Wicked Cowboy Wolf Page 6

  He started to face her again. She gasped, tearing her gaze away. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she kept her eyes averted, focusing instead on Bee’s hooves. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she’d been watching him. Not even if he had the most perfect muscled ass she’d ever laid eyes on. Not even though he’d kissed her senseless in a way so memorable that it felt like all the times she’d been kissed before didn’t matter. She was here to save her pack. Nothing more.

  She heard his dark chuckle beneath the rushing sounds of the river.

  “Enjoying your view?” he called out.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she called back.

  A moment later, water sloshed near the river edge. She didn’t look up. All she could see were his bare feet, and she intended to keep it that way.

  He stepped beside her, grabbing his clothing. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen a naked cowboy before, Princess.”

  “That doesn’t mean I want to see you naked, and if you keep teasing me, considering that kiss, I might think you have other motives than the antidote.”

  “You’re not unattractive, Mae.”

  Not unattractive?

  “Watch it,” she scoffed. “Those superb compliments will cloud my head with silly delusions of romance.”

  “I don’t do romance.” He leaned toward her with a conspiratorial smirk. “So don’t make something as little as a kiss more than it is.”

  Hurt seared through her, but she didn’t dare show it. “You say that like I want it to mean something.”

  “You wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t.” Slowly, he eased closer until she felt him lingering behind her. A drop of water from his hair dripped onto her shoulder, and the chill of the river water radiated from his bare skin. “I smelled your desire,” he purred.

  A shiver ran through her. And from his dark laugh, he’d noticed.

  “I know the sounds you make when you come,” he challenged. “Saw the way you arch your back as you moan.”

  “It was dark in my bedroom,” she shot back.

  “I’m a wolf, Mae. All the better to see you.”

  Her jaw tightened. “I’m not loud.”

  She heard the amusement in his voice. “All the better to hear you.”

  Her hands clenched into fists. “It was a mistake.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’ve learned your lesson.”

  “And what’s that exactly?”

  “Never trust a wolf like me, Mae.” He leaned in toward her, the heat of his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck. “Because once he sees you, hears you”—he inhaled a sharp breath, and for a moment, she thought his lips might brush the delicate skin of her throat—“he just might want a taste…”

  He stepped away from her. When he returned a moment later, a wry grin crossed his lips. He was holding his flask again. He extended it toward her. “Drink,” he insisted. “To our newfound alliance.”

  “What is it?”

  “Something to make the travel to my ranch smoother,” he said.

  She stared at his offering.

  The longer she hesitated, the more amused he seemed. “You don’t trust me, little lamb?”

  Little lamb?

  He was challenging her, taunting her. Again.

  And she’d be damned if she would let him win.

  Mae snatched the flask from his hand. “I’m no lamb.” She lifted it to her lips, chugging several long swigs. The fiery whiskey burned down her throat, but she didn’t dare allow herself to cough. As the burn subsided, she pegged him with a hard stare. “You forget I’m just as much of a wolf as you are.” She allowed her wolf eyes to flash.

  He grinned. That devilish smile was becoming all too familiar. “We’ll see about that.”

  Stepping around her, he grabbed his shirt from the rock and pulled it on. He glanced behind her. For a moment, she thought he was watching the skyline, where the stars were just beginning to fade into the early light of morning, until he said, “You’re late.”

  Mae glanced behind her. Several wolves in human form emerged from the shadows, slowly closing in on them. The hair on the back of Mae’s neck rose on end, and goose bumps prickled across her skin. But Rogue seemed unfazed by the wolves’ presence. Were these his men? Her gaze darted between the advancing wolves.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “I thought you said we were going to your ranch.”

  “And we are.” He stepped away from her. “But you didn’t think I’d let a Grey Wolf be privy to its location, did you?”

  Her eyes darted to the black sack and rope in one of his men’s hands. Realization dawned on her. With the promise of her pack’s safety dangled in front of her and the vampire’s attack, it’d been all too easy to forget this man was still her brother’s enemy. He wouldn’t want a Grey Wolf like her knowing where his ranch was…and he had no intention of taking her there as a partner.

  He intended to take her as a prisoner.

  “We had a deal,” she breathed. “You said you’d protect me.”

  “And I intend to keep my end of the bargain. No harm will come to you. You’ll be perfectly safe, as promised.”

  “You misled me. If you think threatening to put a bag over my head and tying me up counts as safe, you’re delusional!”

  “I said I would protect you from the vampires and find the antidote. Nothing more.”

  “You bastard,” she growled as his men eased closer.

  Her words didn’t seem to faze him. “I’ve been called far worse and deserved it.”

  As his men drew closer, Mae snarled. She crouched low, preparing to shift.

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Mae. I promise to be a gentleman. Rogue’s honor. I’ll even have one of my men retrieve that damn pig of yours,” he said. A dark grin crossed his lips. “But you really should be more discerning when making deals with the devil.”

  Mae stepped backward, preparing to make a run for it. She was about to tell him that for all she cared, he could take his damn deal and shove it, but at that moment, her foot caught on one of the river rocks. Suddenly, the world tilted on its axis as she stumbled.

