Alyssa's Wolves (Wolf Masters, Book 4) (3 page)

The mystery behind Alyssa’s plight slowly unfolded. Michael spent a great deal of time with her, but he never let on what he knew. She was eighteen and completely unaware she belonged to him.

On Christmas day, two idiots from her pack showed up at the door. They’d been sent to retrieve her. Michael was furious. He wrapped Alyssa in his embrace, claimed she was his, and kissed her. The kiss might have been a little overboard. He’d intended to pretend, for everyone else’s benefit, that she belonged to him. The act was make-believe for everyone but him. She did belong to him. And when he kissed her, he lost all sense of reason for the eternity it seemed to last. He had to force himself to pull back.

Nothing up to that point could have prepared him for the way his heart slammed against his chest, and his blood pounded through his veins. His cock did not listen to reason, and he hid behind his mate to keep his erection out of everyone’s line of sight.

Even after the threat was over, and the thugs had left to inform the Oklahoma pack she had been claimed in Oregon, Michael could not rein in his desire.

In the end, he had no choice. He told his parents what had happened. Richard and Nancy Masters simply smiled. They’d known. Of course.

Seeing no other option, Michael decided to go away for a few years. His mate needed time. Time to grow up. Time to learn about life outside the restrictions she’d been raised with. Time to be loved by his family. He wouldn’t steal her youth by mating her prematurely, even though it broke his heart to leave her. As luck would have it, Alejandro, the man his brother Ryan shared a mate with, was from Spain. It was perfect. Michael would go to Spain and live with Alejandro’s family on their vineyard while Alyssa enjoyed a carefree life with the Masters.

When the time was right, he’d come home…

Chapter 1

Two years later…

“Bingo,” Tyler Evans muttered to himself. Finally, after two days of hiding between the trees staking out the Masters’ Oregon home, the subject of his private investigation emerged. “’Bout time.” He’d worried Alyssa Franklin would never come out of the house by this point.

Tyler’s arms ached from holding up a pair of binoculars for so many hours without bending his elbows, and his eyes could barely focus on anything each time he lowered the binoculars for a moment’s reprieve.

He’d know Alyssa anywhere. Granted, he’d only seen her a few times since they were much younger in Oklahoma and then only from a distance, but she hadn’t changed at all. Maybe her silky pale blonde hair was longer, but the only other difference he could see, even from this distance, was her smile.

Tyler remembered Alyssa as a quiet, mousy teenager who rarely allowed her lips to curve up at the corners, probably because she knew with each passing year she was getting closer and closer to a fate she couldn’t accept—marriage to Dwight Wells. Just the thought made Tyler cringe.

Alyssa nearly skipped out of the house, trailed by three other women, and her radiant face spoke volumes. She was happier here with the Masters in Oregon than she’d ever been with her own pack in Oklahoma. And who could blame her? Even having to separate herself from everyone she’d ever known, including her own parents, was a better fate than the one she’d been arranged to endure. Running away from home two years ago and reestablishing herself with a new pack in the northwest had clearly done her a world of good.

Tyler slumped against the tree next to him. God, he couldn’t do this. Fuck Fredrick Wells. The leader of his pack would just have to go screw himself.

The women climbed into a shiny new black F150 and headed down the gravel driveway toward the main road.

Tyler nearly forgot his mission—to track Alyssa and verify she was indeed mated to Michael Masters. Why his pack leader had a sudden renewed interest in Alyssa was a mystery, but now that Tyler stood here, staring at the back of the truck loaded with the women, a chill went down his spine. Did Wells still intend to force her to mate with Dwight?

Scrambling toward the rental car he’d hidden off the road, Tyler tripped over several roots, berating himself for growing lax. Hell, he was hungry and thirsty and tired. The bottles of water he’d brought and the various snacks had long since disappeared. Adrenaline led him to the car and caused him to start the engine moments after the black truck passed his location.

His mind was made up.
Why the hell are you still following her?
He just wanted to see for himself, get a closer look. Perhaps he could live vicariously through her for just a few minutes if he could just get near enough.

