Rogue Alpha: Wolf Shifter Romance (Wild Lake Wolves Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

I couldn’t stop touching him. Mal became a different
kind of sustenance, but one my body craved just as much as food or air. We sat
on the edge of the bed together. I held my hand on his knee or cupped his face
or ran my fingers across his back tracing the lines I’d made when I scratched
him. He was already starting to heal.

“I knew,” I said much later when I regained the
ability to form words. “I can’t explain it, but I think I knew from that first
moment when you came to me in the woods. The wolf was you.”

Mal nodded. I reveled in the wonder of his body. The
broadness of his back. His thick, dark hair almost the same shade as mine. I
laid a lock of mine across his shoulder. They were nearly a perfect match. Had
that always been the case? I hadn’t noticed until now. I felt drunk from him.
Woozy. But Mal remained stoic. Lines of worry creased his brow when all I felt
was contentment.

“What is it?” I finally asked. I laid back on the
bed on my side. I was naked still. So was he. It felt natural, like we’d been
together forever.

“I should have let you leave. I shouldn’t have gone
after you.”

My heart fluttered with the first waves of fear. I
sat up. Would he ask me to leave now? Could I? I knew what was happening to me
. . . between
us
was strange. Supernatural. But it felt real and strong
and the thought of leaving him made my blood run cold. I should be scared.
Terrified. Mal was an honest to God werewolf. I should be panicking. Running
screaming through the woods. And yet, it seemed the most natural thing in the
world. As odd as that sounds, knowing the truth made the world make more sense
to me, not less.

“Do you want me to leave now?” The idea filled me
with dread, but I hadn’t taken complete leave of my senses. I’d just had the
greatest fuck of my life and kind of hoped it wouldn’t be the last, but it
couldn’t be enough to make me chuck my whole future away. I still had to deal
with Flood.

“You won’t be safe with me forever,” he said. Mal
rose off the bed and grabbed his jeans off the floor. He tossed mine to me.
They landed on the pillow near my head. “The pack isn’t going to stop looking
for me, and I can’t stop looking for them. You asked me why they didn’t come
after me yesterday. It’s only because I was lucky enough to be faster for a
second. And they didn’t expect me to shift. Next time, it’s going to be much,
much worse.”

Mal zipped his pants and ran a hand across the
stubble on his chin. “Get dressed,” he said. “I’m going to take you out of here.”

“Where do you want me to go?”

“Anywhere that’s far away from me. Preferably on a
plane headed in the other direction. Where’s home for you? Your real home?”

I let out a sigh and thrust my foot into the leg of
my jeans. I hopped on one foot to get them up past my hips then grabbed my
shirt. My bra was still out in the woods somewhere. “Northern California.”

“Perfect,” he said. “Go back there. Never come back
here.”

My blood boiled. Mal tore through the cabin until he
found the keys to the Jeep. He went to the front door and threw it open. Rage
started to simmer in me. It seemed being around Mal Devane sparked extreme
emotions in me one way or another. But for now, who the hell did he think he
was ordering me around? I didn’t ask him to inject himself into my life. He had
no right to tell me how to live it.

“I live here now. I go to school here. I’m not
throwing everything away I’ve worked for because of Byron Flood or a wild pack
of wolves. And certainly not until I understand just what the fuck is going
on.” I grabbed the edge of the door, pulled it out of Mal’s hands and slammed
it shut. I crossed my arms in front of me, took a wide stance, and stared him
down.

A spark went through Mal’s eyes that sent a wave of
heat straight down my spine and settled between my legs. Good God. I needed to
quit thinking with my libido where he was concerned. I wanted answers. Now. I
turned on my heel and sat down on one of cane chairs. I gestured to the other
with my chin. “Talk.”

Mal narrowed his eyes at me and let out a chuff that
sounded pure wolf. He didn’t sit. Instead, he paced. I wanted to stay mad at
him. I found it difficult to concentrate as he walked in front of me shirtless.

“The pack. They’re like you?” I asked.

Mal stopped mid-stride and turned toward me. “They’re
were. Yes.”

“Are they your pack?”

Mal’s eyes flashed. “No. I don’t have a pack. Not
anymore.”

I sensed pain in his voice as he said it. It cut
through me, leaving a hollow space. I wanted to go to him and ease it. But, Mal
wasn’t finished.

“The pack I came from lives up north. The Wild Lake
lands at the tip of the lower peninsula, spreading through the upper peninsula
and into Canada.”

“Why aren’t they here with you?”

Mal stood in front of the fireplace, resting his
elbow on the stone mantle. He rubbed his chin between his fingers. “I’ve been
exiled.”

He said it with a finality that tore at my heart.
Exile. Mal was part wolf. I knew what that had to mean for someone like him. He
was all alone when he should be part of a pack. Again, I wanted to go to him
but knew on instinct he needed space if he was going to get through this.

