Betrayed (Wolf Gatherings Book 6) Page 3
When Natalie offered for her to stay in the main house until she got her feet under her, she’d easily taken the opportunity. She loved the ranch. The Spencers were the nicest people. As an only child, she’d never been around so many loving people. The volume and laughter melted her heart.
Not that her parents hadn’t been the best parents she could ask for. But they had no other children. They hadn’t exposed her to large cities or crowds. Her friends had all moved on, and she wanted to do the same.
Heather shook herself from her reverie when Natalie bustled back into the room with a tray. “Soup’s on.”
Heather’s mouth watered. It smelled fantastic. She pulled herself to a sitting position. She was starving, and her stomach growled in agreement as soon as Natalie set the tray on her lap.
“It’s canned chicken noodle soup, but I thought that would be easiest on your stomach right now. Tomorrow you can try something more substantial.” Natalie pulled up a chair. “Go ahead. Eat while it’s hot.”
Heather took the first sip and moaned. “Perfect. Thank you so much. For everything.” She lifted her gaze. “I don’t know where I’d be without you and your family.” Tears clouded her eyes, but she held them at bay.
Natalie waved away her praise. “Not a problem. You’re like my own daughter now. Nothing I wouldn’t do for anyone.” She paused. “Scott and Jerrod shifted and went to look for your black wolf.”
Heather blinked. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It means a lot to me. I swear I’m not crazy.” Having Natalie’s youngest sons looking for her mate was better than nothing.
“Never thought you were.” Natalie smiled.
If they were all just humoring her, she didn’t care. As long as they found the black wolf, that was all that mattered. A chill raced down her spine. He’s mine. Her certainty grew with each passing moment. She wanted him found, and she wanted answers.
Heather slept restlessly that night, in part due to the throbbing in her leg, and in part due to the mysterious disappearance of her mate. The Spencers had not had any success finding anyone near the main ranch property.
But now, with dawn creeping in, she was wide awake. As she stared at the horizon through the window of her room in the main house, she heard a commotion. It started far away and grew louder as whoever it was approached her room.
She was lifting her upper body to sit when the door flew open and Natalie’s mate, Jerome, burst into the room with his son Scott on his heels. Her gaze immediately shifted to the black wolf pushing past them both, however. He bounded into the room and skidded to a stop when he spotted her. He cocked his head to one side and sat on his haunches for a moment. If wolves could smile, he was doing so.
“I’m sorry, Heather,” Scott began. “He was roaming around outside when I went to the barn. He made it clear he wanted in the house even shifted.” Scott’s voice was fearful.
“It’s okay.” Heather didn’t take her eyes off the black wolf.
Suddenly he bounded onto the bed in one leap and sat at her feet.
“Oh,” she gasped, leaning back.
He was ragged around the edges, in need of a bath. He was also invading her space. But he was hers.
“Oh,” Jerome repeated. Even in wolf form, there would be no way to hide the fact he was her mate from anyone. They would all sense it. “Now I see the urgency.” He chuckled as he stepped forward. He took the wolf’s jaw in his hand and turned his face, forcing the black wolf to meet his gaze. “You get one warning, fellow. I don’t know you, and I have no idea why you haven’t shifted, but if you hurt one hair on this woman’s head, your ass is mine. You hear?”
The black wolf nodded. He transferred his gaze back to Heather and stared at her.
“Give us a minute,” Heather said. She watched as the black wolf made himself at home at her feet.
Scott spoke up next. “Are you sure? We don’t know anything about him. He could harm you.”
“If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done so yesterday. He saved my life and brought me to you.” Heather didn’t look at Jerome or Scott as she explained. She didn’t feel the stress they felt. She was perfectly calm gazing at her mate. She knew instinctively he would protect her against any enemy on the Earth. She wasn’t in any harm in his care.
Except maybe for her heart. His narrowed gaze gave her a chill, and he never stopped watching her.
Jerome and Scott left the room, shutting the door behind them. They mumbled something about being closeby, but Heather barely listened.
She stared at her mate, clearer than she’d been in almost twenty-four hours.
He stared back.
“Well, are you going to just lie there?” She narrowed her gaze, waiting for him to shift. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in human form. Perhaps we could even have a conversation,” she sassed.
The black wolf lifted his head and ducked his nose to look down at her, as if to say, “I’ll damn well shift when I’m good and ready.”
“Seriously?”
He continued to stare. His breath landed on her ankle, tickling her skin.
She pulled it away from his face, only to be brought up short, wincing at the pain.
He mewled and scooted back, blinking at her with sorrowful eyes.
Ah, not so tough after all. She stored the information away for safekeeping. He might be playing the big bad wolf, but he also cringed to see her suffer.
“Fine. I’ll go first. I’m Heather. Heather Peters. I’m from Oregon.” She paused.
His ears had perked up.
“Wait. Why am I telling you all about myself when you’ve shown no interest in reciprocating?” She threw her hands down and then drew the covers up higher on her body, realizing she lay there in nothing more than a tank top with no bra.
In fact, the wolf lowered his gaze to her chest as she wiggled to get farther under the covers.