  The next thing she knew she was lying on her back, a searing pain throbbing through the base of her skull. Off in the distance, someone was swearing like a sailor, but his voice became garbled as her vision blurred. The colors of the early-morning sunrise blended into a kaleidoscope as she blinked up at the sky.

  Her eyes grew heavy as a pair of strong arms lifted her. Rogue held her in his arms, clutching her to his chest as if she weighed nothing.

  Mae fought to keep her eyes open, to focus on the sharp lines of his face, but it was no use. The darkness encroached on her faster than a striking viper. And she was suddenly tired. Too tired to fight.

  “You’ll go to hell for this,” she slurred.

  “You forget, Princess”—he brushed his thumb over her cheek—“I’m already on the list of permanent residents.” He stared down at her. The blue of his eyes filled her with cold as her eyelids grew heavy, so heavy she couldn’t keep them open any longer. The last thing she heard before she slipped into darkness was his deep voice whispering to her.

  “I’ll take care of you, Mae. You won’t regret this.”

  Chapter 5

  Mae had never been to the ocean before, yet she felt the waves beneath her in a gentle, swaying movement. The water was warm, and the waves wrapped around her like a pair of powerful arms. An unfamiliar voice echoed from beneath the surface, bubbling from within the deep, muffled and distant.

  Jared.

  At the name, she instantly stiffened. She was twelve again, barely a woman, and the sharp hands of her mother were pulling her, tearing her away. She was screaming, pleading, yet her cries fell on deaf ears. She needed to find him, to save him, to tell h
im she loved him, but she couldn’t move.

  He’s dead, her conscience answered.

  The water around her grew cold with her guilt. The ocean stilled like the eerie calm in the eye of a storm. Mae struggled to breathe as the water pressed in around her, threatening to swallow her as she drowned in its depths.

  Jared was dead, which meant she might as well be too. The waves whispered in a crashing chorus as they closed in around her, crushing her, claiming her.

  Your fault.

  Mae woke with a start, sitting up as a jolt of energy thundered through her. Her heart pounded against her breastbone as she struggled to catch her breath. She was lying in a massive four-poster bed in an unfamiliar room, and…

  She wasn’t alone.

  She startled, scrambling back toward the headboard.

  “Easy there, lass.” The warning tone was strangely familiar.

  Mae’s eyes darted to where the voice originated.

  The Scottish brogue belonged to a large wolf of a man. A thick beard obscured most of his face, save for a pair of hawkish brown eyes that watched her every move. He was perched at the edge of the bed. If the sheer size of him wasn’t enough to intimidate, coupled with the full sleeves of elaborate tattoos covering his arms, the eyes that watched her would have been. From the scent and size of him, he was an alpha, and if the grimace on his lips was any indication, a man not to be crossed.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She gripped the sheets beside her. “Where am I?”

  Behind him, a large picture window revealed the early sunrise. The streams of light it allowed in illuminated the room. Outside, sprawling ranchlands were in view with cattle grazing and blue-ridged mountains in the distance. They weren’t Montana mountains; she recognized that much, but with those lands, they couldn’t be far from her home state.

  “Black Hollow,” he answered, drawing her attention back toward him.

  “Which is where exactly?” she asked.

  He watched her with those hawklike eyes. “’Tis a well-kept secret where the Rogue keeps his home.”

  The Rogue.

  She touched a hand to the back of her head. A small amount of blood had dried and matted the back of her hair. Though she’d passed out, the wound was small and superficial enough that with her true nature, it was already well on its way to healing. Only the occasional throb in her temple served as a reminder.

  She fought down a snarl. It was all coming back to her now. The attack on her packmates. The promise of the antidote. That handsome, scarred face beneath his Stetson hat. That devious grin. The whiskey she’d drank to their deal, and then the sunrise blurring before her eyes. The last thing she remembered was staring up into his face as she’d faded into darkness…

  And yet she’d been enough of a fool to kiss him.

  She growled, her wolf eyes flashing as she moved to the edge of the bed. All she could think of were his men, standing there with those horrible black bags and ropes. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t come to that. She’d throttle him for ever considering manhandling her like a prisoner. She didn’t care that he was an alpha wolf. She’d strangle the bastard within an inch of his life.

  As soon as her feet hit the ground, she headed for the door.

  Wrenching it open, Mae charged out into the hall. From the vantage point of the windows, she was on a large second floor, lines of rooms filling the halls of the mansion ranch home. She rounded on the nearest door and ripped it open.

  “What in the bloody hell are you doin’, lass?” The Scottish wolf leaned against the doorframe. His massive arms crossed over his chest as he watched her.

  She didn’t pay any attention to him. She was too busy seething. To think, for a moment, she’d thought him a hero for saving her, for helping her save her packmates.

  I’m no hero, he’d warned her.

  She scowled. He didn’t earn points for honesty as far as she was concerned.

  When the first room was empty, she wrenched open a second door.

  The Scot watched her, not bothering to stop her.

  Mae ignored him. She searched several rooms until finally, she rounded on the other wolf. “Where is he?”

  “Rogue?” He quirked a brow.

