Wolf Claims His Pack (Salvation Pack: The Next Generation Book 3), page 4
“Can I sleep with you?” Eliza tugged on her hand.
“Of course, you can.” The girl’s world had been rocked tonight. All of them were dealing with their fears, but Bailey couldn’t admit to hers. She was the adult, the head of their little family. It was up to her to project calm and confidence, even if her legs felt more like jelly. “You go ahead. I’ll be a few minutes.”
After Eliza scampered off, she cleared the table, putting the glasses in the sink. As she’d expected, Emmett showed up five minutes later. “I’m going up into the blind.” It would do no good to argue, and honestly, she’d rest better if he was on watch.
“I’m going to try to catch a few hours. You can sleep when I’m up.” She hugged her brother, who was the same height as her and still growing. “Thank you.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “We’re in this together.” What they’d been through had bonded them in ways most people couldn’t begin to comprehend. She depended on him for so much, wished things could have been different for both of them, but was so glad to have him by her side.
She followed him outside, watching as he silently shimmied up the nearby tree and settled in. Unless you were searching and had keen vision, you’d never know he was there.
The sky was already growing lighter, the night animals shuffling back to their dens or hideaways, giving way to those who preferred the daytime. Something caught her eye. She hurried over and plucked it off the ground. It was Nicholas’s shirt. Clutching the soft fabric in her hands, she carried it inside, striding straight to the kitchen. She opened the lid of the garbage, holding the garment aloft.
“Damn it,” she muttered. The lid gave a thunk as it closed.
Eliza was already under the covers and curled into a tiny ball when Bailey entered the bedroom. She brought the shirt to her face and swallowed back a moan at the delicious scent of male and woods. Her nipples perked up, standing at attention. “Not happening.” She really should throw it out. It would serve him right for leaving it behind.
Swearing again, she opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, tossed it in, and closed it tight. She had enough to worry about without adding an attraction to a male wolf into the mix. It was nothing more than hormones. With four kids to look after, her social life was nil. That’s all it was, all it could be.
Ignoring the longings welling up inside her, she crawled into bed beside Eliza, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep, but a pair of golden eyes kept her awake a long time.
Chapter Four
The mistrust, the set-up of the business, and the location of her home all made sense now. Nicholas stood under the hot spray of the shower, hands pressed against the cool tile, head bent. Water pummeled the muscles in his back and shoulders, but they remained knotted and tense.
Bailey Smith was a half-breed werewolf, which meant the taller teen—who looked like her—probably was, too. The little girl was full-blooded. He’d been close enough to smell her wolf, even though she was too young to shift yet. The child’s boldness had shocked everyone. Bailey had gone pale, her fear palpable. As if he’d hurt a child.
He raised his head, grabbed the soap, and began to scrub.
Eliza’s need to be comforted by an older male wolf was understandable. They were a tactile species, like their wild counterparts. They needed one another, and touch was a part of daily life. Children, most especially, needed the reassurance of their acceptance. It was something every adult provided, at least in his pack.
The Salvation Pack was different than most. Any of the older males could be alphas in their own right. It was a wonder fights didn’t break out on a daily basis, but his father had never had to face a challenge—not from within. No, they all worked together to protect the family they’d built. His father often sought the opinions of his brother and friends, even if his final word was law.
He missed them, could have used some reassurance himself right about now—a hug from his mother, a pat on the back or shoulder squeeze from his father, the steadfast presence of his brother. The girl’s touch had calmed his wolf, grounding the beast. The last thing either of them had wanted to do was scare her.
Clean, he cranked off the water, grabbed one of the thin towels provided, and wrapped it around his waist after using it to dry off. Since he had no idea the next time he’d have the opportunity, he shaved. As he angled the razor over his chin, he noted his hair was long enough to hit his shoulders. It could use a trim.
When he was done, he rubbed a facecloth over his skin, wiping away the excess shaving cream. Humor lurked in his eyes as he tossed the cloth down and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His brother would never let him hear the end of it if he ever found out he was primping for a woman. Because that’s what he was doing.
“Suck it up, LaForge.” He dragged a brush through his hair and then dug around his shaving kit and came up with a thin piece of leather, using it to tie his hair away from his face. No time for a haircut. He’d already been away longer than he’d planned.
A short time later, dressed and packed, he sent the bed a longing glance before closing the door to the room behind him. He’d barely sat on the thing, let alone slept on it.
With his gear stowed and the bill settled, he swung by the grocery store long enough to add to his supplies before heading back toward Bailey and her small pack. The closer he got, the lighter he felt. Even better, there was no sign of the two idiots from last night. They likely weren’t out of bed yet, no doubt sleeping off last night’s adventure.
Whistling along to the old Garth Brooks song on the radio, he enjoyed the scenery. He’d been too focused last night to give it more than a cursory glance. It really was pretty country. The air blowing through the window was warm and fresh. There was little traffic out this way, so he could smell the surrounding trees and wildflowers in full bloom. A fat rabbit hopped along the side of the road before disappearing into the underbrush. Further on, a deer stood five feet back and munched on some leaves.
