Wolver's Reward (26 page)

"Look at him, Rebecca. He's pale, but no
longer gray. He's weak, but no longer dying. He can heal. I'm sure
of it, but he needs time and rest to do it. Your wolver gave us
that and while I may not approve of him in other ways, I'm grateful
to him for this. You'll tell him that won't you? Tell him I'm
grateful."

As if the words drained the last of her
strength, Margaret closed her eyes and swayed with dizziness. She
reached for her daughter's shoulder, but Reb ducked beneath the
shaking hand, and with her arm around her mother's waist, supported
her weight.

"I must be getting old."

"Nonsense, Mother, you're barely
forty-five."

"Perhaps, but I have heard that age is a
state of mind and my mind has aged considerably these last few
weeks."

"Nonsense. It hasn't aged. You're just worn
out with worry and you need time and rest, too. You've been through
a lot these last few weeks. I should have been there to help, to
listen, and to share what I can, but we can talk about that
tomorrow. For now, let's get your nightgown and get you ready for
bed."

"When did the tables turn?" Margaret's laugh
was weak. "When did the mother become the cub?"

"When the cub finally decided it was time she
grew up."

Margaret insisted she share the bed with her
Alpha as she had every night since she was mated. Tucking the
covers up under her mother's chin, Reb leaned in for a goodnight
kiss. Her mother held her there with a hand to her cheek.

"Don't tell River I'm grateful. Tell him
instead that his debt is paid. Three lives for three lives.
Kindness for kindness. Tell him I speak for the Mates. Tell him
they taught him well."

Reb wanted to ask what her mother meant, but
Margaret's eyes were already closed.

Darla was waiting up front, the couch already
converted to the bed she'd shared with Reb up until the night
before.

"Go on. I'll keep watch over them. You go
find your wolver." She winked and shimmied her shoulders. "He needs
you more than they do."

If he did, he wasn't going out of his way to
show it.

River wasn't in the room, though someone had
been. Not only were all signs of her father's surgery gone, the bed
was made with covers turned back like a fancy hotel, Lawrence's
work, no doubt. A foil wrapped heart sat in the center of each
pillow. Celia had shared her chocolate stash.

The flowers had to be from Rosemary, though
where she'd found the daisies was a mystery. She always managed to
find them and would quietly sit with a dreamy look on her face,
plucking the petals off.

"He loves me. He loves me not," Reb said
aloud.

It was long past midnight, and if she was
wise, she'd eat both the chocolate hearts and go to bed. But she
wasn't wise, she was worried, so turning off the lights and closing
the door behind her, she set off to find River.

She didn't have to go far. About a half mile
up the road, she saw him standing in the shadows of the trees, a
silhouette looming in the darkness. Moonlight and starlight, along
with the movement of the light breeze through the leaves, combined
to distort the dark image, but there was no mistaking what it
was.

Reb started to run.

"Shame on you, you naughty wolf," she called
softly into the night, loud enough for him to hear, but not loud
enough to carry far. She wanted to sound stern, but she couldn't.
She was too relieved. "You're lucky I know how to keep a secret.
How would it look to the others if my father's Champion disobeyed
his order on his first day on the job?"

With the wind at her back, he'd caught her
scent first and his head was turned toward her. She couldn't see
the shape of it, but she saw the glint of teeth in the wolf's grin.
She saw the yellow eyes shining in the dark face.

Reb stopped running.

River's eyes were brown.

The wolf stalked forward and now that it was
moving, she could see that it didn't have River's easy grace. The
shape was wrong, too. The wolf wasn't River.

And neither was the one she caught in her
peripheral vision, moving in a wide arc to her right. She turned
her head to see this new threat more clearly. Her movement
triggered theirs. They were found out and stealth was no longer
needed. They charged.

Reb opened her mouth to scream, but no sound
came out as a third wolf charged in from the left. She dove for the
ground as it leapt straight at her and over her to ram the closest
wolf. Scrambling the few feet to the verge of the road, she crawled
into the ditch and ignoring the water at the bottom, curled into a
ball with her hands on her head and her arms shielding her
face.

