Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 (21 page)

She swallowed hard. Yes, she wanted to mate with Gator. She loved him. That fact had become very evident to her when she’d thought she was about to die at the hands of Travis Dubois.

Gator sat on the side of the bed and peeled back the bloodstained towel. For the first time, she allowed herself to really look at her body. There were two very thick gouges that ran down her side and hip. The rest weren’t nearly as deep and had already closed. He pressed the towel back over the wounds.

“You’re gonna need stitches.” He was already on his feet and headed back toward the bathroom.

“Can we talk about this?” She hated needles.

“
Non
.” Gator’s hard voice drifted out from the bathroom. She heard a cupboard door open and close and then he was back carrying a large white box in his hands. He set it down on the bed, opened it and began to pull out various paper-wrapped packages.

“They’re healing,” she protested.

“Not fast enough.” He opened one packet and drew out what looked like a large needle that was already threaded.

Sylvie felt her stomach drop and sweat peppered her forehead. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

His gaze jerked to her face and he frowned. “I won’t hurt you,
chère
,” he promised.

She swallowed heavily. “The needle will.”

His expression softened. “You don’ need to be afraid of the needle.” His accent was thicker now, reminding her of the place they’d both been born and raised.

“I’m not so sure of that,” she muttered.

Gator wouldn’t be deterred. He cleansed the area with some kind of antiseptic and then sprayed it with something that he promised would help deaden any pain.

“Is this really necessary?” She really didn’t want to get stitches. If that made her a wimp, so be it. “I’m a werewolf. I’ll heal.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” His eyes were molten blue, almost feverish. “How is it you can endure an attack, be wounded and bleeding and not complain in the least and yet you’re afraid of a little needle.”

“I didn’t say it was rational,” she grumbled.

That startled a chuckle out of him. “Look at me.”

She focused all her attention on him.

“Keep watching me,” he ordered.

She stared at his bent head and tried to ignore what his hands were doing. She felt the slightest prick of her skin. A little pinch really. It didn’t hurt at all.

Then she made the mistake of looking down just as he pushed the needle through her jagged flesh. She made a sound of distress and things got fuzzy. He called her name and she thought she might have replied but wasn’t sure.

She really didn’t want to pass out, but that was no longer under control. Her last thought was that he was never going to let her live this down.

Gator reached out one hand and laid it against the fluttering pulse in her neck. It was fast but not too fast. He took the opportunity to quickly finish setting stitches. He’d set the last one when the door opened. He knew without looking it was Armand.

He drew the sheet over her body and stood.

“How is she?” Armand came over to the bed and stared down at his sister.

“Exhausted. Weak.” He heaved a breath and began to gather up the bloody and damp towel and the medical supplies. “Brave too. She’s sleeping. Best thing for her.” He didn’t want to tell Armand she’d passed out because of a needle. He might tease her about it, but it was between them.

Armand stroked Sylvie’s damp hair away from her face. “Thank you.”

Gator growled. “You don’t thank me. Ever.”

His friend nodded. Gator took the opportunity while Armand was with Sylvie to dump the stained towel and used supplies in the garbage and return his medical kit to its place in the bathroom.

Armand was still running his fingers over his sister’s face when Gator returned. “Cole and Louis took care of the body.”

Gator inclined his head. He was glad it was done. He knew none of them would ever mention Travis Dubois again.

Armand pushed off the bed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Worry was etched on his face. “It’s not finished, is it?”

It wasn’t really a question. They all knew that Pierre wouldn’t let this go. “No,” Gator answered. “They won’t stop. Not until Pierre is dead.”

“You think they’ll stop after that?”

Gator had thought about their problem quite a lot and from every angle imaginable. “
Oui
. With Pierre out of the picture and his brother dead, most would expect Jacque to become alpha. But Jacque has made it clear he wants nothing to do with the Louisiana Pack. It leaves the door open to whoever is strong enough to take the alpha position. Why attack Jacque and risk losing when he doesn’t want the job.”

“I only hope they think as logically as you do,” Armand told him.

That was a problem, Gator admitted. He truly believed that Pierre’s death would free them from the threat they’d lived under since they’d left.

“I’ll let you know if she gets a fever.” That was Gator’s not-so-subtle hint that it was time for Armand to leave them. He wanted to strip off his jeans, crawl into bed and lie naked next to his woman.

