scowling at her. Not the expression of a man who was feeling either amorous or happy to see her. At least that hadn’t changed. He’d spent most of his life scowling at her. She wished she knew why, what it was about her that made him angry.

Not that it mattered. Not anymore. All she wanted was to be reunited with her brother. Armand was the only person who’d ever really loved her. She wanted to reconnect with him and to hopefully find some peace in her life, a place she belonged.

But if Gator’s greeting was any indication, she wouldn’t find much welcome here. So be it. She’d leave as soon as possible, but not without seeing Armand. She needed to talk with him, to explain why she’d done what she had. Maybe he’d understand, maybe he wouldn’t, but she had to try.

And he deserved to know the truth.

“I want to talk to Armand.” It was so tempting to climb back into her car and drive away. That would be cowardly and she’d been a coward long enough. She’d hidden until she’d known it was safe to come here.

She’d honestly been shocked to discover Armand and four others had broken away from the pack to form their own. It had given her hope that her beloved brother might find the happiness she’d never had. That was all she dared hope for from life. She had no dreams left for herself, but her brother was a different story altogether.

Gator prowled closer, a wolf on the hunt. In spite of her resolve to be brave, Sylvie began to get nervous. She knew all too well what a male werewolf was capable of when he was angry. And there was no doubt that Gator wasn’t exactly happy to see her.

The thin fabric of her blouse was sticking to her skin. The capri pants that had seemed so cool and stylish when she’d donned them this morning were now hot and confining.

Sylvie’s back hit the car when Gator shoved the door closed, cutting off her avenue of retreat. Then he placed both hands on the vehicle, caging her in. She could smell him. The mixture of hot male flesh, sunshine and earthy woods filled her nostrils. She swallowed heavily and tried to remember her meditation exercises, how to calm herself.

Impossible with him looming over her so big and handsome and menacing. He leaned inward, keeping all his weight on his hands. His naked chest got closer. His blue eyes darkened.

She opened her mouth to tell him to back off, but she felt a twinge in the region of her heart. Then the impossible happened. Her nipples tightened. The shock left her speechless.

After what she’d been through, after the hell she’d endured at the hands of her mate, Sylvie would have sworn on her life that she’d never feel arousal again. Her late husband had long ago beaten out of her every tender feeling toward men and sex.

Yet she was feeling it now, and for a man who obviously didn’t like her very much. Yes, he wanted her, but that was simple lust. She knew that when men had needs they didn’t have to care for a woman to fuck her.

Why was she feeling this now and for this man? She had to get away. Gator was dangerous to her peace of mind, the fragile stability she’d built for herself.

She ducked under his arm but he caught her before she could make her escape and shoved her back against the car. “You’re not going anywhere. Not this time.”

Fear ate at her. She hated the panic that filled her, but she’d long ago learned that while she was strong, she was no match for the fury of a male werewolf. She lowered her head and hunched her shoulders inward, hoping the submissive pose would negate some of his anger. Her wolf howled inside her, urging her to assert herself. Sylvie knew better.

Neither of them moved. The warm breeze caressed her bare arms, sending goose bumps over her skin. She was chilly in spite of the heat. The waiting was worse than whatever might come.

“Sylvie?” She could hear the confusion in Gator’s voice.

“What’s going on?”

She recognized the new voice and her heart almost stopped. Gator stepped away from her and she slowly raised her head. Her heart did stop when she saw her brother’s face and then started racing like a runaway train. Armand looked older. Hardened.

He stopped in his tracks and his face paled. “Sylvie?”

She managed a shaky smile, all the time very aware of Gator watching her every move. “Armand.” Her brother wasn’t alone. She recognized Cole Blanchard from the Louisiana Pack. She didn’t recognize the two women with them. One woman was tall and lean with shaggy black hair and gray eyes. The other woman was shorter and slender with long brown hair and blue eyes. Who were they?

Armand took one step forward. Then another. Before she realized his intent, he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her against him. She savored his embrace for two whole seconds before panic took over.

