Read Lone Wolf Dawn (Alpha Underground Book 2) Online
Authors: Aimee Easterling
I didn’t think my mate had re-experienced the same lowlights of his life that I’d just consumed because his muscles were relaxed and his voice steady. But it didn’t matter if Hunter was currently hurting or had just been hurting in the past. Either way, I wanted to do what I could to make one part of his life, at least, bright and rich with promise.
“Okay,” I repeated before elaborating on my plan. “We’ll pool our resources, buy the pack some territory, and make our stand right here.”
I paused, waiting for my mate’s eyes to open and his gaze to meet my own. Then I poked him in the chest as I finished adamantly: “But we’re getting our own house. I’m sick and tired of being quiet.”
Not that we had another chance to be quiet for a good long while. “Clothes,” Hunter said curtly, waking me from a half-doze by flinging a pair of panties atop my face.
I would have taken him to task for rudeness if I hadn’t heard the exact same thing that had spurred my mate’s abrupt absconsion from our shared bed—a stampede of human and lupine feet racing up the stairs toward us. My clan members had seen me naked multiple times before, but somehow I didn’t want to be caught unclothed beside Hunter this morning...not with my mother in the house and liable to walk in at any moment.
I’d barely tugged on the last item of apparel when the door flung itself open, Ginger’s smug face and the bobby pin in her hand explaining the failure of the lock’s promised solitude. Immediately, a sea of shifters surged inside, led by Cinnamon’s red-tinted wolf and then flanked by his two-legged sister. They all leapt directly onto the bed I’d so recently abandoned, the whole mass of beings proceeding to hassle and jostle for space.
“Hey!” Ginger complained as she was squeezed out, ending up in a heap on the floor. The young woman stood and grabbed her brother’s ruff, shaking him half-seriously. “No more taking my spot.”
“You should be thanking him,” Glen interrupted, striding into the room with a tray of breakfast goodies in one hand. My stomach called out an exuberant welcome at the sight, but I made myself respond to my second’s words instead.
“Ginger should be thanking Cinnamon for pushing her out of the bed?”
“Well, we should
all
be thanking him,” Glen clarified. “I gather that’s why Ginger was awake and able to lug Lia out of the burning building yesterday—because her brother rolled over and nudged her onto the floor.” My second’s words were light, but his dark eyes acknowledged the seriousness of the occasion at the same time that they sent a silent thank-you to me and Hunter for our part in the rescue operation.
So that means the second breakfast is mine?
Cinnamon’s words slid down the pack bond and I found my lips quirking upward into a smile. Trust the male twin to be more interested in his belly than in being a hero...or in worrying about our recent brush with death.
“I’m pretty sure you already ate an entire horse,” Lia countered, slipping in the open doorway behind her pack mate with a second laden tray in her arms. She handed the offering to Hunter, who immediately began to shovel the contents into his mouth.
I figured that meant the first tray was for me, but I had a hard time directing my attention away from the other shifters in the room long enough to lift a fork. The entire clan appeared bright-eyed and bushy-tailed despite last night’s adventures...many literally so. And when I counted heads, I was pretty sure that even the final bloodling Hunter had abandoned when I drifted into unconsciousness was present and accounted for.
He escaped before the walls came down
, my mate confirmed, surveyed the tangle of lupine limbs with pride. I couldn’t blame him for the hint of hubris that filtered through, either. The uber-alpha had adeptly transformed twenty-plus potential detonation threats into viable shifters, and he must have talked the rogues into accepting my original pack mates as members of their clan this morning as well.
Because, yes, Ginger had found a spot for herself on the bed and was rubbing one bloodlings’s belly even as another settled across her lap. No growls or territorial disputes were evident now that everyone had found a spot to stretch out.
My own ward wasn’t nearly as well socialized, but at least she hadn’t taken to her heels again either. Lupe sidled through the doorway as if the inanimate object might bite her in the butt, looking less than pleased at being stuck in a small room with way too many werewolves.
I attempted to send a surge of sympathy in her direction, but the young woman’s brain was resolutely locked down and her upper lip remained raised in what was likely a combination of both annoyance and challenge. Before I could either take her to task or soothe her ruffled fur, though, my mother’s entrance turned my mind away from the resistant rogue.
