Bec Adams Read online

  She also had ten years of training and experience now. Ordinarily she wouldn’t even consider going hiking alone any more, but this visit felt necessary. In some ways an apology of sorts or maybe even a way to close this part of her life so she could move on.

  Nobody had ever believed her story of the wolf that kept her from freezing to death that night.

  Many theories had been bandied around—she’d been delusional from the cold, or she’d retreated into her imagination when she’d thought she would die, or even that she’d made the whole thing up to get even more attention—but none of them had explained how she’d survived a freezing cold night in shorts and a T-shirt without even a touch of hypothermia.

  She’d read that wild wolves had a lifespan of about eight to ten years, so she knew that her wolf was probably long gone, but something inside her wanted to be here. She would have come years ago, but when her mother had fallen ill, that had taken priority. Eight long years of diagnoses and treatments, high hopes and crushing disappointments later, her mom had died in terrible pain and barely aware of anything around her.

  Perhaps that was why Maggie felt the overwhelming need to be here now. Home was clear on the other side of the country, but this was where memories of her mother were the strongest. The morning that rescuers had winched Maggie to safety had been a turning point in her life, and she’d finally understood the deeply protective, all-encompassing love her mother had for her. Memories of that pivotal moment in her life had helped her cope as her mother’s condition had slowly worsened and the cancer had eaten away at her personality as well as her insides.

  “I miss you, Mom,” she whispered into the crisp morning air.

  She turned in a circle, wondering what to do now. It seemed kind of ridiculous that she hadn’t thought past actually getting here. She had her tent and camping supplies of course, but now that she was here she wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting.

  Maggie could hear the rustling of animals moving around the forest, and she had enough experience hiking in areas closer to home to be able to identify the animals by size if not by species but it was the blue eyes watching her from only a few feet away that had her jumping back in surprise.

  “Sorry,” the man said stepping closer and reaching a hand out to steady her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Oh, I…um…That’s o–okay. I just wasn’t expecting to run into anyone. That’s all.”

  He laughed softly and gave her a brilliant smile. “I wasn’t expecting to find someone here either. Do you mind if I stay?”

  “Of course not,” she said, her mother’s lessons on manners kicking in. It didn’t matter that she was in the middle of nowhere, on a walking track rarely used, in the off-peak part of the camping season, in an area that she knew from experience that no one was close enough to hear her scream…Fuck, screw manners. “I…I was just going anyway. It was…um…nice to meet you.”

  She turned quickly back the way she’d come as she decided a rapid escape was called for. The guy did not seem like a regular hiker. With his broad shoulders, short, military-style haircut, and lack of camping supplies, he was probably some sort of survival nut. She’d seen enough B-grade movies to know that running into people like that in an isolated area never went well.

  She was a good hundred feet away before she realized her reaction was probably ridiculous. She glanced back to find the man watching her curiously, an amused smile on his face. Apparently he found the idea of scaring women funny.

  The independent, kickass, stand-up-for-her-rights side of her wanted to go back and confront him for his attitude, maybe even wipe that irritating smile from his face, but thankfully the mature, sane woman that she’d grown into overruled the hotheaded inclination. She continued walking quickly until the man was completely out of her sight.

  Maggie didn’t even see the wolf until she was almost face to muzzle with it.

  Chapter Two

  Gavin watched the woman make a hasty retreat and smiled at her sensible decision. He actually hoped she was carrying a gun in that heavy-looking backpack. Unfortunately, despite the myriad of deadly animals in the forest, chances were the woman was at more risk from other hikers than anything else.

  He was about to turn around and head back to his sister’s abandoned house when he heard the woman scream.

  Without even having to think about it, he ran at full speed, his hunting knife in one hand and his handgun in the other. The wolf was already on top of her, biting at her face when he ran into the small clearing. Its packmates scattered as soon as he ran toward her, the attacking wolf quickly leaping away as Gavin got close. He did a quick three-sixty, making certain that no other packmates stalked them before he dropped to his knees and tried to assess the damage.

  The woman was a fucking mess.

  But it was the wide gash on her throat that threatened her life.

  * * * *

  Kade smelled the local wolf pack’s scent and moved a little faster. It was probably stupid to worry for a woman who was never coming back, but if Maggie Johnson chose this anniversary to return to the place they’d first met then she was likely in danger. Food had been scarce over winter—scarce enough for the werewolf pack alphas in the area to ban any unnecessary hunting. As little as a vegetarian diet appealed to werewolves, the thought of causing their wild cousins extinction appealed even less. And thanks to the technology that the Dry Creek pack was finally utilizing, it was possible to order meat for delivery if and when it became necessary, so they weren’t exactly suffering.

  Of course, wild wolf packs weren’t known for attacking humans, but desperate, hungry animals didn’t always follow the rules.

  He was about half a mile from the cliff face when he heard a woman’s scream.

  He rushed forward, Maggie Johnson the only woman on his mind even as he berated himself for the hope. Eleven years was longer than most wild wolves lived. If Maggie had wanted to try and find him, she would have returned a long time ago.