It hadn’t occurred to him he might lie. In actuality, he’d assumed it would be easy to prove she was claimed, and he could return home mission accomplished. At this point he could see he wasn’t going to prove anything. He hadn’t seen anyone who appeared to be her mate. He suspected these women were the mates of Michael’s brothers. A lot of men had come and gone from the house in the last two days, but there was no way for Tyler to know if any of them were actually mated to Alyssa.

He’d done his research, more than Fredrick had given him and more even than was required for this task. So many shifters and their spouses lived at this dairy farm he could barely keep up with all of them. Tyler would never be able to recognize a soul from the Masters family. There were too many. Michael had three older brothers and an older sister. And to make matters even more confusing, all three brothers shared their mates with another man.

Granted, they didn’t all seem to live in this precise ranch house, but that was a hell of a lot of men for one family.

Alyssa, however, had been easy to spot. She stood out even among the other mates with her long, light-colored hair and even lighter skin tone. Where was her mate?

Tyler kept a short distance between him and the F150. Thank goodness he’d rented a non-descript, small, white, two-door sedan. Hopefully no one would notice him or care to pay attention.

The women drove about ten miles before turning onto another highway and then almost immediately exiting to the right.

Easy. And their destination made him grin from ear to ear. A small county rodeo. Perfect. He could follow them at a short distance in the crowd, spy on Alyssa, maybe even eavesdrop on a conversation between the women. And then he could get out of town as fast as possible, return to Oklahoma, lie to Wells about what he’d seen, and go on with his life.

No way in hell was he going to jeopardize Alyssa’s happiness by reporting back to his pack that she wasn’t mated. Now that he’d seen her, he didn’t give a fuck whether she was mated or not. She looked fantastic, and these people had done that to her.

The women parked and headed toward a ticket booth. Tyler angled his car into a spot not far from theirs and followed at a distance. He didn’t want to give himself away. He found himself drawn to the blonde beauty. How had he never noticed how gorgeous she was before? He’d grown up seeing her frequently at pack meetings.

Because she’d been barely more than a child when she left
. And noticing her would have done him not one iota of good. She’d been promised to Dwight Wells since birth.

She wasn’t a child now, however. She was most definitely a grown woman. When she tipped her head back to laugh at something one of the other women said, Tyler gasped. She was not just a woman. She was sexy as hell. Her hair flipped behind her, and he found himself wishing he could run his fingers through the silky mass.

Tyler handed two fives to the ticket agent, his hand shaking at the thought of Alyssa mating a man three times her age who already had three wives. How in the hell had Tyler ever thought that way of life was okay?

He entered through the turnstile, staying far enough behind Alyssa to not arouse suspicion. It was crowded enough inside the park that remaining anonymous was not a hardship.

Tyler was one of the lucky ones. Being a man afforded him more privileges within the pack. He’d gone not only to college but also graduate school. No woman was promised to him yet. Little wonder since there weren’t enough to go around with several men having more than one female mate. Since he’d not felt connected to any girl or woman within the pack in his life, he didn’t give a hoot he’d not been arranged to mate with one. Relieved was a better word.

At twenty-four, he was just now out of school and job hunting. Somehow that made Wells feel that his time wasn’t valuable at the moment, and he’d been sent to track Alyssa and report back. Tyler shivered, a chill running down his back when he considered the ramifications of telling Wells Alyssa was
not
mated. Lord knew what that jackass would do.

Didn’t matter now. He’d never tell Wells a thing. His sudden moment of clarity between the trees was expanding by the second.

The women were easy to follow. There were four of them, all dolled up for an evening of entertainment. One was hugely pregnant. They were so carefree. Giggling. Joking. Without a care in the world.

With no haste, the women ambled toward the arena and headed to their seats—not without stopping at numerous booths outside to ogle over various knickknacks, cowboy hats, western wear, and jewelry.

Instead of feeling aggravated, Tyler grinned. He wished his mother and the other women he knew in Oklahoma could live this easy life.

Since he’d spent the last several years mingling with humans and other shifters at the university, he’d noticed that shifters in other packs behaved like humans. Enjoyed life. Laughed. The women in his pack did not.

The Masters women most certainly loved life.

As Alyssa rounded a corner to head up into the stands, Tyler followed. He glanced around the ramp wall, watched the women take seats about a dozen rows up, and then took the first step in their direction. And froze.

