The pink summer sunset had long since faded to nightfall by the time Mae returned to her cottage on the other side of the Grey Wolf compound. As she approached home, she cringed at the thought of the poor excuse she’d given Alexander. There was no way he’d bought her lie. Sure, she and Maverick had scheduled Alexander for a meeting with the Pact, which was a small step forward, but if they didn’t get him on board and fast, their prospects were limited.
But Mae was determined. She would find a way to save her pack. She had to. Feeling more than a little defeated, she shuffled up to her door, scanning the other nearby pack cabins. Hers was one of many adjacent to the dining hall and the main compound building, which housed the elite warriors and the main pack offices. She grabbed her keys from her purse. As she did so, she glanced over her shoulder, as if she might find the Rebel lingering there in the darkness. But
she didn’t. He’d disappeared without a trace.
She released a long sigh. From what she knew of his dangerous reputation, it was just like the arrogant bastard to trod right into a pack of alphas that would just as soon see him torn apart. He really was a rebel with a devil-may-care attitude to match his title. She gripped her keys tighter in her hand.
After unlocking her front door, she slipped inside. Immediately, the sound of tiny hooves clopping against tile sounded from the darkness. She flicked on the
dim entryway light. Tucker, her teacup pig, stared up at her from the white tiled floor, his beady johnson eyes sparkling with pleasure at her arrival. He let out a pleased oink. Mae grinned.
Bending down, she scooped him into her arms, coddling him like a baby as she cooed at him. Still a piglet, Tucker was no bigger than a small dog, and according to the breeder, he’d been the runt of the teacup litter and would likely stay small.
With Tucker cradled against her, Mae made quick work of feeding him a bottle of milk replacer before snuggling him into his fluffy, pink dog bed in her living room. Once the piglet was rocked to sleep, she showered before she changed into her nightgown and settled into the comfort of her bedsheets. The day had left her worn out, but her mind refused to calm.
Had she really seen the Rebel, or had it all been in her head?
That question still plagued her. She wasn’t sure how he would have gotten onto the ranch without detection, especially considering the heightened security for the reception.
She shook her head. It must have been her imagination, a memory triggered by the stress of Alexander’s questions. The Rebel couldn’t possibly have shown up at Wolf Pack Run only to disappear again.
Though it had felt so real…
She sighed, sinking deeper into her mattress. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d thought of him since their encounter in the vampire coven.
Heat rose in her cheeks. She’d dreamed of him almost every night since—and not in the way she should have. The memory of the night when her life had been threatened by bloodsuckers was a dark one, but when she dreamed of that night, of him, her dream often took a completely different course from reality. Instead of dreaming of the danger she’d faced, she’d woken more than once to the thought of his uncharacteristic heroism as he whisked her from the vampires’ cells, only to find her own hand exploring between her legs.It was sick. She knew it. She shouldn’t be attracted to a dangerous criminal like him. Despite that, he stirred something primitive inside her. She knew what sort of dark circles he traveled in, yet she couldn’t seem to help it. A wolf like
the Rebel was everything forbidden to her: a non–Grey Wolf, a vigilante.
Not to mention one of her brother’s enemies, and the antithesis of every criterion she should consider for a mate.
Somehow, that only made him more appealing.By her birthright, she was destined for a Grey Wolf alpha warrior. She shuddered at the thought. The Grey Wolf warriors were all fine men, handsome cowboys, but they were practically her brothers.
Mae tossed and turned in her bed as she tried to put the Rebel from her mind, but still his face taunted her. Eventually, her hand trailed beneath her nightgown. Maybe if she eased this ache, the desire would go away. Maybe then, sleep would claim her. Slowly, her fingers probed the folds between her legs, locating her own clit. She knew her body, what she liked.
Gently, she massaged and probed as she remembered how it had felt when the warmth of his breath had brushed against her ear, the deep timbre of his voice thrumming through her.
You won’t regret this, he’d whispered.She imagined his lips trailing downward.
What would it be like to be with a criminal like him? Something told her every touch, every caress would be more powerful, more sinful…just more. Soon, she was moaning in climax, the walls of her core tightening in a delicious wave that sent a rush of moisture straight to her center. She cried out, arching her back against the pillows.
As the last throes of her orgasm shook her, she relaxed into her sheets, sated, though it was little more than a fantasy. At that thought, a pang of sorrow thrummed through her. That was all her dreams would ever be—fantasy. Not just him, but all her heart’s desires. She wanted more than she could have. She always had. She loved her pack, but the duties that bound her to them had never been her choice. She may have been a Grey by birth, but if she were braver, she’d live her own life. She’d make her own choices.
If she were free…
Mae lay there, the weight of the things she’d never have pressing down on her, constraining her chest so much that she struggled to breathe.
If only…
At least she could dream. Her dreams and desires were hers alone. She released a long sigh, switching on the light of her bedside table as she reached for a book to read. Until the sound of a familiar voice came from the darkness.
“Evenin’, Princess.”