Sweat beaded on her skin. The air thinned and seemed to disappear. She was trapped against a hard male body. It didn’t matter that it belonged to her beloved brother and not the bastard she’d been mated to. It didn’t matter that she knew Armand would never hurt her. Terror consumed her and fear bled from her pores. She shoved against Armand. She had to get free.

“Sylvie?” He immediately released her, but she could see the confusion and growing hurt in his eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She wanted to apologize, to explain that it wasn’t him. That there was something broken inside her.

She gasped for air but couldn’t seem to get any into her lungs. Her throat constricted and she wrapped her hands around it. She was having a full-blown panic attack.

Not now
.
Not now
.

Then Gator was beside her, his hand lightly resting on her back. “Breathe, Sylvie. Breathe.” She tried but couldn’t manage more than a gasp. He caught her face in his hands. “Look at me,” he ordered.

She didn’t even think to disobey his command. She focused on his amazing blue eyes. They reminded her of a brilliant summer sky, so blue they were almost hard to look at.

“Breathe in.”

She sucked in a lungful of air.

“Breathe out.”

She let it go. Her heart began to slow as he encouraged her to do it again and again. She kept her gaze on Gator, allowing him to anchor her in the hell that threatened to consume her.

Finally, she became aware of the silence around her. She also became very aware of Gator’s hands on her face. They were rough and strong, but his touch was oh so gentle. The warmth of his skin seeped into hers.

What had she done? She’d ruined her reunion with Armand by having a stupid panic attack. She hated being weak. She’d come so far in her life, but moments like these showed her she had a long way to go.

She took a step away from Gator and looked at her brother. Worry creased Armand’s forehead and his eyes were dark with growing concern. She’d done that to him. “I’m sorry,” she began.

Gator cut her off before she could say any more. “We should take this inside and call Jacque. He’ll want to know about this.”

The alpha. Of course Jacque LaForge would need to know about her arrival. She might be his cousin, but that didn’t guarantee her a welcome. And if he didn’t want her here, there was no way she would be allowed to stay.

Armand slowly held out his hand to her. She swallowed hard and reached for it, grateful he was giving her a second chance. He gently closed his fingers around hers. “Come back to the house. We’ll talk there.”

Very aware of Gator behind her and the others watching, Sylvie followed Armand.

Travis Dubois slowly lowered his binoculars. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The bitch was alive. His brother’s mate, the one they’d all thought was dead, was very much alive. Hell, he’d heard Andre brag more than once about the night he’d killed her. The bastard had been proud of himself.

He’d barely refrained from murdering his fool brother for what he’d done. He’d coveted his brother’s wife, wanted her to the depths of his soul.

And now she was alive.

His gaze narrowed as he watched Gator’s eyes following her. That sonofabitch wanted her too. Well, he couldn’t have her. Travis had a second chance at getting what he wanted and he wasn’t about to fail. Not this time.

He had power behind him. He was the second of the Louisiana Pack, the prime assassin. No, this time he would have his reward.

He licked his lips in anticipation.

Sylvie was still as beautiful as ever. He’d spent many a night fantasizing about her naked on her knees in front of him sucking his cock, her long hair in his fist as he fucked her mouth.

His cock grew heavy. Oh yeah, he’d have her like that. And soon.

He pulled the phone out of his back pocket and hit the one number he had in his contacts list. Pierre answered on the first ring.

“Talk to me.”

“Sylvie is alive.” Travis knew by the deadly silence on the other end that he’d shocked his alpha.

“You’re sure.”

“Very. What do you want me to do?” Unspoken was the implication that Pierre had to do something about this deep betrayal. The woman had run out on her mate and pack. Had lied to them all.

“I need to think about this. Keep an eye on them all. I’ll get back to you.”

Pierre ended the call and Travis stuck his phone back into his pocket. He raised the binoculars and watched the group walk back to one of the houses. He was far enough away that they wouldn’t scent him and concealed well enough so they wouldn’t see him with the naked eye.

He hated not being closer, having to use binoculars, but there was no other choice. Those wolves never let down their guard, one or two of them always out patrolling the grounds. If he got too close, they’d smell him. And he needed the advantage. Wanted to remain hidden until it was time to attack.