This position lasted for only the few moments
it took for her to catch her breath and then she was up on hands
and knees peeking over the edge of the ditch.

Attacked from two sides, River whirled,
leapt, and slashed with a speed and agility that amazed her. Every
time she opened her mouth to call a warning, he spun to meet the
attack before the sound could leave her mouth. Each attempt by the
two attackers to position themselves in a coordinated attack, was
immediately thwarted. It was as if he understood their intent
before they did.

Reb quickly decided that any attempt at
warning could prove more a distraction than help. She bit her
knuckle to keep herself from crying out.

River's defense wasn't perfect. How could it
be when it was two against one? The three came together in a
tangled ball of spinning bodies and slashing teeth. Reb's knuckle
couldn't prevent her short, sharp cry when a line of blood appeared
on River's flank. Her instinct was to run to River's aid and fight
beside him, but she fought the urge. She would only be in his
way.

Rather than make him wary, the wound
increased his fury. The three broke apart, but instead of using the
momentary release to position himself for the next attack, River
dove at the attacker on his right. This left no time for the wolf
to defend. A slash to the hind leg, a mid-leap turn, another slash,
this time to the throat, and the wolf was down.

Opposing sides now even and thus sealing its
fate, the remaining attacker turned and ran. Reb thought that would
be the end of it, but she was wrong. The enraged River took off
after the fleeing wolf. In seconds, he closed the distance, leapt,
and brought the fleeing wolver down.

The whole fight had taken only minutes. In
the eerie silence that followed, it occurred to Reb that the snarls
and growls of the battle only came from the others. River's wolf
never made a sound.

Reb leapt from the ditch and started to run
toward the magnificent red wolf. Man or beast, she needed to touch
him, hold him, kiss him, thank him, she wasn't sure which. She only
knew she needed to be near him. She needed his presence and
reassurance that it was over and done, and he was all right.

A bright flash of light brought River home to
man. He was naked and he wiped his mouth with his forearm before
turning to face her. Shoulders slightly hunched, head hanging low,
he stalked toward her. Some primal instinct made her wary of his
stance. Reb stopped a few feet away. River kept coming.

He grabbed her by the shoulders much tighter
than before. His eyes flared with the remnant of his wolf. His
voice was a low and angry snarl. "What the fuck do you think you're
doing wandering out here alone in the dark?"

And then he did the oddest thing.

Chapter 20

He kissed her.

Of all the stupid, jackassed things he could
do, he kissed her. Hard and deep, as if he could swallow her whole,
which he gladly would have done if it would keep her safe.

River was furious with her and he'd meant the
question he'd asked and given her no time to answer. Damn it to
hell, what was she thinking? When he'd seen her walking up the
middle of the road without a care in the world, like she was taking
a Sunday afternoon stroll, for crissake, his wolf went wild. As if
that wasn't bad enough, when she saw the wolf ahead of her, she
waved. Instead of turning around and running for her life, she
called out and fucking waved!

He should be up in her face, screaming
instead of deep throating her with his tongue. His hands ran over
her body, face, hair, back, and down to her ass. He ripped the
shirt from her pants in his need to feel her skin. His hands needed
to touch her everywhere. Everywhere. He wanted his scent on her. He
wanted to mark her as his, inside and out. He wanted to send a
message to any wolver who looked her way. Touch her and you die.
Think about touching her and you die.

Arms around her, pressing her to him, he
couldn't get her close enough and she had to feel the same way. Her
hands used his shoulders for leverage to pull herself up his body.
Hands at her ass, he lifted her until her legs wrapped his waist.
Her hands left his shoulders to weave into his hair. She gripped it
by the handful, forcing his mouth to remain on hers, but that
wasn't enough and she left his mouth so she could cover his eyes
and cheeks and nose with kisses.

"Oh, River, River," she whispered over and
over as if his name held magic.

He buried his face in her neck, kissing and
tonguing the vulnerable spot where it met her shoulder, the spot
where he would sink his teeth were they to mate.