The dim light of a table lamp cut through the shadows. Rebel leaned against the bedroom doorway, his Stetson hiding the scarred half of his face as he raked his gaze over her. As soon as Lily Grey had flicked the light on, she’d scrambled to her feet. She stood at her bedside, wearing little more than a thin, pink nightgown and clutching a large hardcover book from her nightstand like a weapon.He shook his head.Despite her pure Grey Wolf bloodline, by both wolf and human standards she was petite, which meant physically armed with knowledge or not, she wouldn’t hold her own in a fight against an alpha like him.But if looks could kill…She snarled at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”As if he hadn’t made a habit of sneaking into her room hundreds of times before. He shook his head. He’d known when they’d met in the vampires’ cells that she didn’t recognize him. Twenty years and a
What he wouldn’t give to see her enjoy just a taste of it.“And what about you? What saint are you to point out my flaws?” she asked. “How are my sins any worse than yours?” She counted off his crimes on her fingers. “Thievery, bribery, extortion, breaking and entering… I’m sure I’m missing some.”“You forgot grand larceny, but I’ll excuse it this time.” He grinned. Her list only touched the tip of the iceberg, but the challenge in her eyes stirred something low in his belly. He rose to his feet. “But there’s one key difference between you and me, Princess.”She bristled at the nickname again.Slowly, he stepped toward her, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t pretend to be the good guy.”Her eyes flashed to her wolf. She was a spitfire, and he liked that more than he cared to admit.“If you didn’t
Lily held the blade steady. “What are you offering?” she asked.Apparently, she hadn’t learned her lesson after making a deal with him the first time. She watched the Rebel with wary eyes, careful of any sudden movement he made. She didn’t think he was here to hurt her, but she was smart enough not to fully trust him either.She wasn’t about to underestimate a wolf like him.He straightened from where he leaned against the counter to his full height until he towered over her. All long limbs corded with muscle. He moved with the languid grace of a predator. She’d only seen that kind of movement from a handful of the strongest Grey Wolf alpha warriors. The warriors with the darkest pasts and the most enemy deaths to their name.“The kind of deal that gets you allies far more powerful than Alexander,” he answered.He stepped into the dim glow of the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window and Lily g
What had she gotten herself into? Lily swallowed—hard—as Rebel tugged on the reins. His deep voice wrapped around her, smooth as velvet.“Almost there now,” he said.Those were the first words he’d spoken to her since they’d escaped Wolf Pack Run. For the past several hours, they’d ridden in silence, only the late-night sounds of the forest and the bright summer moonlight guiding their way. Cradled in the darkness and with the gentle sway of the horse beneath her, she’d lost herself in the passing of the trees, so much so that she’d almost allowed herself to forget the mysterious wolf at her back.She had no such comfort now.As his horse slowed, Rebel dismounted, making quick work of removing his remaining weaponry from the leather saddlebag. Lily watched as he retrieved three extra blades. He slipped one into each boot before he passed the third to her. “For protection,” he grumbled. &ldq
Lily had never been to the ocean before, yet she felt the waves beneath her in a gentle, swaying movement. The water was warm, and the waves wrapped around her like a pair of powerful arms. An unfamiliar voice echoed from beneath the surface, bubbling from within the deep, muffled and distant.Anthony.At the name, she instantly stiffened. She was twelve again, barely a woman, and the sharp hands of her mother were pulling her, tearing her away. She was screaming, pleading, yet her cries fell on deaf ears. She needed to find him, to save him, to tell him she loved him, but she couldn’t move.He’s dead, her conscience answered.The water around her grew cold with her guilt. The ocean stilled like the eerie calm in the eye of a storm. Lily struggled to breathe as the water pressed in around her, threatening to swallow her as she drowned in its depths.Anthony was dead, which meant she might as well be too. The waves whispered in a crashin
Rebel tipped off his Stetson and swiped the sweat from his brow. Damn, it was hotter than Hades. It was dusk, and the summer sun had long since begun to set. Bright tinges of pink and orange clouded the western sky over the blue-ridged Idaho mountains in the distance. Normally, he and the crew would have turned in by now, but they’d lengthened their work hours during the summer, using the extra daylight to their advantage, and even though it had been close to day’s end after his and Murtagh’s security meeting, he’d come back out to the pasture.He never felt right turning in before his ranch hands did.“You headed in?” Boone, his young work companion for the day, asked as he sauntered out of the barn and toward the waiting truck.Frenchie would already have dinner ready, and since the classically trained chef had joined their ragtag band of misfits, Boone, a young rebel who wasn’t a day over nineteen, never missed dinner w
Lily ran until her feet ached and all four of her legs threatened to give out beneath her. The nighttime summer breeze blew, ruffling the fur of her coat. It caused a chill to prickle her haunches, though she was far from cold. She paused to catch her breath and glanced up at the night sky. The stars twinkled over the vast landscape, their brightness only obscured by the light of the full moon. Even in the shadows of the towering pines, she could see everything clearly, the moonlight and her wolf senses illuminating her path. She inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. The adrenaline that coursed through her veins caused her to pant with excitement. She’d escaped. She’d actually escaped.And courtesy of a rope made of bedsheets at that.There was still a slight ache in her skull from the healing head injury, but what little pain remained was nearly gone. In a moment of daring, she threw back her head and howled. The release of tension felt so good that, had
There was no doubt in Rebel’s mind that death lingered over him. Pain searedthrough his chest, the sting of torn flesh and bone intensifying with each breath he drew until he became convinced he’d rather not breathe at all. He could feel the heated rush of blood leaving his body, the intense chill its absence left behind. Every second drew him closer to the inevitable, closer to darkness, until, for a moment, he was certain he saw the face of the angel of death himself.Hello, old friend.He greeted death warmly, as they’d been acquainted many times before. More than once, Rebel had drawn so close to death that even in his waking hours, he could recall the sensation. First, the absence of thirst, hunger, need. The loss of his vision and voice came next, followed shortly by the absence of sound and touch until he was floating in an endless ocean of emptiness. The waves rising faster than the tide until suddenly, he was carried out to sea. His b