She’d picked a good place to settle. Close enough to a town that provided what she needed, but isolated from prying eyes.
The song ended and a new one began. He had several playlists on his phone, but he sometimes preferred to listen to the radio and catch the local news.
He turned off a ways from her driveway. No need to antagonize her further. With no way of knowing her property boundary, he might well be trespassing. “A risk I’ll have to take.”
The spot he’d found to park was far enough off the road that his truck wouldn’t be noticeable by passing traffic. After shutting off the radio, he killed the engine. It pinged as it cooled and everything inside him settled.
After locking up behind him and grabbing his knapsack, he began to hike toward a likely camping spot. While following the men last night, he’d noticed a narrow river not too far from the Smith homestead. It would do nicely for a home base.
Providing Bailey didn’t run him off with a rifle. He wouldn’t put it past her.
Smiling, he stopped near the edge of the water. It wasn’t deep. Would likely only come to his thighs. But that was deep enough for him to cool off in later. Desperate to see her again, he stashed his gear under some thick bushes, pulling some downed branches around it until it was hidden from view.
He wasn’t worried about any furry animals bothering it, not with his wolf scent on everything. No, it was the two-legged animals that concerned him.
Satisfied it was as secure as he could make it, he wiped his hands on the legs of his jeans and headed toward the farmhouse. After following the men in from the road last night, he had a fair idea where he was.
The shade from the tall oaks filtered the sun, allowing only small patches to break through here and there. He recognized maples, elms, chestnuts, birch, and walnut trees. He eyed several downed ones, wondering if Bailey would be open to selling them if this was her land. His pack would love to get their hands on it. Their custom furniture business was booming, the demand far outstripping what they produced.
He shoved aside the guilt that niggled. Him being gone was putting extra pressure on those left behind. Maybe he could make a small piece while he was here. He bet there were tools in Bailey’s forge, possibly even woodworking ones.
He’d missed working with his hands since he’d been on the road, the satisfaction that came from creating something. He and Bailey had that in common.
What was her story? How did a young woman become responsible for four kids? He doubted she was even his age. That was a hell of a lot of responsibility to shoulder.
He slowed as the roof of the house became visible through the trees. Leaning against a sturdy elm, he surveyed the area. Everything looked different in the light of day. The clang of metal against metal rang out from inside the forge. He’d love to watch her work, could easily imagine her sweat-soaked shirt sticking to her torso, molded to her breasts, her biceps flexing with each strike of the hammer on the heated metal, her red hair gleaming brighter than the fire in the forge.
Oh, yeah. Even better would be to help her clean up after a long day, washing every inch of her in the shower. His cock flexed in agreement. His wolf all but purred.
He’d have to win her trust first. That would not be easy. Being a full-blooded wolf was a strike against him.
Someone hurt her.
A low growl rolled out of his throat before he could stop it. The idea of someone harming her in any way angered him. He’d gladly hunt them down and eliminate them if that’s what she wanted. Any wolf that would harm women and children was in need of killing in his book.
Bailey and her family were genuinely afraid. That kind of terror couldn’t be faked. It was learned … the hard way.
A cow grazed in a fenced pasture not far from a small barn. A second one drank from a nearby trough. Chickens ran around inside an enclosed area with a nice-size coop. Voices carried from inside the house, filtering through the screened windows. That accounted for Bailey and the two youngest. Where were the older teens?
They were a suspicious and careful bunch, which meant at least one of them was likely on guard duty. But where?
Nicholas crouched low and began to scan, starting at ground level and moving steadily upward. They wouldn’t be far from the house.
Ten minutes later, his admiration for them grew when he spotted the hunting blind near the top of a tree. Cleverly hidden, it was big enough to contain one person.
His ears twitched as a slight sound caught his attention. Taking his time, he circled back, wishing he was in his wolf form, but that was too dangerous this time of day. The last thing any of them needed was some lone hunter shooting at him or maybe a tourist reporting a wolf sighting. Most experienced hunters wouldn’t bother with a lone wolf, knowing it would rather avoid people, but there were always idiots who thought shooting anything that moved was “fun.”
In the end, it didn’t matter. He’d grown up being hunted by and stalking some of the deadliest wolves alive. They’d trained him well. The boy was good, was more skilled than Nicholas had expected, but he was better.
He stepped out from behind a small outcrop of rocks and waited. Two seconds later, the boy whirled around, black eyes narrowed and a scowl on his face. “I told her you’d be back.”
“Good morning, Waya.” The teen was closing in on six feet, his bronzed skin, chiseled facial features, and straight black hair proudly proclaiming his ancestry. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but his feet were bare.
There was no sign of the rifle. That was a good thing … unless Emmett was waiting for him to step into range. Nicholas cast his senses outward, but he didn’t hear or smell anyone else nearby. He’d assumed Emmett was watching from the perch near the house, but he could be wrong.
“Why are you here? You aren’t welcome.”
“I’m camping.”
“You’re trespassing,” the boy shot back.
“Where’s your land boundary?”