“You have a visitor,” Celia announced. She spoke to the room at large, but her gaze locked down on me like a self-guided missile that was just itching to explode.
She had every reason to explode, too. Yes, we’d managed to pull her out of the burning building before it collapsed last night...but I was pretty sure there never would have been any flames in the first place if werewolves hadn’t shown up on her doorstep.
I opened my mouth to beg forgiveness but found I couldn’t quite make myself speak a single word. Instead, my hands shook and my weakened legs forced me to lean back against the wall for support. My stomach clenched into a knot so intense that the tray of food Glen had offered me no longer looked appealing...which was saying something since my intestines appeared to have given up on my mouth and instead settled for gnawing their way directly to the bacon and eggs via a straight line through my belly button.
Hunger aside, my current agony was ten times worse than the childish angst I’d experienced when Hunter had first pushed me toward creating a relationship with this small but steely woman the previous week. Then, I’d thought Celia was a greedy one-body with no sense of pack or family. Yes, I’d been afraid she’d hurt my feelings by tossing me aside just like she’d done a dozen years earlier. But my own sense of superiority had promised to protect me from the full brunt of that seemingly inevitable event.
Now, on the other hand, I understood Celia a little better...and was far more afraid of being ejected from her life as a result. I’d since learned that my mother’s absence from my childhood had been, if not entirely selfless and commendable, then at least justifiable. And the more I saw myself in her actions and glimpsed true affection in her eyes, the more I knew I’d begun to forge a relationship more valuable than any other save the bond I now shared with the uber-alpha who had become my mate.
In short, I was willing to do what it took—up to and including groveling—to keep this petite but powerful one-body in my life. But I still couldn’t force my clenched teeth to open long enough to get the words out.
Which was just as well because another human stepped into the room behind my mother and immediately stole center stage.
***
Robert’s broad shoulders filled the frame of the doorway, his close-cropped hair brushing the lintel. But it was his eyes more than his bearing that announced “cop.” His gaze flicked across the jumble of furry and furless limbs atop the bed, assessing, analyzing, determining the level of threat.
The agent’s right arm reached across his belly and under the lapel of his suit jacket and I tensed, expecting the bulging gun beneath his armpit to make an appearance. But, instead, he merely pulled paper out of an inside pocket and held the sheet out into the open air.
“Sorry I wasn’t there early enough to be much help last night,” he said simply. “But maybe this will make up for my lapse.” Then he waited like a good Samaritan holding out a crust of bread for a starving dog, letting the animal make the first advance toward a potential future partnership.
I bit. Well, not literally since I was neither dog nor wolf at the present moment. But I
did
step forward, leaving my pack behind and accepting the slip of paper that fluttered in the breeze of the ceiling fan.
A few lines of text, a modicum of fancy scrollwork at the top, an indented notary’s seal at the bottom. My brain took a couple of seconds to kick in and identify the offering as a birth certificate for Lupe. Then I did some quick mental calculations and found that Robert had fudged on the teenager’s date of birth, making the rogue eighteen—the age of human autonomy.
“I figured it was the simplest way to close the missing person’s case,” Robert said in answer to my questioning look. “Since Lupe is obviously no longer missing.”
The rogue glanced back and forth between us. Then she strode forward jerkily, snatching the paper out of my hand without bothering with human niceties like “please” and “thank you.”
She read the words with an effort, her lack of traditional schooling slowing down her own epiphany. Eventually, though, understanding illuminated the girl’s eyes and virtual rose petals fell from the ceiling like confetti as Lupe basked in her newfound independence.
That gratitude lasted for only a split second, though, before she glared at me. “Don’t think this means I’m turning into your lackey like those losers,” she muttered, glancing behind her at the rogues happily ensconced atop the bed.
“We can figure out the specifics later,” I acknowledged, not wanting to press the point. I’d called the hospital before collapsing the previous evening and found that Nina was stable and likely to be released within twenty-four hours. Lupe might choose to move in with her favorite teacher after that, helping the single parent through her late pregnancy and early motherhood while Nina continued to introduce the rogue to her human world.