“Are you kidding? You don’t get to ogle me, big guy.” She rolled her eyes and leaned back. “Geez. How did I get so lucky?”
•●•
Marcus watched her every expression. Heather Peters was gorgeous. He couldn’t stop panting at her feet. Her red hair was disheveled around her face, the curls falling in every direction even though she tried repeatedly to tuck them behind her ears. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, enticing him when she scrunched up her face. Her eyes bored into him, the green depths seeming to reveal her deepest, darkest secrets.
When she flattened and stared at the ceiling, he settled more comfortably at her feet. He hadn’t eaten since early yesterday, but he could go a long time in wolf form without food.
What he couldn’t do was stay away from Heather. He’d tried. All night he’d wandered the woods, pacing. But by morning he knew it was a lost battle. He needed to be near her. Even if he didn’t shift, he needed to know she was okay. Healing. Recuperating. The rest he would figure out as he went along. First, he could at least get a better feeling for these people inside their home rather than pacing the edge of the forest.
Not to mention the fact she was bound to tell them about him. He decided he was better off coming forward rather than being found roaming the property.
He had enough hurdles to surmount without adding creepy stalker to the mix.
What he hadn’t figured into the equation was the way her presence would slam him in the chest and take his breath away. In human form in a trapped room, it was worse. She was his. Did she know that? She seemed interested in getting to know him, but she hadn’t specifically said anything about them being mates.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she pulled her damn sheet higher.
For what? For rescuing her? He hadn’t really done anything. She’d done all the work. All he’d done was lie next to her and then nudge her into action.
Someone knocked at the door, and Marcus lifted his head and swung toward the opening, immediately going on the defense.
“You doing all right in here?” It was yet another brother. He’d ascertained there were
at least three brothers. Though he thought he remembered there being a fourth from his youth. They all looked like their father, so it was easy to figure out.
The latest man glanced at Marcus and furrowed his brow. He came farther into the room. “Is he going to shift?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. He’s not saying.” Heather grinned, and Marcus nearly swallowed his tongue when a gorgeous smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes until they sparkled.
The newcomer smirked. “Guess not. Weird.” He turned toward Marcus. “I’m Drake. I guess you met my dad and my brother, Scott.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels as he turned back to face Heather. “He’s a chatty one, huh.”
“Yeah. I can’t rest with all his yammering.” She smiled again.
Marcus would gladly stay in wolf form forever if it meant seeing the twinkle in her eye.
Drake reached a hand forward, and Marcus growled before he could stop himself, lifting up on all fours.
Drake lifted both arms up. “Easy, fellow. I was just going to pour her some water. Her lips are dry. She hasn’t had enough to drink since she was bitten.” He slowly lowered his hands until he picked up the pitcher and poured a glass, only taking his gaze off Marcus for short instances.
Heather sat up, pulling her legs away from Marcus’s snout. She narrowed her gaze at him. She wasn’t laughing now. “Stop it.”
He conceded marginally, knowing his actions were unreasonable. Everything about this decision to come forward was unreasonable. He’d done so for purely selfish reasons in the end. He needed to know if it was true. That this woman, Heather Peters, was indeed his mate. It didn’t matter he wasn’t about to shift for her. He simply wanted to be certain she was safe, healing…and his.
Now that you know, what are you going to do with that information, big guy?
“Kinda protective, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” She looked directly at Marcus while she spoke.
Drake handed Heather a glass of water. He turned toward Marcus. “Hey, if you want to get the next glass, be my guest.” And he turned and strolled from the room.
Marcus panted. He did want to get the next glass. He wouldn’t, but he wanted to. There were a lot of things he wanted, but life didn’t always throw the best curve balls. Claiming a mate at this juncture was beyond selfish. Marcus had nothing to offer this woman except a pile of horrific information concerning his own flesh and blood. She would freak out if she knew half of the shit he’d been a party to.
“So, how long are we going to hang out like this?” She set her glass down and crossed her arms. The blankets were tucked tightly against her chest. He wished she’d let them fall.
He sat back down with a sigh, jerking his attention back to his mate. He couldn’t have answered her if he wanted to. Right now he wanted to stare at her and make sure she was safe. He hadn’t thought past that yet.
She’s safe. You can see that. Why are you still here?
Heather scooted back down and held his gaze for a long time. Finally her eyes fluttered shut, and she slept again.
Marcus inched forward slowly. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. There was plenty of space alongside her, and she couldn’t protest while asleep… He also couldn’t bring himself to leave her yet…
Someone was petting him… It felt so good, like his mother used to do when he was a small child. Slowly he opened his eyes, suddenly aware he’d fallen asleep. It had been a dream.
Only it wasn’t a dream. It was Heather. He stared into her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted in a sweet position, indicating she was deep asleep. But her hand was on top of him, hugging him to her.
And he’d never been as happy as that moment. In sleep she craved his proximity. She’d pulled him closer, or perhaps she’d scooted toward him.
The room was bright. Midday. Marcus needed water. He eyed the pitcher on the bedside table with envy.
Heather stirred. A soft moan escaped her lips, and then she dug her hand deeper into his fur. A moment passed before she became alert enough to realize her position.