He chuckled and moved through the woods, searching for a place he could hunker down for a short nap. Life was getting better every day. Not only would he have the opportunity to kill those fucking wolves who thought they were too good for the rest of them, but he was also going to claim his brother’s mate for his own.

Life didn’t get much better.

Chapter Two

Gator was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Sylvie was alive. He couldn’t imagine how Armand felt seeing his sister rise from the realm of the dead. Where had she been all these years? What had she been doing? And why was she here now? So many questions and only one person had the answers.

Cole caught his eye and raised one brow in a silent question. Gator shook his head. He knew no more than the rest of them did.

Gator tilted back his head and howled, knowing that would bring Jacque. And he wouldn’t come alone. Gwen, his mate, would be with him. And Louis wouldn’t be far behind. Louis wouldn’t allow his brother and Gwen to come if he thought there was a threat of any kind. The whole pack needed to be here for whatever explanation Sylvie was going to give them.

Gator found his gaze drifting back to Sylvie again and again and it pissed him off. He needed to start thinking with his head and not his dick. Why was she here now? His eyes narrowed. Had Pierre sent her to spy on them?

Even as he thought it, he dismissed the notion. Pierre would not trust a woman enough to give her such a job. The man was a throwback to the dark ages and believed a woman’s place was in the kitchen or the bedroom.

Their former alpha was an ass.

As though she felt him watching her, Sylvie glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes widened and she paled slightly before turning away.

She was afraid of him. And that just pissed him off. He’d never hurt a woman or anyone weaker in his life. Yes, he’d killed, but only in defense of his home and his friends, and only when attacked. He wasn’t ashamed of that.

Yet she looked at him as though he would erupt and go on a violent killing spree at any second.

“You need to get that scowl off your face,
mon ami
.” Cole walked alongside him while the women followed behind Armand and Sylvie. “Armand won’t like the way you’re looking at his sister.”

“And how am I looking at her?” Gator regretted his question almost at once. “
Non
.” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that.”

But Cole ignored him and answered anyway. “Like you want to eat her up and go back for seconds.”

His buddy did have a way with words, and damned if his wolf didn’t agree with Cole. The beast howled and pranced inside him, demanding release. Gator mentally wrestled his wolf back into submission. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally shift because he couldn’t control himself. That usually only happened to adolescent males and weak men. He was neither young nor weak.

Gator scrubbed his hand over his face and took a deep breath, knowing he had to get control of himself. No way Armand or the others wouldn’t notice his raging hard-on. Nothing like announcing to the entire pack he was horny and lusted after his buddy’s sister. Yeah, that would go over real well.

Cole said nothing more. Gator liked that about his friend. Cole said what he had to say and then moved on. He didn’t waste words.

He followed the others into their home and went straight to the kitchen to put on a fresh pot of coffee. His ears twitched as he listened to Armand settling his sister in one of the chairs by the stone fireplace.

The back door opened and Gwen entered, followed by Jacque and Louis. Jacque nodded and then headed straight for the living room. Gator followed them, unable to stay away from Sylvie any longer.

She was perched on the edge of the chair, unable to relax. He could see her tension. Smell her fear. He didn’t like it.

Sylvie stood the moment Jacque walked into the room and immediately lowered her gaze. Gator crossed his arms over his chest before he did some fool thing like go to her and wrap his arm around her for support.

“Sylvie.” Jacque’s voice was rough with emotion. Gator knew he’d mourned the loss of his cousin.

She raised her head and tried to smile, but it fell flat. “Hello, Jacque.”

He reached out and touched her face. Sylvie flinched slightly before holding steady. His chest ached for her. So fearful yet so brave.

Jacque turned to the tall blonde woman beside him. “This is Gwen.”

Gator knew Sylvie didn’t need anyone to tell her this was Jacque’s mate. There was so much pride, so much possessiveness in his tone. And his scent was all over the woman.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Gwen reached out and squeezed Sylvie’s hand.

“Sylvie.” Louis walked over to her and started to take her into his arms for a hug.

“Stop.” Armand grabbed Louis’s arm and pulled him away. “She doesn’t like to be touched.”

