Hunger of the Wolf (20 page)

Was he angry because she hadn't followed orders? Or because she'd gotten hurt trying to help? Or both?

She hated the look on his face, hated feeling as if he'd shut the door in her face. It made her want to beg him not to be angry with her anymore, made her want to apologize when she still didn't feel as if she'd done anything wrong.

She dragged in a shuddering breath. “Well, I'm glad you aren't hurt any more,” she responded finally.

He sent her a speculative look that she found as hard to decipher as his anger and the cold aloofness before that. “Would you like to watch TV?"

Not especially. She nodded, though. Anything was better than listening to silence or dealing with her thoughts. She settled back against the pillows when he moved to a tall armoire and opened it. Turning the TV on, he moved back to the bed with the remote and dropped it beside her hand.

"Dante?"

He paused.

"You said I'd been out for two days. What about my pets?"

"They're being taken care of."

She didn't ask him who was taking care of them. It was just a relief to know she didn't have to worry about them starving.

When he'd left, she flipped through the channels for a few minutes and finally turned it off again.

Unable to do anything she really wanted to do, bored, and horribly depressed, she simply lay for a while staring at the blank TV screen and finally dozed off again. Cindy brought the next tray. It looked just like the first one, but she felt a little better after she'd eaten.

By the following day, she was able to make it the bathroom without feeling as if she would pass out. She decided to take the opportunity to bathe—which helped her feelings considerably, although it so completely drained her of energy that she had to sleep a while longer. By evening, she'd recovered enough to wonder what the hell she was going to do.

Obviously, her safe haven had been compromised. She couldn't go back there, not even to get the few personal items that meant the most to her—not even for her pets.

She would have to call Mr. Clements, she realized, and see if he would take care of finding a place for the animals. Whatever arrangements Dante had made would have been temporary.

Chapter Nineteen

Surprise flickered through Shilo and then delight when she looked up and saw that it was Maurice who'd brought her evening tray. He met her tentative smile of welcome with a carefully neutral expression, but the moment she smiled his eyes lit up with an answering smile and his expression relaxed.

The delay was still enough to allow doubts to creep in, though, and she was uncertain if her welcome was reciprocated or if Maurice was as pissed off with her as Dante.

She sat up as he moved to settle the tray on the bedside table. Instead of handing it to her, he went ahead and set it down and settled on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms for a hard embrace. Relief surged through her. She slipped her arms around him and held tightly to him, clinging when he would have relaxed his hold and moved away. He aborted the attempt to disentangle himself, stroking a hand along the back of her head and then her back.

She wanted to ask him if he'd really meant it when he had said he was mad about her. She wanted to hear him say it again—now when she wasn't so scared she'd barely taken it in and still wasn't sure whether he'd only said it to reassure her at the time or meant it.

It wasn't right, though. She'd brought the dogs down on them and they couldn't afford to have the government hounding them. She hadn't given it much thought before. She'd been too caught up in her own little world, her personal tragedy, to consider that, not just their lives, but their way of life would be threatened if it became known what they were. As big a hard-on as the government had for her with her minor abilities, they would come all over themselves if they thought they could get hold of a lycan.

She had to leave. As much as the thought depressed her, she knew it was the only thing she could do.

"Your food will get cold,” he murmured against her hair after a few moments.

"I don't care. Just ... hold me a little while?"

His arms tightened. “I'll hold you forever, if you like,” he said gruffly.

Tears stung her eyes. She hadn't really been in any state the day before during her crying jag to analyze why she was crying, but she'd had plenty of time since to think about it. In her subconscious mind, she'd known she had to go, and she didn't want to worse than she'd ever felt that way. For the first time in her life she'd found acceptance and real affection.

She sniffed. “I wish you could,” she whispered. “I'd like that."

His arms tightened again for a moment. He settled his cheek on the top of her head. “What's wrong, Hummingbird?"

Her chin wobbled. She fought another round with her tears. She wanted to let go and just cry her heart out, but she couldn't afford to. It had been bad enough that she'd yielded to the weakness the day before, but she
had
been weak and that had made it excusable. It could be put down to no more than that. If she kept on, there was no way she was going to convince them she wanted to go.

For that matter, they weren't going to understand how she could cling one moment and push them away the next. She needed this, though, too much to give up the comfort it gave her. “I'm just glad you're alright. I was so afraid when the shooting started."