The question threw the teen off, deepened his frown. “None of your business.”
“I can always check the land deeds at the town hall. I’ll set up camp beyond your borders.” He was goading Waya, but it was a way of testing the boy’s control. It would be tenuous at his age.
The muscles in the boy’s shoulders bunched, and he bent his knees, ready to attack. He issued a threatening growl, a challenge. His wolf was close to the surface, rippling under his skin.
Nicholas leaned against a nearby tree and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets, trying to be less of a threat. Fighting with the kid wasn’t on the agenda.
Footsteps, not as light as Waya’s, hurried toward them. A hint of lavender whispered on the breeze. Every cell in his body went on alert. His dick twitched, leaving no doubt who it was.
****
Bailey tossed a mangled piece of metal into the scrapheap and dropped her hammer onto the anvil. Tilting her head down, she huffed out a breath.
Damn the man. She’d spent the morning doing her best to forget about Nicholas LaForge, hammering her frustrations out on a piece of metal that should have become a decorative hook. That it was a design she’d done hundreds of times only added salt to the wound.
It was the second one she’d ruined in the last hour.
He was taking up way too much real estate in her brain, and that was after stealing her sleep. She had more important things to worry about than a man she’d never see again.
Emmett’s whistle filtered into the forge. He had a way of mimicking birdsong, but she recognized the signal. Someone was in the woods.
Heart pounding, she grabbed the rifle she’d propped up against her workbench and raced outside. Already halfway down the tree, he pointed off to his left.
“Stay here,” she whispered, knowing he’d hear her. They might be half-breeds, but they both had preternatural hearing and sight and were stronger than the average human.
“It’s him,” Emmett mouthed.
Giving him a curt nod, she slipped into the surrounding woods. Stealthily as possible, she made her way through the woods, but her prey wasn’t trying to hide. No, he was leaning against a tree, arms crossed, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
He looked even better in the full light of day than he had last night. Clean-shaven, dressed in another black T-shirt—like the one stashed in her dresser drawer—wearing a clean pair of jeans that clung to his muscled legs, he looked good enough to eat.
If she was attracted to him. Which she wasn’t.
And if her entire body hummed with appreciation at the sight of him, she’d simply ignore it.
He tilted his head slightly to his right.
The sight of Waya standing about thirty feet away made her breath seize in her lungs. Slipping the rifle over her shoulder, she strode toward him. “You’re supposed to be watching the kids. Go back to the house.”
Waya met her gaze in challenge. “I am watching out for them. I told you he’d be back. You should have been out here patrolling.”
Nicholas pushed away from the tree, his lips turned down in a frown.
Great, she didn’t need him to witness this. And having an audience would only make Waya dig in harder. The boy had been challenging her authority more and more lately, testing his limits and hers. Drawing herself up to her full height, she stared him down, letting her wolf rise up inside her. Half-breed she might be, but this was her pack. She said nothing, using silence to assert her authority.
Finally, he flinched and lowered his gaze. The silent battle won, she went to him and dragged him into her arms for a quick hug. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” she murmured in his ear. Like the others, he needed constant reminders that he was important and valued.
“I want us to be safe.” The tortured whisper almost broke her heart.
“We will be.” She shouldn’t promise something she might not be able to deliver, but she’d do everything in her power to make it happen. “You know what to do if necessary.” It was a reminder she was depending on him to take the younger ones and run in the event they were attacked. As a full-blooded wolf, he would be able to protect them better than Emmett could. “Take the rifle and go on back to the house. I’m going to talk to our visitor.” She slipped the weapon off her shoulder and made sure the safety was on before handing it to him. Her instincts were damn good, and she wasn’t getting a threatening vibe off him.
Waya glared at Nicholas one final time and stalked off.
Sighing, she smoothed her fingers over her hair, several strands of which had escaped the ponytail she’d fashioned this morning. “Why did you come back?”
His gaze flicked from Waya’s retreating back to her. The golden eyes had a feral glow. “He challenged you.”
She waved away his concern. “He’s a fifteen-year-old boy. Of course he challenged me.”
He rubbed his hand over his jaw—his smooth, square jaw. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“My family is my business.” The corners of his lips tightened, and his eyes narrowed slightly. Didn’t like that, did he? Too bad. Legs spread, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’ll be camping here for the foreseeable future.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Down by the river.”
“What? Why?” This wouldn’t do. “Mr. LaForge.”
“Nicholas.”
Getting familiar was dangerous. Bad enough the woodsy scent of his skin made her want to rub against it. Her wolf was attracted to his and wasn’t trying to hide it. When he raised a brow in challenge, she cursed herself even as she muttered, “Nicholas.”
“Not so hard, was it?”
He had no idea, and it had to stay that way. If he thought for one second she was weakening, he’d pounce. It was his nature. A predatory instinct. “I don’t know you. I don’t know why you’re trying to insinuate yourself into our lives, but the last thing I need is some male taking over and trying to tell me what to do. The two idiots in the parking lot yesterday suggested I needed a man. I don’t.”