That concept was totally foreign to Gator, to all wolves. They were pack animals at heart, always touching in some small way, always connected. He couldn’t imagine being afraid of physical contact, even the simplest kind.

What had happened to her to make her this way?

Whatever it was, Gator knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

Seemingly baffled, Louis lowered his arms and stepped back.

“Sit down, Sylvie.” Armand indicated the chair and she sat.

Gator could see the fatigue that weighed down her entire body. Where had she come from? Where had she been all these years?

He had to know.

For the first time in years, Sylvie was among her own kind. She was surrounded by wolves. It made her both nervous and excited at once. At least Jacque hadn’t thrown her out for lying to him, to all of them, for so many years. That was one hurdle passed.

Yet she felt shamed by her inability to accept a hug from her cousin. “I’m sorry, Louis.” An apology wasn’t much, but it was all she had.

Louis crouched next to her and lightly pressed his hand against her knee. “It’s okay. You can always take a rain check.”

She nodded but felt relief when he removed his hand and stepped away. Sylvie didn’t know what to do next, so she concentrated on taking one breath and then another.

“I want you to meet my mate.”

Sylvie could only stare at Armand and the woman sitting next to him on a huge leather sofa, one of two that dominated the room.

“This is Anny,” Armand continued. “Anny, this is my sister, Sylvie.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Anny offered with a genuine smile.

Her brother was mated. Suddenly, Sylvie wanted to cry. She was happy for Armand but sad she’d missed so much of his life. “It’s nice to meet you too.” It sounded so polite when all Sylvie wanted to do was scream at the unfairness of her life. She took a deep breath to settle herself.

Cole took up a good chunk of the other sofa and had one arm resting over the shoulders of the woman next to him. “This is Cherise.” The way Cole said the woman’s name was like a caress. Sylvie felt a brief stab of jealousy when the woman nodded to her before smiling up at Cole. What must it be like to feel loved, to know your mate would protect you against all harm?

She didn’t know and probably never would.

Sylvie sensed everyone watching her but she felt one gaze more than the others. She glanced over to see Gator leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, which she found incredibly distracting.

Get a grip
. She’d come here for a reason and it was time to get to it. “I guess you’re all wondering why I’m here,” she began.

“What happened?” Armand’s quiet question almost broke her heart. She’d gone over this a million times in her head, practicing what she might say if she ever got this opportunity, but her mind was suddenly blank.

Start at the beginning
, she reminded herself.

“You all know I was mated to Andre Dubois.” Several low growls startled her. All the men were scowling and the women looked sad, almost pitying. She straightened her shoulders. She was done with being weak. It was time to remember all she’d been through these past years. What she’d done to survive.

“He was a mean bastard.” It felt good to say the words out loud. Cleansing. “I never wanted to mate him, but I wasn’t given a choice.” If it had been only her, she would have said no and lived with the consequences. But her father and Andre had threatened to kill Armand if she didn’t agree to the mating. That was a secret she’d carry to her grave, one she’d never let Armand know. If he discovered she’d mated Andre in order to protect him, it might destroy him.

Armand fingered the scars on his face, the ones he’d gotten in a fight with their father over the proposed mating. He’d almost died then, and Sylvie had done what she’d had to in order to protect her younger brother. She’d mated with the devil himself.

“Andre was a violent man and a greedy one.” No one knew that better than she did. “He also had a mistress, a woman who lived about a half-hour drive away. She wasn’t a werewolf but full human.” And that had been another slap to Sylvie’s confidence. But at that point, she’d just been relieved her mate wasn’t coming to her bed as often.

“I followed him one night.” To this day she still wasn’t quite sure why she’d done it. Curiosity, certainly, but something else had driven her that night.

Gator caught her attention when he pushed away from the wall and stalked over to stand in front of the stone fireplace only a few feet from her. His presence seemed to fill the room. She suddenly felt safer even though the only thing threatening her was memories from the past.

“What happened that night?” Jacque asked.

Sylvie could remember it as vividly as if it had happened only yesterday. “I watched him bang on her front door. She opened it but was angry with him about something.” She remembered the shock of first laying eyes on the other woman. “She looked a lot like me.”