"
Mate
."

Brought back to reality by his wolf's
warning, River kept his lips against the soft spot and repeated his
question. "Damn it, Babe, what the fuck did you think you were
doing wandering out here alone in the dark?"

So sure of the support she would find in his
arms, Reb leaned back so she could see his face. She placed her
hands on his cheeks. "Looking for you, silly. What else would I be
doing. I was worried." She curled up and kissed his nose, flirty
and affectionate. "And the word is fudge."

"I'll give you fudge," he growled, but before
he could start on a lecture about stupid women, Reb wrapped her
legs tighter around him and wriggled against his belly.

"I wish you would," she told him. "I like
your brand of fudge."

He laughed, but her words and the short break
in their groping interlude brought back his awareness of where they
were and what still needed to be done. Duty and responsibility
sucked. He forced her to unlock her legs and stood her on the
ground.

"Sorry Babe, no time. There are things to be
taken care of. We don't want some before-the-crack-of-dawn farmer
to come tooling up the road and get an eyeful."

Reb giggled, misunderstanding his reference,
but sobered when her eyes landed on the dead wolf in the road.

"Come on, we have to move."

He took her hand and led her to a spot not
far off the road where he'd left his clothes.

"I've got to go back, tell them what
happened, and get some help," he told her while he dressed.

"What did happen, River? Why were the two of
them here?"

She followed him back the way they'd come.
"Not two, three. The other's about a mile up the road near where
they parked their truck. That's why I went over the moon. I was
hunting them, not disobeying the Alpha."

They reached the first dead wolf, River bent
to grab its legs to drag it to the ditch. It wasn't perfect, but it
would be enough to hide it from the less observant passerby.

Reb bent and grabbed the other set of legs.
She turned her head and wouldn't look at it, but she held on and
lifted.

"I'm not as delicate as I look. Skinny and
pale doesn't mean weak. I grew up in a sheltered community, so yes,
I know I'm..."

"A Babe-in-the-woods."

"Fine," she said with a little huff and a
groan when she realized dead weight was just that. "I admit it. I
am, but that's ignorance, not weakness, and that won't change if
everyone keeps protecting me. So, stop avoiding my questions. Who
are they and what do they want?"

"Sniff." River nodded at the body.

"Excuse me?"

"Take a whiff. Tell me what you smell."

She did, wrinkling her nose and making a
face. "Dead wolver?"

River wasn't particularly surprised. Like
sight and hearing, a wolver's sense of smell was more acute than a
full blooded human. Thousands of smells bombarding your nose, and
therefore your brain, could be overwhelming. Wolvers learned to
ignore what wasn't deemed important.

"That's part of it. Now take it in again and
this time, memorize everything beyond the dead part."

Reb did as she was told, though he could tell
she didn't like it. She liked it even less when they tossed the
body into the ditch.

"Well?"

He led her to the next carcass. "Sniff.
Separate out the odor they have in common. Other than being dead,"
he added.

"Ha, ha," she said, unamused. She bent, took
a deep breath through her nose, thought for a moment, and did it
again.

"Search your memory, Reb. It's in there."

"Oh my god, River, it's Donavan. I smell
Donavan." At his nod, she added. "He wants the money."

He answered while tossing that body in the
ditch. "No, Reb. Donavan wants you."

Reb jogged along beside him, heading back to
the motel. "Well he can't have me. He lost. He lost the money and
he lost the Chase. It's as simple as that. He had no right to send
those men. No right at all."

"Donavan didn't lose, Reb. He killed Dennis.
Martin ran. Donavan was the last Alpha standing. He won, and as far
as he's concerned, he's coming to collect what's his."

"Donavan didn't win. He didn't." That her cry
was whispered made it no less desperate. "He broke the
contract."

"Monsters don't care about contracts. They
don't care about promises or about being fair. All they care about
is what they want and what Donavan wants is you. He doesn't care
how he gets you, or what condition you're in when he gets you, as
long as he gets you. You were his before he signed that contract.
That piece of paper was just a way to get in the door. The money
was a bonus."