The need to rub his skin against hers, to assure himself that she was indeed safe and alive was overwhelming.

Armand nodded and headed toward the door.

Gator swore under his breath. “She needs you, Armand.”

His friend turned and smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “I know.”

Gator knew his friend felt responsible for Sylvie being hurt. He understood it because Gator blamed himself as well. But what was done was done. They’d won this round. All they could do was be more vigilant in the coming days.

Armand quietly closed the door behind him. Gator pushed the window wider to allow what little breeze there was to flow into the room. It stank of antiseptic and blood. He pulled the drapes closed to keep out the sun but patches of it filtered into the space when the wind made the fabric flutter.

He could hear the others out in the kitchen. His stomach growled but he ignored it. He had a more pressing need than food.

Gator stripped off his jeans and crawled into bed. Sylvie didn’t stir when he carefully eased her head onto his shoulder. He wrapped her in his embrace and held her as tightly as he dared.

He’d almost lost her today. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked them away. He couldn’t lose her. He’d just have to do a better job of taking care of her.

He kissed the top of her head and kept a vigil over her while she slept.

Chapter Twenty-One

When she awoke, Sylvie was aware of three things—the heat, the itching on her side and the heavy male arm resting on top of her stomach. She inhaled deeply. Gator’s deep earthy scent was mixed with the fainter remnants of something medicinal, sweat and blood. He’d stitched her side shut. Had she really passed out?

“How are you feeling?” He stirred beside her.

She should have known he’d be awake. He always seemed so aware of her and her moods. “My side is itching.”

Gator rolled up into a sitting position and carefully tugged the thin cotton sheet down to her waist. He inspected the row of stitches that ranged down her side. “These are ready to come out.”

That was the thing about werewolves. It didn’t take them long to heal once they rested.

“You still need to take it easy for a few days,” he warned as he rolled out of bed. “You lost a lot of blood. And I don’t want you to risk tearing your wounds open. Then I’d end up having to put more stitches in.”

Sylvie shuddered. “I don’t want that,” she muttered.

He stood, hands on his hips and smiled down at her. “No, I didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Beast.”

He winked at her and padded to the bathroom. Since he was naked, she was given a great view of his firm butt. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned seconds later, giving her an even better view of his front.

His skin glistened with sweat, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders and the width of his chest. He really was magnificent. He was also semi-aroused. Impossible not to notice that.

“Like what you see?” he drawled as he sat on the bed and held up a small pair of scissors.

“Not all of it.” She scowled at the scissors.

He grinned. “I’m only going to cut out the stitches. No needles. I promise.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

He chuckled and eased her onto her right side so he could get at her left. “Maybe in fifty years or so.”

Her heart skipped a beat when he casually mentioned them being together so far into the future. He snipped the first stitch and she clutched the pillow in her hands. The metal of the scissors was cool against her skin, such a contrast to Gator’s warm, gentle touch.

He worked fast and removed all the stitches in no time. He dropped the small threads on the bedside table alongside the scissors. “All done. Like I said, you need to take it easy for a few days. Rest and plenty to eat.” He glanced at the bedside clock. “We missed supper, but I’ll rustle us up something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Okay, that wasn’t quite true. She was starving actually, but she didn’t want the outside world to intrude. Not yet.

He placed his hand on her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. It’s hard to tell in this heat but you don’t feel overly warm.”

“I don’t have a fever,” she assured him. “I feel fine.” She licked her dry lips. “Where are the others?”

Gator stretched out beside her again and she couldn’t help but react to his nearness. Her entire body softened and yearned for his touch.

“They were all here earlier. Armand was here for a while.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I hope he’s not blaming himself for what happened?”

Gator shrugged. “You know your brother,
chère
.”

All too well. He’d be beating himself up over this latest incident. “I’ll talk to him,” she promised.

“They ate earlier and then all went out. I think the women are over at Jacque and Gwen’s place. One or two of the men are probably patrolling.” He stroked her bare shoulder and trailed his finger down her upper arm. The sheet was still draped around her waist, leaving her upper body bare.

“We’re all alone.”

“
Oui
, but you need to rest.”