"You should have stayed put like you were told,” he said, a note of anger in his voice now. “None of us wanted to do that to you, but we wanted to keep you safe. I felt like beating your ass myself. I've never been more scared in my life than when you burst out there like that. And then, when you didn't wake up...."

He stopped abruptly. From the sudden tension she felt in him, she knew he was wrestling with his temper. Irritation flickered through her that they were all so determined to treat her like a child—to their minds, she supposed, the ‘weaker’ sex—but she tamped it. Their high-handedness went with the territory. As Julie had pointed out, they were aggressive, domineering man to the core. They were strong, decisive, authoritative, and protective. If they weren't convinced they knew best, they couldn't make decisions they needed to. She could argue forever and it wasn't going to shake their conviction that they knew best and could do a better job at everything that fell in the traditional ‘man role'. “I was afraid for y'all. Don't you understand that I wanted to protect all of you as much as you wanted to protect me? As much as I love you for wanting to fight my battles for me, how could I live with it if anything had happened to any of you?"

He eased away from her and looked down at her. There was still anger in his eyes, but there was tenderness, as well. “I love you, too, Hummingbird,” he said huskily, and then his lips curled faintly. “We'll discuss—later—who does the protecting around here."

Firmly, if reluctantly, he pulled away. Getting up, he moved the tray to her knees and then settled in the chair by the bed. “Right now I want you to eat so that you'll get your strength back. I don't know what you did out there, but I don't want you doing it again if you can't control it any better than that. As impressive as it was, you damned near expended
all
of your energy or you wouldn't have been nearly comatose for days."

She ate what she could but unfortunately it had gotten tepid while she'd been otherwise occupied and it hadn't been that appealing before. “I hope I can have real food before much longer,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “Consider it punishment for risking your pretty little neck."

She sent him a look of reproach, but she liked the ‘pretty’ part so she wasn't nearly as irritated as she might have been otherwise. “Dante said my animals were being taken care of,” she said tentatively.

"We removed them all to pack lands at the edge of town ... including your pregnant cow,” he added with a faint smile. “She seems very content with the new pasture.” He thought it over a moment. “And the damned cats, although we had a hell of a time catching them. They're not fond of lycans.” He shrugged. “None of the animals are too keen on the wolf blood, but especially the cats."

She stared at him blankly for a moment, wondering why it hadn't occurred to her that all of her animals had been restless from the moment they'd arrived. Wryly, she had to admit she'd been far too preoccupied with the men herself to pay nearly as much attention to her animals as she generally did. “I hadn't thought about them being able to sense that,” she murmured finally. “I guess, mostly, because I just don't think of it myself—that you're lycans, I mean. At least that's one less thing to worry about,” she added.

She noticed he was studying her keenly. “You don't think of us as lycans?” he asked in a strange voice.

She looked at him worriedly. “Don't be mad. It's just ... not anything I think about. I know you are."

He studied her thoughtfully for several moments but finally seemed to dismiss it. “You don't need to worry about anything but getting better."

She couldn't argue with that, not without dredging up a subject she knew she couldn't discuss with him. “I'll need to put the place up for sale,” she added after a moment. “I can't go back there."

He frowned. “You're certain you want to sell it? You're right. You can't live there anymore, but you could still keep it for visits from time to time."

She smiled wryly instead of telling him she never went back once she'd moved on. “No. I think I'll sell it."

"I'll let Dante know. He can go ahead and get that started for you."

She bit back her irritation with an effort. There was no reason to object beyond the way they had of going about things. She'd made the decision to sell it herself. It didn't really matter whether Dante handled it or not. In fact, she'd just as soon not handle it herself because it gave her a pang to let it go and also because she needed to distance herself from the property in every way as quickly as possible. She was going to have to come up with a new identity, too. That was going to be rough. She'd been Shilo McKenzie for years now. It was going to be hard getting used to being someone else.

She was getting old, she reflected morosely. Change hadn't bothered her so much when she was younger.

She merely nodded at Maurice's suggestion instead of informing him that she was used to making her own decisions and handling her own affairs.