  The smell of human blood was strong, but it was the human leaning over the prone woman that had him reacting on instinct. He leaped at her attacker, his teeth aiming for the man’s throat. It wasn’t bad enough that humans had to kill each other in the stinking, overcrowded, concrete messes they called cities but they had to bring their brand of depravity to his mountain also.

  The man fought him, surprisingly agile, and far more competent than Kade had thought possible for a human. He’d seen the gun on the ground beside the woman’s body, but it was the knife that pierced his gut that had him yelping in surprise.

  He dropped to the ground, unable to coordinate his legs, the instinct to shift to heal his wounds damn near overwhelming.

  But it was the scent of his mate when it reached his nose that truly had him howling in agony.

  * * * *

  Hensen was angry enough to use his mate as a chew toy. No sooner had he reached the relative safety of his cabin before he found himself turning around and heading back the way he’d come. Why the hell was she avoiding him? Wasn’t it natural for true-mates to want to bond as soon as they met? Goddess help him, if she was in trouble he’d put her over his knee. How dare she make him worry like this!

  Of course, he realized the emotions spinning wildly through his head were completely irrational. He’d been avoiding her, yet it hadn’t stopped the worry from setting in. He might not be ready to claim a mate, but it looked like nature didn’t give a rat’s ass what he wanted.

  He ran faster, dodging around trees as he followed his mate’s scent further and further away from the pack’s main area, his agitation growing with every footfall. A very human-sounding woman’s scream had him changing direction, instinct telling him that was where he’d find his mate. He burst into the clearing just in time to see an unfamiliar brown wolf fall to the ground, a deep knife wound in its belly.

  Hensen quickly morphed into his human form, glad for the absence of his pack’s fairly common purple hue, and stepped towa
rd the man who was desperately trying to give medical aid to the woman bleeding on the grass.

  “What happened?” he asked, trying to play the part of concerned citizen. It might have been more convincing with clothes on. As it was, he found himself staring at the narrow end of a very big gun. Somehow the guy held the weapon pointed in Hensen’s direction without actually taking his eyes off the woman as he tried to stop the bleeding at her throat.

  “Wolves,” the guy said as he finally glanced in the injured wolf’s direction. Hensen could see the panic in the werewolf’s eyes, but thankfully the wound would heal as soon as the werewolf could shift into his human form. But he couldn’t exactly carry a wolf away when it was obvious that the woman was dying.

  “Who is she?” Hensen asked as he knelt beside her and pressed his fingers against several other smaller wounds on her face.

  “I don’t know,” the man said in a resigned voice. It seemed obvious that he knew she wasn’t going to make it to medical help.

  “She’s my mate,” a soft, pained voice said from where the wolf had been. “Hensen, please save her.”

  Hensen wasn’t sure how this werewolf knew his name. He was fairly certain they’d never met, but the moment the man moved closer the scent finally hit him. This wolf—this male werewolf—was the mate he’d been avoiding?

  “Please, Hensen,” the man pleaded softly. “I’m a made wolf. I can’t change her.”

  He turned his gaze to the human male trying to hold the woman together and wondered how the hell he was going to react to what he was about to do. There was no way he could deny his mate this one thing. Hell, even he didn’t want the woman to die.

  “Can you save her?” the human asked steadily, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face.

  “I can,” Hensen said quietly, “but it will change her life forever.”

  The man nodded. “Do it.”

  Hensen glanced at the other werewolf, nodded once, and then slowly morphed back into his own wolf shape. The man jolted at the change but thankfully didn’t take his hands off the wounds at the woman’s throat.

  “It’s okay,” the other werewolf assured him. “When Hensen bites her, she’ll change into a werewolf.”

  “But wolves did this,” the man said, sounding just a little bewildered. Considering what was happening right in front of him, he was managing to stay pretty calm.

  “I thought you did this,” the other werewolf said. “I’m sorry I attacked you.”

  The human gave him a strange look but didn’t say anything.

  Hensen moved closer and very carefully bit into the side of the woman’s neck. He held on, remembering exactly what Gideon had told him about the time he’d changed his mate, Suzanne, into a werewolf. It was the werewolf saliva that did the work, so he had to stay attached to her for as long as it took to start working.

  The moment the woman’s blood hit his tongue, he realized who she was to him. He almost wanted to cry as his cock lengthened and arousal swirled through him. He’d spent the past seven months avoiding meeting his mate, and in the space of two minutes had not only met him but found another as well. His carefree bachelor days were very clearly over.

  As that realization hit, so did another. This one far more important. If he didn’t manage to change her and save her life, there would always be a hole in their lives. Even if he manned up and claimed his werewolf mate, without the human woman destined to be theirs also their life together would be incomplete.

  He whined his distress, shuffling closer on his belly, hoping like hell he’d remembered everything that Gideon had told him.

  “It’s okay, Hensen,” the werewolf said as he stroked a hand over the fur on his head. “It’s working. Her scent is already changing.”

  “And the bleeding has stopped,” the human said as he slowly pulled his hands away from her throat and sat back on his haunches.

