Authors: Lorie O'Clare
Josie allowed the change to surge to life inside him. His dark skin and coal-black hair would be a telltale giveaway. Anyone in this pack would recognize his breeding in a second. The trick was not to be spotted, reach Pete’s den and do what he had to do, then leave just as quietly. As long as his scent didn’t get picked up, he would pull this off. It wasn’t the first time Josie had entered enemy territory to pay someone an unexpected visit. He wasn’t half as worried about getting in and out of
lunewulf
territory as he was about dealing with the headache Dimitri would give him when he returned to his den.
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Lorie O’Clare
The small bar on the end of the street was doing a lousy night’s business. Granted, the night was early and most packs got out closer to midnight. There only needed to be one good car, and he quickly picked out the one that would serve him best.
A small four-wheeler with dark-tinted windows sat parked alongside the
lunewulf
establishment. Josie ran his hand over the cold metal, determining that it had sat there for at least long enough for the engine to cool, and focused on the building in front of him. There were four males inside the club, two of them wondering if they’d get any tail that evening, while the other two seemed preoccupied with personal den problems.
None of their thoughts interested him.
He walked the length of the car, not surprised to find it locked. Waiting in the shadows, he watched while a few more
lunewulfs
showed up, Josie passed the time reaching out to listen to the rambling thoughts of the members of this pack. It wouldn’t hurt to listen for anything that might help Malta werewolves while killing time until his male arrived.
Fortunately less than an hour later a
lunewulf
exited the bar, rattling his keys in his hands as he reached the car. Josie’s wait was over. In spite of the cold, sweat trickled down the back of his neck as anticipation rushed around inside him.
“Cold night,” Josie said quietly, watching as the male’s eyes grew wide with surprise.
Suspicion and anger took over quickly. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Such hostility.” Josie pointed at the blond male, doing so only for the sake of drama, although if anyone he knew saw him right now he probably wouldn’t have blinked an eye before using his gift. He hated more than anything being called a drama king when he used the gift.
The poor
lunewulf
bastard flew over Josie’s head and into the woods behind the bar.
Josie took off in a quick sprint, catching up with the
lunewulf
that he’d sent flying.
Finding the male unconscious, he relieved him of his keys and patted him on the chest.
“You shouldn’t drink and drive anyway,” he told the male.
Leaving him in the woods to sleep it off, Josie ran back to the car and unlocked it.
The tinted windows made it harder to see him as he left the parking lot and drove through the streets of the
lunewulf
community. He turned off the radio and heater, not needing any sound to distract him as he focused on the thoughts of this pack while driving slowly over the cleared roads.
It took some effort listening to all of the voices in his head while driving, although he was a hell of a lot better at multitasking than he’d been years ago. If he tried driving or running in his fur while concentrating on so many different thoughts when he was younger, he would have wiped out for sure.
Pete Wagner had a hell of a lot of hostility in him, and his thoughts ran in circles.
Josie learned over the years that werewolves with guilty consciences often repeated the same thoughts over and over in their minds, as if replaying scenarios until they found a way to accept one that would allow them to stomach some foul act they committed.
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For Life
Pete dwelled on Maura, on how he ditched her on the side of the road and what he would say to the pack leader once he found the balls to announce that she was gone.
Interesting information—her pack didn’t know she was missing yet. Josie weighed his options as he closed in on Pete. He wasn’t sure why this piece of news surprised him. But it didn’t settle well that her fucking pack didn’t even know Maura was gone.
When he found the den, he parked in front of the nice home and stared at the dwelling that Maura had lived in since she mated with Pete.
It was a nice place, even a bit on the fancy side. The small, simple cabin he had built with his own sweat and blood—and a lot of help from the gift—didn’t hold a flame to this place. Maura was accustomed to a much better life than he ever dreamed of, or wanted. Maybe she wouldn’t be happy living with a rogue werewolf who preferred a simpler, much more isolated existence.