She bolted upright, releasing him. Her chest heaved. She brushed her hair from her face. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Marcus watched her breasts as they rose and fell, her nipples erect under the tight tank top. She was sexy as hell, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it in this state. Or in any state, asshole.
“Still in wolf form, I see.” She inched away from him. “Aren’t you hungry? Thirsty?”
He was. But he didn’t move, not wanting her scent to disappear.
Heather shoved at him. “Get off the bed, you mutt. I need to use the bathroom.”
Marcus hesitated. If he could have laughed at her term for him, he would have. He glanced at her ankle. It looked much better. She could probably walk. He bounded from the bed, landing on all fours. He sat on his haunches as she swung her legs around and threw her blankets back.
Heather winced as she set her feet on the floor. “My bladder’s going to burst,” she muttered. She tentatively put pressure on her foot and then stood. “Ow. Son of a bitch, that hurts.”
Marcus leaped forward, though he hadn’t a clue what he could do to help.
As soon as she steadied herself enough to avoid falling, Marcus lifted his gaze from her feet. And God almighty. He sucked in a breath. Even in wolf form, he reacted to her.
Heather wore nothing but silk panties and a tank top. It was askew, almost revealing one breast. She hobbled forward, holding on to the bedside table as she moved toward the attached bathroom.
Marcus couldn’t move. He was in her way, but he was frozen in his spot, mesmerized by her sexy body. Her pale legs and arms matched her face, all wide expanse of glorious smooth skin dotted with freckles.
When she couldn’t get past him, she turned toward him. “Move. Geez.” And then she glanced down at herself. She righted her shirt and rolled her eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Have you never seen a woman in her underwear? Lord, wolfboy.” She set her hands on her hips, no longer doing her best to cover herself. “Dude. I don’t know if you realize this, but it seems you’re my mate. I can’t for the love of God figure out why you’re sitting at my feet all doggy like, but move so I can use the bathroom.”
Marcus hopped up and did as she said, inwardly chuckling at her endearments. Wolfboy? Mutt? Doggy? If he’d been in human form, he would have bust a gut laughing. She was right. This was absurd. But he didn’t have the courage to change. And until this moment, he hadn’t had any intention of changing ever. Could he do it? Leave this woman and walk away?
Heather passed him and hobbled to the bathroom. She shut the door, leaving him alone in the room. He glanced around her space. It was sparsely furnished, and there was nothing to indicate it was lived in full time by any particular person. The comforter at the foot of the bed was floral. Was Heather a floral kind of girl? He didn’t think so.
This wasn’t her room. It was a guest room. Did she not live in the main house? She didn’t appear to be related to the people who’d come in and out of the room. A bit too formal. Maybe she’d been visiting.
Or maybe she’s one of the women kidnapped by the North American Reserves last month. Marcus held his breath as he considered the option. It was possible, though he hadn’t seen evidence of any of the others. He hadn’t seen more than three women on the property at any time.
He had to agree with his mother. No way were the Spencers involved in something sinister. He’d been here for hours and no one had yet been anything other than polite and accepting, even though he’d given them no reason whatsoever to trust him.
Heather hobbled back into the room. She opened a drawer and pulled out a few things. She ignored him completely, and then she headed back for the restroom. Seconds later, he heard water running. The shower.
If she hadn’t closed the door entirely, he didn’t believe he would have been able to keep from nosing it open and watching her strip out of her meager clothing a
nd duck under the spray. He licked his chops thinking about it.
In wolf form his ardor was at bay, but barely. If he shifted now, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He’d never wanted a woman as badly as Heather Peters in his life. And her feisty mannerisms and cocky mouth made him itch to claim her immediately. He couldn’t believe how strong the call to mate could be. Overpowering to the point of insanity.
He panted, staring at the bathroom door. He needed to shift, on a visceral level. He needed to claim this woman almost as bad as he needed his next breath. No, worse. Instead he growled low in his throat as he listened to the water running down the drain, knowing his mate was naked behind the door. Damn Fate and Her wicked, witty self.
Chapter Three
Heather returned from the bathroom and rolled her eyes at the wolf still lying on the floor. She decided not to speak to him for a while. See how he liked it. Ignoring him, she left the room, limping toward the kitchen. She felt him on her heels, but she didn’t turn around.
“Heather.” Natalie bustled over to help her, grabbing her arm with one hand and leading her to the kitchen table. “You look much better. Not as pale.”
Heather took a chair and propped her leg up on another. “I feel more alive. I took a shower.” It went without saying since her hair was damp and hanging in long ringlets, completely natural.
The wolf sat at her feet.
“You must be starving.”
“Yes, ma’am. And it smells so good in here.”
“Vegetable soup. I thought it would hit the spot. I know it’s technically too hot outside for soup these days, but when I’m feeling under the weather, I like it anyway.”
“Yes.” She licked her lips. “You’re correct.”
Natalie returned with a bowl, a chunk of fresh-baked bread, and a glass of iced tea. She took a seat next to Heather.
“So…”
Heather shook her head and nodded toward her feet. Hopefully Natalie would get her drift. Maybe if she stopped pandering to the stupid wolf, he would come around.