She nodded her agreement. “I do need to rest.” He narrowed his gaze as if not trusting her easy capitulation, proving once again he was a very smart man. She placed a hand on his chest. His heart was racing and she felt his erection nudge her thigh through the sheet.

“Of course.” His voice was deep and slightly hoarse. “I’ll let you rest.”

“No, don’t go.” That was the last thing she wanted. When she’d thought she was going to die, she’d made herself a promise. “I want you to stay.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,
mon ange
.”

“Why do you call me that?” she asked. “My angel.”

He cupped her chin in his strong hand. His blue eyes were almost electric as he leaned closer. “Because that’s what you are to me. My angel. Returned from the dead.” He pressed a light kiss against her trembling lips.

“Oh, Gator.” She sighed when he eased back. “I really thought I wasn’t going to make it this time.”

“I know. I know.” His muscles hardened beneath her hand and a hum of tension surrounded him.

“I made myself a promise when I thought I was going to die.”

“What was it?” he asked. He brushed her hair away from her face. She knew it had to be a mass of tangles but didn’t care.

“That I wouldn’t hide from life anymore.” She’d come to a lot of conclusions about herself when she’d faced certain death for the second time. “That’s what I’ve been doing since I faked my death and ran away. Existing.”

“No,
chère
. No.” He kissed her forehead and cheeks. “You were healing. You needed time to recover physically and emotionally from everything you’ve been through.” He kissed her again, this time a little more forcefully. “You’re so brave, so strong.”

Her? It was difficult for her to see herself the way Gator did, but it was illuminating. It made her proud. It also made her want to live up to the promises she’d made herself.

“Did you mean it when you said I was your mate?” Her question was blunt but she needed an answer.

Gator’s expression was as serious as she’d ever seen it. There was no sign of levity and he was so still. All the energy that usually vibrated around him was missing. “Now and forever.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheek and then across her lower lip. “When I thought you were dead, I knew I’d never mate. My heart was empty. And then you came back to me.”

Her eyes filled with tears. One escaped and rolled down her cheek. He caught it on the pad of his fingertip. “Don’t cry, Sylvie. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“That’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.” Gator made her feel special, made her feel as though she was enough without having to change a thing about herself. After living with two men—a father and mate—who had both made her feel totally inadequate and useless, that was the most precious gift of all.

“It’s true. You’re it for me.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “You’re my woman. My wolf recognizes you and so do I.”

“I want to make some changes in my life.” Her heart was racing and she was sweating. Just the thought of making such a commitment was almost sending her into a panic attack. But she held the panic at bay. This was Gator. She trusted him more than she trusted any man. She couldn’t imagine being naked and sexually attracted to anyone else.

Gator was her miracle and she was about to claim him.

“What changes,
chère
? What can I do to help?”

This was it. There was no turning back from here. Everything in her life had led her to this man and this moment. Deep in her heart, she knew it was the right thing to do, what she wanted to do. This was her choice, not someone else’s.

Sylvie pushed away and he let her go. His eyes narrowed as he watched her shove the sheet down to her feet, leaving her totally naked. Her skin grew warmer beneath his fiery gaze.

Feeling sensual and powerful, she sat up and then carefully turned over until she was on her hands and knees beside him. She watched him, not wanting to miss his response to her actions. Gator’s nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. His cock was hard as steel and flexed toward her. His reaction was even better than she’d hoped.

“What are you doing,
mon ange
?” His voice was so deep it was almost guttural. His wolf was struggling to take control.

She shivered and almost faltered, but she’d come too far and she wanted this. She gave him what she hoped was a come-hither smile. “I thought it was obvious. I want to mate with you.”

Gator was certain he must still be asleep. This had to be a dream. Either that or an alternate reality. Sylvie couldn’t be here on her hands and knees, calmly asking him to mate with her.

“Why?” His wolf howled in displeasure, his cock throbbed and a voice in the back of his head screamed at him to shut up and just claim her. As much as he wanted to, Gator knew he couldn’t. Not until he knew for sure what was motivating her.

“Why?” she parroted. The expression on her face said it all. Clearly, he’d lost his mind.

He knelt beside her and ran his hand over her slender spine, loving the way she arched into his touch. “Don’t get me wrong. This is what I want. What I’ve always wanted.” And that was why he didn’t trust it. It seemed too easy.