Or perhaps the young woman would stay here after all, finding camaraderie with the other bloodlings who had spent their childhood on four paws. Either way, I’d insist that the rogue submit to regular lessons in shifter-hood. That, plus her well-developed spine, would ensure Lupe landed on her feet despite the upset caused by recent changes in her life.
Future efforts aside, n
o longer having to hide Lupe from her state-mandated guardians was a huge weight off my shoulders. Still,
I remained edgily aware of the FBI agent’s continued presence. Robert appeared to be handling the array of predators sprawled across the room as well as could be expected, his posture now relaxed and his stance open. Yet the very fact that he’d come bearing gifts kept me on high alert. I couldn’t help thinking the one-body wanted something in exchange.
“What about the incriminating evidence you have on tape?” I asked, cutting straight to the punch.
“I showed the videos to my boss this morning,” Robert began, only to be drowned out by a cacophony of lupine growls and snarls.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the true danger in the room long enough to make sure the wolves were under control, but Hunter must have done something behind my back because the room abruptly went silent. Despite the lack of complaints, though, the air nearly vibrated with tension.
“You showed your boss?” I tried not to sound as scandalized as I felt. After all, I’d thought the one-body and I were on the same page. Clearly I’d been deluding myself.
“I showed my boss,” Robert confirmed. “And he suggested that I offer you a job. Well, not a full-time, butt-in-cubicle job like mine.” His face opened into a grin as his eyes sparkled. “But a consulting gig. To help us figure out what’s going on if we suspect a case might have supernatural elements. To tell us who we can call if we find a shifter gone bad. Because apparently werewolves police their own...and we’re good with that.”
Now I did turn away, my gaze meeting Hunter’s on the other side of the room. Yes, for better or for worse, werewolves
did
police their own. Whether my mate and I remained on the kosher side of that shifter law remained to be seen.
“Well?” Robert said after my silence had stretched out a little too long. “Are you interested?”
Expectant eyes bored into mine from the bed, from armchairs, from people leaning against the walls. Shifters whose wolves were ten times stronger waited patiently for me to speak. A one-body woman who had no reason to trust me smiled encouragingly in my direction. And a mate who was used to taking control ceded the floor, allowing me to make the decision that would change the course of all of our lives.
Looks like it’s time to put on my big-girl panties and act like an alpha after all.
I took a deep breath and turned back around to face the FBI agent.
In the end, it wasn’t such a tough choice to make. Robert wasn’t a pack mate, but he
was
solid and his heart seemed to be in the right place. My pack could hardly ask for a better ally in the struggle that lay ahead.
“Okay,” I offered at least. “If that’s what it takes to keep werewolves safe, then I’ll do it.”
“Okay, time for you all to find something else to do. My daughter and I have things to discuss.”
Celia clapped her hands together authoritatively, and everyone up to and including the FBI agent and rogue bloodlings immediately obeyed her command. Only Hunter hung back, my trepidation gluing him to my side in a gallant gesture I couldn’t quite muster the energy to dismiss.
My mother looked back and forth between us, her gaze eventually settling on the clasped hands that I hadn’t even realized had jerked together as if magnetized as soon as my mate drifted within my reach. Her eyes narrowed and I got the distinct impression she was preparing to give the uber-alpha the third degree, as if he was the first boyfriend her teenage daughter had ever brought home.
Well, I wasn’t a teenager, but I guess Hunter
was
the first boyfriend I’d ever brought home. I couldn’t help chuckling inwardly at the thought.
Still, I would have been literally trembling in my boots if Ginger had allowed me time to pull on said footwear before bursting into my bedroom in the first place. In contrast, Hunter was taking his role as protector seriously, looming over my mother and applying that piercing glare that generally turned both shifters and humans alike into puddles of jelly.
I’m not sure which response did the trick. But whatever the impetus, Celia shrugged rather than lectured then walked around us to pull the door shut. “I guess Hunter can stay,” she said as she passed us by.
“I didn’t ask for permission,” my mate ground out.
“Well, you get it anyway,” my mother countered. Then, patting the bed as she sank down on one end, she commanded: “Sit.”