Josie ran his fingers through his thick hair and growled at where his thoughts headed. It didn’t matter what appealed to her. He was here to help her gain her freedom and the right to call her own shots—that was it.
He stared at the den while an image of Maura appeared in his mind. For a moment he let go of the mutt’s thoughts and let his attention sway to how soft her body felt and what a wonderfully sweet lover she was. The way she howled when she came and groaned when she licked and nipped at his body simply added to her many appealing attributes. Picturing her dressed, her long, silky blonde hair damp and falling down her backside while she moved around his den wearing only his shirt, got his dick harder than stone. Her bright blue eyes took in everything, and her sweet, sultry scent seemed to make his small den come to life. God. He loved how she fucking smelled.
And the way she thought, not trying to hide her mind from him, showed him how much she trusted him. She adored his body and how he acted. Maura thought the world of him, and he didn’t want to fuck that up. Any bitch he spent time with in the past went out of her way to control her mind around him. Maura didn’t even seem to care about manipulating him or her own thoughts in any way. As long as the damned pedestal she’d placed him on didn’t crumble from underneath him, he’d go to any extreme to keep her happy and content.
What was she doing right now? Nicolo would make sure she never left his den.
Would Maura hang out with his mate, catching up on old times and sitting quietly chatting about the things females talked about? For about the twentieth time since he left his pack, Josie wondered if Dimitri had stopped by Nicolo’s den yet. He would know soon enough when he returned to his pack.
Forcing the image of her from his thoughts, Josie returned his attention to the den in front of him. He would also worry about her reaction to his being here once he returned to his den. Even if she didn’t forgive him for what he was about to do, at least she would have her freedom. Maura deserved that. She deserved a hell of a lot more than that—he just wasn’t sure he was the werewolf who could make her happy. Sure, he could satisfy her, and he knew he appealed to her. But letting a bitch tie him down, put a collar around him, put a foul taste in his mouth. The worst part of it all was that 55
Lorie O’Clare
she would want in his mind, arguing that he was in hers. Which was fair. There was just one problem. No one got in his mind. Josie even stayed out of his own head as often as possible. Other werewolves’ thoughts were a hell of a lot more appealing than his own.
Maura deserved better. Better than the runt inside this fancy den, and better than Josie could give her.
He scowled and squinted through the tinted window of the borrowed car he sat in, studying the well-groomed suburban den. Pete Wagner would die. Josie would give Maura this. That much he could do.
Josie focused once again on the thoughts of the
lunewulf
inside. Pete planned on going out. The front door opened and the male stepped into the cold night air. Instantly he froze when he saw the car sitting out on the street. Pete knew the male who owned the vehicle Josie had borrowed. It didn’t surprise Josie that Pete didn’t get along with the
lunewulf
who currently lay unconscious out in the woods. More than likely, the scum didn’t get along with most of his pack. It was a damned shame that a waste of werewolf flesh like this asshole managed to get his paws on something as beautiful and precious as Maura.
Instead of coming to the car, Pete turned to his den, hurrying back inside. He intended to call the bitch who he planned on visiting and stall for time until the car moved away from his den. Pete actually had the nerve to question if the male who drove this vehicle might be considering paying Maura a visit. Pete ached for evidence that his mate was unfaithful—anything to take to his pack leader and justify why she had disappeared.
He might as well have it out with Pete inside his den as in the front yard. Cutting the engine, he hopped out of the car and pocketed the keys. Even the outside of this den smelled of aggravation and foul play. It was a wonder no one else noticed. Or maybe these
lunewulfs
went out of their way to ignore anything that might lead to a confrontation. Where was the fight, the honor, in this pack?
Josie opened the front door to the den before he reached it and didn’t slow his gait until he entered.
“Oh shit!” Pete about jumped out of his skin as he stared wide-eyed at the door that opened by itself, and then Josie, who stood a good six inches taller than him and probably weighed at least a hundred pounds more. “Who…who are you?”