Holy mother of God
.

Tyler stiffened and then quickly yanked himself back into the ramp. He plastered his back to the wall, his chest pounding, gasping for air. Alyssa’s scent permeated his awareness.

“Are you okay, sir?”

Tyler jerked his head up and found an elderly employee standing right in front of him, brow wrinkled in concern.

“Oh, yes. Yes. Thank you. I’m fine.”

Not even a little bit fine
.

Tyler had to get the hell out of there and fast. Like now.
Run
.

Walking at least as fast as a gold medal winner for speed walking, Tyler scurried toward the exit, pushed through the turnstile to the outdoor arena, and fled for his car as though his pants were on fire. He had to get out of Dodge, and then Oregon, as fast as possible. Before the women saw him, before Alyssa spotted him. And Lord help him, he prayed, for her sake, she hadn’t noticed him. Maybe she’d been distracted enough laughing with her friends to not have scented his presence.

He knew two things for certain. One—he never ever wanted Alyssa to know he’d been there. He would do nothing to upset her world or change the path she was on. The Masters were good people and perfect for her.

And two—she was most certainly not mated to Michael Masters because Alyssa Franklin was his mate.

*

Alyssa’s head whipped up. She glanced around, the voices of her friends suddenly muted beside her. She gripped the armrests on both sides of her, white knuckling them until her fingers hurt. Her gaze darted back and forth, but no one seemed to be looking her direction. Not many people had even taken their seats.

Her mate was here. There was no doubt about it. All three of her friends, the other Masters women as she fondly thought of them, had told her what it’d been like when they first caught the scent of their mates.

And they hadn’t lied. Sensory overload. She breathed in his scent as though he were right next to her. It blocked out all other smells. Her body warmed. Her hands shook. She needed to see him like she needed her next breath. The man she’d spend the rest of her life with was nearby. And he was lupine.

Where was he?

“Alyssa? Hon? You okay?” Kara had a grip on her arm, and Alyssa looked down at her friend. She’d not even realized she’d stood.

She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry, and her throat wouldn’t cooperate. Alyssa swallowed and licked her lips, her gaze still roaming the area. Without a word, she climbed over Kara and then a very pregnant Jessica and, in a panic now, rushed down the stairs leading up to their seats. The scent had vanished.

Alyssa darted back in the direction they’d entered the stands. No one. She scanned the growing crowd. Not a soul was paying any attention to her, and the smell of her mate grew fainter by the moment.

At the turnstile she looked out into the crowd and took a deep breath. The scent was gone. He was gone. Vanished like he’d never been there. Except Alyssa knew he’d been there. She wasn’t crazy.

Where did he go? Why? Didn’t he sense her as she’d sensed him? Is that why he split so fast?

She glanced down at herself. She was wearing her best westernwear—a sexy aqua top and low-rise jeans that hugged her to perfection. Her favorite outfit. Was there a chance her mate hadn’t liked what he’d seen?

Without even seeing his face, her body had responded to him as quick as lightning. The crotch of her tight jeans grew damper by the second, and an ache filled her belly as if her womb insisted she find the wolf destined for her right now and force him to see reason.

Alyssa flinched.

“Alyssa? Alyssa?” Lindsey’s voice filtered through the crowd, and Alyssa turned to find Lindsey pushing between bodies against the flow of traffic to get closer.

Defeated, Alyssa turned back toward the arena and caught up with Lindsey.

“What happened? You looked like you’d seen a ghost.” Lindsey was breathless. She gripped Alyssa’s arms.

“He was here.”

“Who?” Lindsey’s brows squished together.

“My mate.” Alyssa ducked her head. “He was here. And now he’s not.”

“Your mate? But…” Lindsey bent her knees to get into Alyssa’s line of vision. “Are you sure? I mean, could you have been mistaken?”

Alyssa shook her head. “Nope. It was him. Why would he flee? Do I look okay?” Alyssa stepped back, putting some space between herself and Lindsey as if the woman would need a better, closer look to affirm Alyssa’s level of appeal, as if Lindsey hadn’t already seen Alyssa for the last hour or so and couldn’t remember what she’d been wearing. “Do I have a giant smudge of makeup or…” She patted her hair.