I complied, mostly because I wasn’t so sure how much longer my legs would hold me up in the face of my mother’s steely determination. Then, before Hunter could snarl a retort or Celia could embark upon whatever topic she had in mind, I dove into my much-delayed apology.
“I’m sorry about everything,” I told her, finding a speck of dirt on the carpet to focus on since I seemed to be physically incapable of meeting my mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry about dragging dozens of half-feral shifters onto your doorstep. I’m sorry about making you lie to your neighbors and invent a dog-rescue operation to cover for us. And I’m sorry about making you lose the home you worked so hard to create.”
The room remained ominously silent. Hunter hadn’t seated himself on command, instead remaining by my side as I perched beside Celia on the edge of the mattress. Now, his warm palm settled on my shoulder, imbuing me with the strength I needed in order to continue.
“But I want to make it up to you,” I went on. “Hunter and I are going to buy some land here in Arborville, make a place for us and our pack.”
Although, now that I said the words aloud, I suddenly saw the gaping flaw in our plan. Not just the fact that Celia might not want us settling in her backyard, but also the general issue of finances.
Money had been remarkably easy to come by for the last month because Hunter’s Tribunal credit card paid for all and sundry. On the other hand, now that my mate’s job was up in the air and his relationship with Stormwinder hovered halfway between bad and worse, I wasn’t so sure how we’d feed ourselves in the near future. Building a clan home from scratch would be quite a feat under those circumstances.
Never mind. We’ll make it work somehow.
And I realized now how important it was to me for the plan to work
with
Celia rather than without her. So I forced my chin to cant upwards and my eyes to meet the same-colored orbs eighteen inches distant as I turned apology into plea. “I was hoping you might want to live there too,” I finished, my voice more squeak than whisper.
Celia’s brow was furrowed, her lips pursed, and I couldn’t quite resist the sinking sensation that developed in the pit of my stomach at the sight. The digestive organ in question was definitely getting a workout this morning—too bad I’d never managed to put any food in my mouth before all the drama erupted. Because from the expression on my mother’s face, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to force sustenance past the tightness in my throat in the near future either.
“Fen...” she began.
I hunched my shoulders, bracing for the verbal blow that I knew was bound to come. Beside me, Hunter bristled and I abruptly wished I’d sent him out of the room with the rest of the pack. Because I didn’t think I could handle the pity that would soon enter my mate’s eyes...and I also didn’t want to have to physically restrain the uber-alpha to prevent him from assaulting my mother if she said something truly unkind.
Which, I had to admit, Celia had every right to say. After all, I’d come into her life uninvited and had proceeded to bring her perfect world down in a shambles about her ears.
We
were
invited
, my wolf countered.
Okay, so maybe we’d technically been summoned to the cemetery...but no one could twist the truth enough to say that this eventuality was what my mother had in mind when she’d sent a funeral announcement to my old address last month. I turned my head away so I wouldn’t have to watch her face go hard, a lone tear welling up in each of my own eyes. I shouldn’t have opened my heart in the first place if I wasn’t ready to accept the possibility of having it broken.
“Fen,” my mother continued before I could act upon any of the thoughts stampeding through my brain. “I don’t know what you think you have to apologize for. You saved my
life
. But more than that, you’ve given me something to live for. When I sent out that card, I wished you’d come. I dreamed I’d finally get to explain why I’d been such a deadbeat mom. But I never dared hope that you’d accept me as your parent.”
She paused long enough to pull me into a hug and I clutched her more slender frame to my chest in awe. I should have taken a hint from the way my wolf lay quiescent and contented within my skin. My animal half had a tendency to understand the emotional undercurrents of the room long before I did and her lack of dread should have held my own misgivings in check.
Told you so
, my wolf whispered into my shell-shocked brain.
“So you don’t want me to get out of your hair and leave you alone?” I asked a trifle damply into her shoulder.
Celia pushed me back gently so she could peer into my eyes. “Are you kidding me? I came up here to ask if you’d be willing to use your father’s life-insurance payment and my fire-insurance policy to settle down. Here in Arborville. With me.”