She licked her dry lips and wished she had a glass of water, but she didn’t want to stop to ask for one. Now that she’d started to tell her tale, she wanted it done. “The woman screamed at Andre.” Sylvie shuddered. She remembered being stunned by the woman’s actions. Andre was not a man you yelled at, not without serious repercussions.

“I knew things wouldn’t end well.” No one argued with her mate and lived to tell about it.

“He tried to sweet talk the woman.” And that had shocked her to her core. She’d never heard such a cajoling tone from Andre before. “When she refused to let him into her home, he hit her.”

Sylvie’s hand automatically went to her cheek. She knew all too well what the back of his hand felt like against her face. Armand swore, jolting her back to the present. She dropped her hand back in her lap.

“What did he do next?” Jacque prompted.

“He beat her to death.” Sylvie remembered being frozen in place as she watched the brutal attack. Knowing she should do something but too afraid to move. “I didn’t do anything to help her.”

“Nothing you could have done.” Louis’s words were a balm to her wounded soul, but he was wrong.

“I hid. I watched him kill her.”

“And if you hadn’t, he’d have killed you too.” Louis raked his fingers through his hair, his frustration evident. “We thought he had killed you.”

“So did he.” The last came out before she could stop it.

Armand surged from the sofa and knelt at her feet. He took her hands in his. She was so cold. She’d been warmer earlier with the heat from the sun beaming down on her and the nearness of Gator’s body surrounding her. Here she was alone.

She glanced at Gator, but he was no longer in the room. Before disappointment could set in, he came back down a short hallway carrying a blanket. He shook it out and draped it over her shoulders. “You looked cold.” His voice was gruff but his actions were gentle. He was such a contradiction.

“Thank you.” She pulled the blanket around her and inhaled. It was his blanket and carried his scent. That little detail shouldn’t have comforted her as much as it did. She fought to keep from burying her face against the soft fabric. She paused and sniffed again. “You have cats,” she blurted out. It was unheard of for werewolves to keep cats as pets.

Armand chuckled. As impossible as it seemed, she’d almost forgotten her brother’s presence even though he was still kneeling at her feet. “They’re Anny’s cats. You’ll meet Tigger and Seymour later.”

“What happened next,
chère
?” Gator prompted.

She tried not to tremble, but the memories always caused her to shake. “I don’t know if I made a sound or if the wind shifted enough for him to scent me. Or maybe he knew I was there all along. I’ll never know.”

Terror had gripped her when Andre had turned away from the body of his dead mistress and smiled at her. “I ran.” She’d raced through the bayou as fast as she could, but he’d caught her. “He ran me to ground. We fought and he killed me.”

Armand made a sound of distress and she reached out and stroked his beloved face. “He thought he’d killed me. Almost did. He left me for dead on the edge of the swamp. He figured the smell of blood would bring the gators.”

Gator growled. “That bastard.”

“He was that and more,” she agreed.

“How did you survive?” Gwen asked. The woman seemed genuinely distressed. Jacque wrapped his arm around his mate and hugged her against his large body.

She didn’t remember a lot about those first excruciating hours of survival. There had been so much blood. So much pain. She’d lost herself, but her wolf had fought to survive.

“I dragged myself deeper into the woods and managed to squeeze in between a group of rocks for protection. I honestly don’t remember much.” She wouldn’t allow herself to remember. “Eventually, I had enough strength to move.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” There was so much pain in her brother’s voice.

She blinked rapidly several times and forced back the tears that threatened to come. “If I came to you and told you what he’d done, he would have killed both of us.”

“I would have protected you,” he insisted.

She hated to hurt Armand, but she had to be brutally truthful. “No, he would have gone to Pierre and we both would have died. No one could have stopped him. Not then. Not with the power of the pack behind him.”

Armand surged to his feet and began pacing. His mate watched him, concern written all over her face. Sylvie was glad he had Anny. She truly seemed to love him.

“Sylvie is right.” Jacque rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “As much as I wish it was otherwise, Andre and Pierre would have gathered their most loyal wolves and killed you both before any of us even knew there was trouble.”