“The large red wolf,” he continued. “The one who
called to the others back at your camp. His name is Asher. He’s their Alpha. He
started a war with the Wild Lake packs long ago. Now he’s back trying to finish
it. He wants to take over the lands we have in Michigan. He wants revenge for
things he thinks we took from him. He won’t stop until he’s killed every last
one of us.”

Asher. The red wolf. Just as recognition slammed
into my brain when I saw Mal as the wolf, I realized I knew Asher too. He’d
been the man I saw arguing with Flood the other day. My head spun as I tried to
sort out what it all meant. I shook my head and looked back at Mal.

“Then why are you the only one who’s fighting him? I
counted five of them including that big one. How many others are there in Wild
Lake? Whether you’re exiled or not, you just said Asher’s after the other
wolves from Wild Lake. Why aren’t they down here fighting by your side?”

Mal pressed his fist against the mantle. “I told you.
I’m in exile. Asher is mine to bring down. The rest of his pack . . . they
belong at Wild Lake too. It’s my job to free them from Asher and bring them
back home. If they’ll follow me.”

“If they’ll . . . uh . . . last I saw, they were
trying to rip my face off. Yours too. What makes you think they want to go?”

“Asher’s their Alpha. They do what he commands. If
given the chance to decide for themselves, I believe they’ll come with me. It’s
Asher who wants me dead along with anyone who’s close to me.”

A lump settled in my throat as his words sank in.

“I’m sorry,” Mal turned toward me, pain filling his
eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. And now you know why you have to go. I’ve
made a mistake where you’re concerned. As long as you’re here, you’re a way for
Asher to get to me. If he finds you, he’ll use you against me. He’ll have no
qualms about hurting you either. Badly. You don’t belong in the middle of this
fight.”

But, I wasn’t the only one in the middle of it.
Everything had happened so fast. Seemed so incredible at the time. But, Flood,
Cam, they weren’t afraid of the gray wolves. Flood had some kind of
relationship with Asher.

“What’s Flood’s part in this? He knows Asher’s pack,
doesn’t he? He’s connected to them somehow.”

Mal clenched his jaw. “Yes. He must be a friend of
the pack. I suspected it the first time I laid eyes on him. I could
smell
Asher on him. It means they were in the same room together not long before I
saw him at the store with you. And that’s what I mean. Just that little bit of
contact was enough for me to sense Asher. With the time we’ve spent together,
he can track you the same way. I don’t know what Flood and Asher’s relationship
is or what Flood’s getting out of it. But, Asher and his pack need a lot of lands
to hunt while they’re here. A sort of home base. It would make sense that he’d
have someone connected with either the rangers or your outpost watching out for
the pack.”

I nodded. Quickly as I could, I recounted what I
remembered about the argument Flood and Asher had. “They were talking about you
only I didn’t realize it at the time. And Flood said something about helping to
keep the rangers off Asher’s back. So, he does that and Asher basically agrees
not to rip Flood’s throat out?”

Mal nodded. “If I were in Asher’s place, it’s what
I’d do. We’re strong, but we’re vulnerable this far south. The pack needs a
safe haven, and it looks like Flood’s helping to provide it.”

“Now I get why Flood tried to blow me off after that
day in the woods when he shot at you. Told me I was seeing things. That you
were a coyote.”

Mal scoffed and started pacing again. “There’s only
five of them, but even a pack that size can’t sustain themselves in a place
like this without drawing attention. We have outposts of our own down here, but
Asher’s had help from I some packs down in Kentucky and we’ve had to abandon
them. In addition to his vendetta against the Wild Lake packs, he wants to
claim lands all through Michigan. It looks like he thinks he’s got a foothold
in Manistee now.”

“Why were you exiled?”

Mal stopped pacing. He clenched his fists at his
side. “It’s a long story.”

“Give me the highlights.”

“I was born an Alpha. There wasn’t room for two of
us in my pack. I made a challenge. I lost. The Alpha I challenged could have killed
me. It would have been his right. But, someone intervened on my behalf. Some of
the wolves in Asher’s pack are very important to the people in Wild Lake. I’ve
been given a chance to bring them back and claim my place among the Wild Lake
packs for good.”

I raised a brow. “That’s a pretty simple story, Mal.
So now you’re down here trying to claim a pack of your own. I get it. What can
I do to help?”

Mal took a step back. He looked at me as if I’d
grown a third eye. “Why would you want to help me?”

I stood up and went to him. “I have no idea. I
really don’t. Except that fucker Asher sicked those wolves on me. I was there.
They had a kind of bloodlust. And if they’re working with Flood, all the more
reason to hate them. I’m not one to uh . . . pardon the pun . . . . turn tail
from a fight. Flood’s going to try to discredit me with the university. Seems
to me hurting Asher means hurting Flood. So, I’m in. Also . . .”