“It would be grossly clichéd to say your worst nightmare.” Josie didn’t see any need for introductions. He watched Pete drop the phone and heard a female screech on the other end, although Pete didn’t seem to notice her wailing. Josie picked the cell phone up off the floor and spoke into it. “This won’t take long,” he said while Pete stumbled backward.
“What won’t take long?” Pete sniffed the air frantically, his entire face scrunching up while he tried to decipher Josie’s scent. “You’re a Malta werewolf,” the genius added.
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For Life
“Damned smart
lunewulf
.” Josie hung up the phone, putting an end to the cries from the female on the other end of the line. If the bitch had half a brain, she would call for reinforcements to help Pete out. Josie didn’t plan on being here that long though. “I warned you a few months ago that I didn’t approve of males using females as punching bags.”
Pete backed up farther and stopped only when he pressed against the living room wall. The muttering, whimpering sound coming out of him was almost as annoying as his rampant thoughts. As terrified as he was right now, he would never put two and two together. Josie didn’t feel like waiting around until Pete figured it out.
As much as he wished he could torture Pete a little, make him beg and experience the humiliation that he put Maura through during her mating with him, there just wasn’t time. Josie learned a long time ago that trying to rehabilitate a bully often proved to be a waste of breath anyway. They would return to their old ways the second he walked out of their lives.
So, as much as there was no true honor in the fight, Josie lunged forward, lifted Pete by his scrawny neck and twisted it. Pete let out a gurgling sound and clawed at Josie’s hands. His grip relaxed after a short time and he quit kicking and thrashing. Josie dropped the lifeless
lunewulf
on the floor and glared at him.
“That is for Maura. I promised her widow status,” he told Pete.
Pete didn’t answer though. He lay crumpled on his living room floor—dead.
Josie returned the car to the small bar just outside the
lunewulf
town and dropped the keys on the unconscious male in the woods. If the male remembered flying backward in the air before falling to the ground, knocked out cold, he wouldn’t mention it to anyone. The humiliation would keep the male quiet.
By the time Josie reached Malta territory again, he was running at maximum speed, his claws tearing into frozen snow and dirt while racing up the mountain. Adrenaline pumped inside him with a vengeance. As much as he loved getting outside the pack so he could clear his head of everyone’s thoughts, there were times when it sucked that all he could hear were his own thoughts. At the moment, they plagued him like a nasty disease.
He should be grateful there weren’t any confrontations with more of the
lunewulf
pack. Everything went as he planned. Pete was dead. Maura no longer had to fear him, or live a life with a choke collar on her. He fulfilled his promise to her. There was no challenge. Josie hadn’t announced a damn thing. He had simply taken the
lunewulf
’s
life.
Maura’s words about him killing Pete without challenging him chewed annoyingly at his conscience though. Josie prided himself on being a werewolf with honor. He did what he did for Maura’s happiness. Now she had her widow status. That wasn’t a bad life for a female. She could go where she wanted, do what she wanted.
The thought of her running anywhere without him appealed about as much as her words suggesting his actions had no honor.
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By the time he reached the top of his mountain, he was fucking sick of hearing his own thoughts. No matter how he looked at it, his mood grew more sour. Any other time he would haul ass, take a good, hard run and clear all demons from his mind. Or better yet, find a willing bitch and ride her hard and fast until they were both satisfied and exhausted. Diving deep into Maura’s tight pussy sounded like a damned good idea. None of the Malta bitches in his pack sounded any good to him at the moment.
There wasn’t one of them that even came close to smelling as sweet as Maura.
But celebrating Pete’s death with her might bring them closer together. Her deep blue eyes, her open mind and unhindered thoughts and her soft body pressed against his distracted him too much to seek out someone else. But if he fucked her again, then what?
The best thing to do would be to let her know her mate was dead. He would inform her that her pack didn’t know she was missing. Maura could return to her den, have her widow status and live out her life with her own breed, never to be beaten again. And never see him again.