  Hensen held on a while longer, wanting to make certain that the woman had the best chance of survival. It took a lot to kill a werewolf, especially when they could heal almost instantly by shifting between forms, but the change from human to werewolf wasn’t quite as powerful. He needed to make certain that all of her wounds were healed before he let go.

  He prayed that he’d have his cock under control before then. Another werewolf would understand the hard-on, but he doubted a human would find it appropriate.

  “It’s okay, Hensen,” the werewolf said, again stroking his fingers over Hensen’s furry head. “You can let go now.”

  * * * *

  In his time as a Navy SEAL, Gavin had seen some pretty fucked up things, but none of them had left him quite so off balance.

  Had he really just watched a wolf turn a dying woman into a mythical creature? Surely he was having some sort of delusional episode. PTSD was a pretty common affliction for men with his experiences. He’d just never considered he might be one of them.

  “Are you okay?” the smaller man asked Gavin as the wolf finally pulled its teeth from the area where the woman’s shoulder met her throat and then licked over the tiny wounds. Gavin dragged his T-shirt off and used the soft material to wipe away as much blood as possible. The cuts on her face were completely healed. The one on her throat still showed as a silvery line, but considering that moments ago it had been life threatening, it was a small price to pay.

  Gavin really wanted to look away when the massive silver wolf turned back into a naked man, but for the life of him he simply couldn’t.

  “She needs to sleep,” the man said quietly, apparently talking to Gavin the way one would when faced with an injured animal or a pissed off criminal. He glanced down at his hand. He hadn’t even realized that he’d picked the gun back up. It had become so second nature to make certain he was always armed that he’d done it without thinking. He quickly thumbed the safety into place and tucked the weapon back into its shoulder holster.

  Both men—werewolves—sighed audibly before turning their attention back to the woman.

  “I don’t know where the dens are,” the one apparently named “Hensen” said.

  The other man looked surprised and went to say something, but a quick shake of Hensen’s head silenced the words. Finally he looked around, seemed to get his bearings, and then pointed into the thick scrub. “About half a mile.”

  “Hensen Bright,” the werewolf said, holding his hand out in a very human gesture. Gavin glanced at the blood covering his hands, mentally made a note to get tests done when he got back home, and then shook the man’s equally blood-covered hand.

  “Gavin Campbell.”

  Hensen lifted the woman into his arms easily, tilted his head in a very clear indication that Gavin should come with them, and then turned his attention to the other wolf. The younger one seemed to take the hint.

  “Kade Ridges,” he said with a grimace. “Her mate. Yours, too, I think.”

  “Yeah, I got that part,” Hensen said with a wince. “Do you know her name?”

  “Maggie Johnson,” he said as he turned and started to work his way through the thick scrub. “I met her eleven years ago when she fell down the cliff face not far from here.”

  “I think I remember that,” Hensen said, gazing at the woman’s face. “She wouldn’t have been very old at the time.”

  “About seventeen,” Kade said, but quickly added more when Hensen tensed. “I stayed in wolf form to keep her warm. That’s all. She never knew what I am.”

  “Well it seems our mate has a propensity for finding trouble. No wonder nature decreed she have two.”

  Confused by the conversation—and truly at this point he didn’t even want to ask—Gavin turned his attention to the woman. She was actually quite beautiful, not in any classic sense, but more in a raw beauty sort of way. There was something very elemental about her. Although, considering she’d just been made a werewolf it was probably appropriate. He was a little concerned to realize that Maggie’s legs were turning a slightly purple hue, and it was only then that he noticed the purpl
e hue of Kade’s skin.

  “Why are you purple?” he asked without thinking. Hell, for a guy who usually didn’t grunt more than a word or two in social situations he was certainly gabbing away today.

  Kade shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just the way it works when a human is turned. Most wolves in our pack are born with the same purple color tone, but all made wolves end up with the purple hue.”

  “You said you’re a made wolf. You were human once?” Gavin asked.

  Kade nodded. “About forty years ago I got lost in this area. Thankfully a member of the Dry Creek pack found me. I was nearly dead, so Lisbeth did the only thing she could to save my life.”

  “Lisbeth? As in the beta’s mate?” Hensen asked curiously.

  “Rather ironic considering what she did to Brigden, huh?”

  “Maybe not. Her mate seemed to be a narrow-minded bigot. He probably gave her hell for saving you.”

  “I’m not really sure,” Kade said as he led them into a small natural cave. “I had very little to do with her once she got me back to Dry Creek. She certainly wasn’t the mothering type, which I suppose is just as well. I was already twenty-five in human years. I didn’t want or need a mother.”

  Gavin blinked several times, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark interior, even as his head spun with questions. He didn’t feel afraid of either of these men, despite the tiny internal voice reminding him that in movies werewolves were dangerous and when Maggie woke he was probably meant to be her first meal—now there was a good reason to give up watching television—but he couldn’t quite explain why he was staying with them.

  They moved deeper into the small cave, but just when Gavin thought they were at the back wall, Kade disappeared out of sight. He glanced at Hensen, but when he didn’t react, Gavin tried not to either. Fortunately as they got closer, he realized that there was an optical illusion that hid the entrance to a much larger room.