When she'd finished eating what she could, Maurice took the tray from her and set it on the bedside table again, then joined her on the bed and dragged her into his embrace. She tipped her heard back to meet his questing lips as they skimmed along her cheek, sighing with pleasure as the heat of his mouth melded with hers. Heated desire blossomed inside of her instantly as he made love to her mouth first in a languid quest to reacquaint himself with the tender cavern of her mouth and then with growing urgency that had Shilo's body in an uproar.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and tucked her against his chest. Disappointed as she was to have it end, she knew she wasn't really up to anything more at the moment.

"I suppose you realize you've wreaked havoc with our schedule,” he murmured with amusement. “Kane and Jessie are fit to be tied and can't be allowed around you at all at the moment—because
we
don't trust them to contain themselves. They'd just settled it between them who would be next, because, of course, their ranking is the same, and now both are convinced they'll be bumped because Dante and I have asserted our dominance."

Shilo tensed at that. She'd already figured out what they had in mind, but it was one thing to think she knew and another matter entirely to have Maurice lay it out as calmly as if everything had already been decided upon. To their minds, she supposed it had. She was torn between amusement that they thought they could arbitrarily make all of her decisions for her and irritation for the same reason. She also couldn't deny an urge to just ‘go with the flow’ and allow it. It disturbed her how much she wanted to yield up all the independence she'd valued for so long.

He misinterpreted the look on her face when he pulled away. Smiling, he flicked a careless finger along her nose. “Don't worry, Hummingbird. Dante and I know you're in no condition at the moment for any romping. They'll behave or we'll beat the hell out of both of them. It'll be easier on all of us once we get the hang of this. We've all been lone wolves too long. But we'll do right by you. Don't doubt that for a moment.

"Dante's figuring on building on the new tract. I wasn't too keen on the idea myself, but I know you'll enjoy being closer to your pets, and we'll need a bigger place once the pups come along. I hope you don't mind the thought of having a half a dozen. I'd like two myself and I'm beta so, although I'm next in line, there's still Jessie and Kane, and then, of course, the alpha, so...."

He must of seen something in her expression that pierced his happy recital of the future they'd already planned for her—without discussing it with her or even apprising her of the ‘plan'.

"One would do.” He kissed her forehead and got up, taking the tray. “We've got years to decide that,” he added a little uncomfortably. “I'll leave you to rest."

Shilo watched his departure with a mixture of outrage, horror, and, insanely, happiness. She'd never dared even allow herself the thought of having a family. She'd hoped, desperately, that she could somehow manage to have one baby, though she'd chastised herself for even considering it when she had to live as she did.

But ... six!

And where in the hell had they gotten the idea that it was settled anyway? How had things gone from casual sex to mommy, four daddies, and a gaggle of babies? She damned sure didn't recall anyone
asking
her! Clearly, though, not only was she expected to share herself with all four—which she'd already figured out—but
not
casually, commitment wise, family wise. She supposed she should have expected it. She hadn't been around Julie long, but Julie had been very forthcoming about pack customs and behavior and the way the pack community lived.

She'd been a little shocked even though she was barely familiar with human ideas about family, but she'd also been envious of the closeness they all shared—something she hadn't even experienced with the pseudo-siblings she'd grown up with in the group, and she'd been warmed by the genuine affection she'd seen in all of them for their pups. Even Dante, Maurice, Jessie, and Kane had been openly affectionate with the brood in Julie's household, though Julie had assured her that they'd not only not fathered any of the children, they were lone wolves and none of them had ever mated. And it had seemed the pups were just as affectionate in return, making it clear the men spent a good bit of time with them.

Somehow, though, despite the fact that she wasn't lycan, they seemed to think they'd mated with her. She just didn't know how they'd arrived at that conclusion.

She couldn't just shake it off. She tried. A part of her was intrigued, wanted to dismiss all of the very real impediments to such a thing and grab what was offered with both hands. It was too much of a good thing. It boggled her mind to even think about anything like that in the long term, but she'd made do her entire life, had less than what she wanted. Nothing was ever perfect. There was always a down side. If things had been different, she would've loved to give it a try.

She couldn't consider it, though. She had to accept that there were only two paths her life could take, alone and free, or caged. Living with the pack wasn't an option.

It was bad enough she'd, somehow, led disaster to their door. She had to lead it away again before it cost them more than she was willing to allow. It warmed her that they seemed to care for her. She hadn't had time to accept or fully appreciate the gift Dante had given her, but it was more than she'd dared dream she might have—a baby, when she was almost too old now to consider having one. It was sickening to think it wouldn't get the chance to know its father. He was a wonderful man.