I didn’t know how to give voice to what I was
feeling. It was Mal. His fight felt like my fight. Like I belonged at his side.
I put a hand up. I meant to lay it on his chest but my fingers fluttered in midair
a few inches from his skin. If I touched him again, I didn’t know if I could
stop. The pull between us was that strong.

I closed my fist and brought my hand down to my
side. “What’s happening to me? To us?”

Mal’s face turned hard. I saw something pass through
his eyes as if he warred with himself. Finally, he reached down and took my
wrists in his hands. His fingers burned hot against my flesh. My heart raced in
time with his as I watched a pulse beat in his temple.

“No,” he said simply, but the force of the word
seemed to strike me in the center of my chest, making my heart ache. “This
isn’t your fight. Get your things. I’m getting you the hell away from me.”

Then, he let go of my wrists and my heart dropped to
the floor.

Chapter Twelve

Part of me wanted to gather my dignity and storm out
of the cabin on my own. I had tried to make my way to the Jeep once; I could do
it again. This time, if Mal followed, I would find my resolve and keep on
going. But, everything I told him in the cabin was true. I wanted to bring
Flood down. If severing his connection with Asher’s pack would help accomplish
that goal, count me in. But, I couldn’t deny the real reason my temper heated
my blood. I just flat out didn’t want to leave Mal. I didn’t fully understand
it, but being with him seemed natural. Like it was what I was meant to do.

For now though, I had to focus on the matter at
hand. Getting to the ranger station, calling my department head, and filing a
complaint against Byron Flood. It meant my internship was probably kaput for
the time being, but I had to have faith the university would make things right.
I was the aggrieved party, after all.

I busied myself finding the lost remnants of my
clothing and stuffing them back in my pack. Mal waited by the door, twirling
the car keys in his hand. I slung the shotgun back over my shoulder and gave
him a nod when I was ready.

“I’ll drive back myself,” I said. “It’s daylight. I
think I can find my way to the ranger station.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Completely. Just walk me back to the Jeep
and I’ll be on my way.” I gave Mal a smug smile, not wanting to give him the
satisfaction of seeing how much the idea of leaving him unsettled me. Mal gave
me a quick nod and started walking toward me. He put a hand out, offering to
take the backpack, but I waved him off. I carried the thing in here. I could
carry it out.

He shrugged then pointed northeast. “About a hundred
yards that way, you’ll see a dense trail.”

“Wait, you’re not going with me?”

Mal smiled. “Oh, I’m gonna be close by, but I can
keep a better lookout if I shift.”

“Oh. Right. You uh, want me to wait for you while
you do that?”

Mal pulled on the button of his jeans. I bit my lip
and looked the other way. Silly, I know, but it was pretty tough to concentrate
on being indignant with that body just a few feet away from me. Mal turned his
back and I couldn’t help it. I looked. He shifted so seamlessly, crouching low;
the muscles of his back twisted, his shoulder blades rolled, and midnight black
fur sprouted everywhere. Then, the black wolf trotted around me, his snout high
in the air.

I gave him a nod, readjusted the weight of my backpack,
and set off on the trail to the Jeep. Mal’s wolf sprang in front of me, his
powerful back legs propelling him. Then, he darted off into the thick of the
trees to guard the way. With each step I took, I could feel him all around me,
watching, guarding. We were connected by some invisible string, it seemed. It
felt familiar, comforting. And now, he was asking me to sever it.

I wondered if that was the last I would see of him.
My gut clenched at the thought of it. Could I really just get into the Jeep,
drive off, and go back to my life as if everything were normal again? Like this
was just some lost, wild weekend. No. The idea made me feel physically ill. I
could never un-know what I knew about Mal and the others. There had to be a
reason he made me feel the way he did. He was drawn to me just as much as I was
drawn to him.

Well, I wasn’t leaving Manistee right away. Not
until I had everything settled with G.L.U. And I sure as hell wasn’t heading
back to California with nothing to show for the hard work I’d done here. It’s
probably exactly what Flood wanted. It’s what he threatened back at the outpost
just before Mal nearly ripped his throat out.

With each step I took rage at Flood and heartache at
leaving Mal turned into resolve. I wasn’t giving any of this up without a
fight. Not my future. Not my scholarship. And not what I shared with Mal. One
way or another we weren’t finished. As the thick brush gave way to a trail, I
listened for Mal. I could sense him nearby, darting through the trees, making
sure we were alone. But, he didn’t show himself again. After about twenty
minutes, I saw the Jeep up ahead, partially obscured by the branches Mal had
thrown over it.

My heart quickened. The Jeep represented a return to
a somewhat normal part of my life before the last twenty-four hours upended
everything. I went to the back and lifted the hatch. I threw my pack on the
floor and slid the shotgun off my shoulder, carefully tucking it in beside the
pack. I reached up and slammed the hatch shut. A pair of golden eyes flashed
through the brush. Mal.