***
My mother’s experience as a real-estate agent came in handy over the next few days as she trolled through listings in search of the perfect home for our cobbled-together pack. For a while, though, I thought she’d gotten cold feet from the way she rejected each offering out of hand. One was too expensive, another too small, a third too remote.
Our rental house was starting to feel excessively cramped by this point, bursting at the seams as it was with dozens of unruly shifters. So I was glad to flee the premises when Celia showed up after work one evening with a big smile on her face. “I found it,” she said simply.
We piled into vehicles and followed her sporty car beyond the town limits, up through a series of winding foothills, and then down into a valley along a rutted gravel road. Finally, Celia eased to a halt in front of a ramshackle farmhouse at the base of a hillside peppered with what appeared to be a dozen small and medium-sized cottages.
“Rental cabins,” she said succinctly once we’d joined her outside. “The host family lived here in the main house, but they got old and let the place fall down around their ears. Their kids don’t want it, there aren’t enough tourists to make paying a staff worthwhile, and neither son nor daughter can stomach living in the sticks. Basically, the business is defunct.”
Car doors slammed shut behind us, lupine barks of excitement filled the air, and bloodlings spread out across the overgrown lawn. Several darted off into the trees and I had a sudden jolt of worry about neighbors with livestock and guns. “How big is the property?” I asked hurriedly.
My mother turned smug, like the cat who’d lapped up all of the cream. “A thousand acres.”
“A
thousand
?”
“It’s weedy second-growth timber, too young to be valuable. And the hillside is so steep the topsoil would erode away if you cut down the trees again.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The owners are pretty sure it’s worthless.”
I knew better than to think Celia would really rip off her clients, so I asked again just to be certain. “We can afford it?”
“We can afford it...with enough money left over to hire a construction crew to make the place livable.” My mother’s gaze drifted down to the hands that had once again clinched together between me and my mate. This time, she smiled at the gesture. “Go ahead. Take a look and see what you think.”
After walking through the farmhouse, I had to admit that the city-slicker owners were probably right. The place was ragged around the edges and would require plenty of elbow grease to keep us from falling through the floor or freezing our toes off in the winter. But I could easily envision the existing shell being turned into a community space where our pack could work and play together, the exuberant energy of young shifters unlikely to cause any more damage than time had already done.
The cabins were significantly better preserved. Mostly, though, I was drawn to their level of remoteness since each small structure was connected to the next via a series of tantalizing sylvan pathways. The distance in between was sufficient to keep shifter ears from picking up on neighbors’ conversations without causing pack-bound werewolf sensibilities to feel overly bereft.
Perfect.
It was only when the summer evening began to descend into night, though, that I knew we’d found home. Hunter and I sat on the porch of the topmost cabin, our legs dangling over the edge since the rocking chairs I could envision filling the space were notably absent. Before us, lightning bugs rose from the tall grasses, from the canopies of the nearby trees, and from the dim recesses beneath the overarching limbs. In the distance, hoots of laughter attested to our pack mates’ enjoyment of the freedom of vast open spaces, and I even caught a hint of my mother’s voice raised in song way down in the valley.
“What do you think?” Hunter asked at last, his voice a rumble of security that beat back the darkness of the approaching night. He was
still
grasping my fingers, and now he raised his own palm so he could press a kiss against the backside of my hand. The gesture sent a tremor of pleasure up my arm and down my spine.
“I think it’s perfect,” I admitted. “I think Celia will be happy here. I think our clan will be happy here. And I
know
I’ll be happy here. How about you?”
“I think this land and our pack suit each other to a T,” he answered, pulling me yet closer so my shoulder slipped into the warm cavity beneath his arm. I fit perfectly, like a round peg in a round hole.
I’d assumed my mate was finished speaking, and I was content to just sit together in silence and watch night fall over the land. But Hunter wasn’t done quite yet.
“We’re a bit ramshackle and we might look worthless from a distance,” he murmured. “But our bones are sturdy and our foundation is strong. I’m honored to be a part of your pack.”
Then together, the band in question—Hunter and I, a couple dozen rogue bloodlings, a pair of trouble twins, two steadfast pack mates, and my long-suffering mother—all sank our roots into the deep soil of our new clan home.
***
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Wolf Landing
, due out in fall 2016.
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