“Then why are you hesitating?” Sylvie sat back on her heels and Gator wanted to howl in frustration and anger. What was wrong with him?

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,
chère
.”

Her expression softened. “Oh, Gator.” She picked up his hand and brought it to her breast. He swallowed hard when the soft mound pillowed against his hard palm. “I could never regret you. Us.”

Of its own volition, his hand moved and his thumb circled her taut nipple. She moaned and he could smell her heat, her sensual perfume. Sylvie was aroused.

“We don’t have to do this now. We can wait until you’ve had time to really think this through.” It was killing him to be noble but she was worth it.

She caught his face between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “I’m sure.”

He swallowed heavily and his cock swelled even larger. Every cell in his body screamed for him to claim her. He wanted to believe her.

“I love you.”

Those three words blew his mind and destroyed what little control he had left. All thoughts of being noble fled beneath the onslaught of primal emotions.
Mine
. That word pulsed in his brain and in his dick. His wolf howled, the sound echoing in his brain.

He growled aloud. She didn’t look away and met his gaze before returning to her original position on her hands and knees.

Slow
.
Take it slow
. The reminder flashed across what few brain cells he had remaining. He dragged himself into position behind her, making a place for himself between her spread legs.

He wrapped a hand around each slender thigh and pushed them wider, exposing her pussy. She was plump and wet and he scented her arousal. He groaned and licked at the damp folds. She moaned his name. That was the sweetest sound of all.

Had to claim her. Had to mark her.

Basic urges were driving him hard. He wanted to mark her before someone took her away from him. He growled again and slid two fingers into her tight, wet sheath. Her inner muscles closed around the thick digits, drawing a moan of pleasure from deep inside him.

He thumbed her clit and was rewarded with a soft cry. Her pussy clamped down harder around his fingers. His balls tightened as though being squeezed in a vise.

He shook himself when his jaw began to crack and lengthen. He couldn’t shift. Not now. But his wolf was tired of waiting.

Gator withdrew his hand from between her thighs and moved closer. His cock slid between her thighs and he moistened himself on her cream. She moaned and rubbed her pussy over his cock, stimulating her clit on his shaft.

He growled and fitted the head of his cock to her opening. She tried to press back but he caught her hips and held her away. “Are you sure?” He’d lost his ever-loving mind to be asking such a question at this moment, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she told him.

“I love you.” He said the words as he pushed his cock into her warmth. Home. That was what Sylvie represented to him, home and a future. Her pussy closed around him, welcoming him with her moist heat.

He gritted his teeth to keep from coming. He swore he saw stars. Nothing had ever felt this fucking good in his entire life.

Her slender back and neck was exposed to him. Silvery lines crisscrossed her back, old scars, reminders of her past pain. He leaned down and kissed them all one by one, and her pussy contracted around his cock. She’d put herself in the most vulnerable position a woman could. And she’d done it for him.

Gator felt like the king of the world. No, too tame. Supreme conqueror of the universe. Yeah, that had a better ring to it. Her trust was a powerful thing and he promised he’d never do anything to give her one moment’s doubt about her decision.

They were both panting hard. His lungs ached with the effort it took to breath. His brains belatedly kicked in and reminded him that Sylvie still wasn’t well. As much as he didn’t want to rush things, this couldn’t be easy for her.

Claim her, fuck her and feed her.

Gator had a goal now, a plan.

He eased back until only the head of his cock was inside her. A heartbeat later, he plunged forward. Sylvie moaned and rocked with him. He leaned over her, planting his hands alongside hers on the bed. His bigger body covered hers.

He’d protect her forever.

Her neck was marked, a reminder that another male had already claimed her. The scars were jagged. Andre had hurt her when he’d claimed her. The bastard.

Gator growled and bared his fangs. She belonged to him now. He kissed her exposed nape and then slowly sank his teeth into the tender flesh.

Sylvie tensed when Gator placed his hands alongside hers. As much as she trusted him, old fears goaded her. He was so much bigger than she was. Stronger. Then he rocked his hips, drove his cock deep and blasted her fears into dust. This was
her
Gator and he would never hurt her.

Her skin tingled with sensation. Every inch of her was alive in a way it had never been before. It would have been so easy to let her wolf out. It was similar to how she felt when she shifted but slightly different.