I wanted him to shift again, wanted to watch the
cruel beauty of it. I wanted to kiss him goodbye. He blinked once then receded
further into the woods. I let out the breath I’d been holding and twirled the
keys on my index finger.

The sun was high above me. It had to be close to
noon. I slid into the driver’s seat and saw the corner of my cell phone peeking
out from a corner of the floor mat on the passenger’s side. Reaching over to
pick it up, the screen was black. The battery had run out probably hours ago.
Something I’d have to worry about later. For now, I needed to get to the ranger
station and work on putting the pieces of my life back together.

I put the car in gear and drove through the thick
trail, crunching twigs and branches beneath the tires. I kept checking the
mirrors, hoping I might catch a last glimpse of Mal. I sensed him back there
still, but he stayed hidden. After a few minutes, the trail turned to gravel,
and I knew I was heading the right way.

My pulse raced as I pulled into the ranger station.
Two patrol cars were parked out front. It occurred to me I hadn’t given a
single thought about what the hell I was going to tell them. Certainly nothing
about Mal. If they believed me at all, I couldn’t risk the chance that they
were allied with Asher’s pack and might want to do him harm like Flood did.

I put the car in park, slid the keys in my back
pocket, and headed for the front door. The place was empty when I went inside.
The station served as a tourist information and nature center for the whole
park as well. Photographs lined the wall laying out the park’s timeline dating
back to the nineteenth century. Large stuffed bears, badgers, deer and other
wildlife were posed next to information kiosks all throughout the room, each of
them staring silently back at me with glassy black eyes. But, other than that,
the place seemed empty. I walked further in past the gift shop. Beyond it, a
long hallway led to the command center -- such as it was -- for the ranger
station.

I heard a squawking police radio and low voices.
Classified ads, sheriff’s auction notices, and wanted posters festooned a
corkboard on the wall. I took a breath to call out for one of the rangers, but
something caught my eye. If it hadn’t, if I
had
called out, I shudder to
think what might have happened instead of what did.

Most of the rest of the papers on that corkboard
were crinkled or tattered from weeks or months of hanging there. But, one at
the center was fresh and crisp, and the colored picture at the center still
shone. I swallowed the words I meant to shout and turned to see my own face
staring back at me. A bad copy of the picture from my student I.D. smiled
timidly back at me under large black lettering, “Person of Interest.”

My heart flipped in my chest. I chanced a look back
down the hall as I unpinned the wanted poster and quietly stepped back toward
the nature center. My fingers shook as I skimmed the copy on the poster. Only
phrases leaped out at me, I didn’t seem able to focus long enough to read full
sentences.

Wanted for questioning in the
assault on Byron Flood.

Grand Theft Auto

Considered armed and extremely
dangerous

The words jumbled around in my brain, free floating
while I tried to process what I was seeing. Make sense of it. Me. Wanted for
questioning. They thought I assaulted Flood? Deep laughter came from down the
hall, growing closer. I pressed myself against the wall, hiding behind a large
stuffed brown bear.

Should I talk to the rangers? Turn myself in? This
was all just a horrible misunderstanding. But, on some preternatural level, I
sensed extreme danger. This was Flood’s doing. Of course it was. His last
venomous words to me rang through my brain.

You’re finished. At the college.
Everywhere. You think I’m going to let some little cocktease slut like you get
away with this? You’ll be lucky if expulsion is the worst thing that happens to
you. This is
my
park. My people.

Oh my God. His people. His park. If he’d been
telling the truth, the rangers on the other end of that hallway might not
believe anything I had to say. Before I even knew what I was doing, I found
myself backing out of the room toward the door. I crumpled the wanted poster in
my fist and shoved it in my back pocket. I turned and stumbled out the door.
Air stabbed into my lungs as my pulse raced.

Where could I go? Who could I trust? Help. I needed
help. A lawyer. Someone. I reached into my other pocket and pulled out the
keys.

The keys to the Jeep. Words from the poster finally
penetrated my brain. The Jeep. Flood told them I’d stolen it. That meant the
cops were looking for it as much as me. And there it was, parked in the first
open space at the front of the ranger station. I ran to the back of it,
scanning the parking lot and the woods behind it. For now, no one seemed to be
watching. I pulled my backpack out of the back and slung it over my shoulder. I
meant to quietly close the hatch but something stopped me. Without even
thinking, I grabbed the shotgun and closed the door.

Where could I go? The instant I thought it, the
answer was clear. Rational or not, I trusted exactly one person in this entire
state right now. Mal. I could go back to Mal. The decision seemed to move
through me, making my heart slow down to normal and my head fully clear.

I looked back one more time at the station to make
sure no one saw me leave, then I headed back into the forest and ran.