  “No,” she spat back. “Tucker.”

  “Tucker?”

  “The teacup pig,” she specified.

  He looked at her as if she’d grown two heads. “Ach, of course. He said ye’d be askin’ after the hog. He’s in the pen with the other wee piggies.”

  In a pen?

  Mae snarled.

  That rat bastard. Tucker was a house pig.

  Turning away, she barreled down the hall. This time, in search of Rogue. The hall led to an open landing with a rustic wooden balcony that looked down over the first floor. Once at its edge, she scanned the area below. An open floor plan revealed a massive kitchen with an adjacent dining room large enough to feed a small army. A sprawling den and several other larger rooms and halls led deeper into the mansion.

  Even the main compound at Wolf Pack Run—which housed all the apartments of the pack’s elite warriors—wasn’t as immaculate as this. The Grey Wolves ran one of the largest ranches in the state of Montana. It was a multimillion-dollar business. But that profit supported well over one hundred Grey Wolf families who made their home at Wolf Pack Run. Not to mention that the pack sent significant income to the subpacks and used funds from that same income as part of their operation costs.

  Mae kept the Grey Wolves’ books. She knew the cost and profit margins of every item on that ranch. She could recite the numbers in her sleep, she spent so much time poring over them. They lived well, but not extravagantly.

  This was extravagant, a mansion fit for a ranching king.

  She scowled. Of course, Rogue would have considerable wealth to back up all that power. She should have realized. Somehow, that only fueled her anger.

  Mae barreled down the stairs in search of him. Within seconds, she was at the door. Her hand clasped the handle, giving it a mighty tug.

  But it didn’t move.

  “You’ll find it locked, ye ken?” the Scot called down to her. “Ye dinna think we’d be lettin’ ye make a run for it now? Not with the vampires searching for ye.” Her attempt had been so futile, he hadn’t even moved from the top of the stairs where he stood.

  Which meant…

  She was essentially the Rogue’s prisoner, and she’d been foolish enough to agree to it.

  His words played in her head. Our highest priority is for you to stay off the radar. You need to disappear.

  And he intended to do that by keeping her locked away.

  Her hands clenched into fists as she seethed with anger.

  Fine. If that was the way he wanted to play his hand, so be it. That didn’t change the end result. She’d subject herself to a few days locked in his mansion if it meant saving her pack.

  Her thoughts turned to Maverick and the other Grey Wolf cowboys, and her chest constricted. Though it’d appeared the Grey Wolves had been winning the battle, she worried the carnage could still have been brutal. Who could have been hurt? And were they worried about her? Searching for her? Since the start of the war, the vampires hadn’t been brazen enough to directly attack Wolf Pack Run, only the outer edges of their ranch and the Grey Wolf subpack lands. The fighting had been the sole burden of the Grey Wolf warriors.

  Until now…

  “I need to speak with Rogue,” she said. He’d have knowledge of the state of her pack after the vampire attack—who had been hurt, if there were any casualties. She may have agreed to let him lock her away in his mansion, but she had a right to know that her family and friends were all right.

  “Doona fash yerself. He’ll be back soon.” Rogue’s watchdog looked as if he expected this answer to placat
e her.

  It didn’t.

  Rogue’s guard eyed her warily before he said, “Ye’ve stunning emerald eyes. Curiously green…” He said this as if it confused him.

  The observation was so unexpected from this towering beast of an alpha wolf—who looked more likely to eat nails for breakfast than to utter a kind word—that Mae wasn’t certain what to make of it. She chose to ignore the comment. “When is ‘soon’?” she asked.

  “Not long before sundown.” He tore his gaze away from her. She was thankful to no longer be under his hawklike scrutiny.

  “Does my brother know I’m here?” she asked.

  “Best save yer questions fer Rogue, lass.”

  “Just answer me that. I’ll save the rest for Rogue.” When the Scot didn’t answer, she softened her tone. “Please,” she pleaded.

  The Scot shook his head. “No. It wouldna be wise, lass. It’d only make them further target for the vampires. The bloodsuckers’ll do whatever it takes to get to ye, including hurt yer friends and family if they think yer pack knows where ye are. The bloodsuckers will want answers, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get those answers, ye ken?”

  Mae’s stomach churned at the thought of her friends and family being further targeted, thanks to her. That was the last thing she wanted, but she loathed the idea of them being worried about her. “But if they don’t know where I am, they’ll be wasting resources searching for me.”

  “We need them searchin’ fer ye. It’ll make the vampires direct their attention elsewhere if they know yer pack doesn’t have ye. Better ta waste resources than risk yer safety and yer pack’s. The vampires’ll be watching. ’Tis fer the greater good.” He beckoned her upstairs. “Come along, lass,” the Scot said again. His tone was gruffer now, tinged with warning.

  She caught the subtext. That was enough questions for now. She was trapped here in the mansion for the duration of her stay, and this goliath of a Scottish wolf was her keeper…until he returned. She scowled.

  With a frustrated huff, she climbed the stairs until she reached the second-floor landing again. Silently, her captor led her back to the room where she’d woken. When they reached the door, he gestured her inside.