Wild Nights (3 page)

close to her chest. A crumpled envelope was clenched in her dirty

hand.

Nox watched the woman shove past Mase, her gaze burning with

a fierce survival instinct.

Mase shot him a concerned glance and pointed to his nose.

“Recognize that?”

Nox nodded. His friend caught the potent scent of a white wolf.

The members of his pack had all stilled to observe the woman in

their presence. He felt the probing gazes some cast toward him scrape

his bones. He had to tamp down the possessive growl that threatened

to rumble long and hard in his throat.

Mase lunged for the woman and caught her shoulder. The woman

spun on a gasp. Nox edged closer toward them while her back was to

him.

“Dear, what’s happened to you? Should I call for help?” Mase

asked. His brows cinched as his eyes swept over her filthy

appearance. Nox fisted his hands against his legs. He didn’t care for

anyone to scrutinize the woman in such a way. She was for his eyes,

no one else.

“Please,” the woman rasped between shallow gasps. She held out

the envelope. The flimsy piece of paper shuddered in her trembling

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hand. Nox’s nostrils flared from the sting of saltiness and the

repulsive scent of fear. He could see how badly she tried to hide her

trembling body. She sniffed and added, “My uncle told me to find

Carter. He left this in my sack.”

“Carter?” Mase whispered. Again, his friend’s attention flew to

Nox as he silently crossed the front yard. Mase took the envelope,

tore it open, and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked at it. I haven’t stopped driving

since late last night. I’ve been to four different towns, trying to find

this Carter. Please, tell me he’s here,” the woman entreated softly. She

added in a whisper, “
Please
.”

Mase unfolded the paper. Nox paused a few feet behind the

woman, trying his hardest to suppress the building fury of beholding a

sacred white in such a state of dishevel. The backs of her hands were

marred with burns and scabs. He caught sight of a long cut along the

back of her neck where the ends of her hair parted. He wanted to hear

what the letter said, about as much as everyone else.

Especially if she was searching for a Carter.

Mase’s jaw dropped open. His eyes widened. Every muscle in the

man’s face went lax.

“Where have you been all these years? You couldn’t be found,”

he breathed. His gaze scoured the woman before he held the note over

her shoulder for Nox.

The woman jerked around.

“I think that might explain the treasure hunt to get here. One of

the Smith relatives?” Nox asked, relieving the pathetic piece of paper

from Mase’s hand. He glanced over the scribbled writing, some worn

from having been crumpled so tightly. It confirmed every call in his

body down to the most important detail of all.
She’s my white wolf.

“I’m Lenox Carter. And you are?”

“You’re the Carter?” The woman’s bright blue gaze looked him

over. A light rose touched her dirty cheek. She dipped her head and

wiped at a smudge on her chin. Nox smiled, cupping her face in one

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hand and wiping away another streak of dirt. Emotions pummeled

him, but nothing more powerful than the need to protect his mate

from the dangers he knew followed her.

“Must be. I’m the only Carter in this neck of the woods.”

“Ayasha White,” she said. “Aya for short.”

“Nice to finally find you.” Nox plucked the leaf from her hair and

dropped it at their feet. “Well, you look like hell.”

“I just came from there.”

Nox chuckled and took her scraped hand. He stretched out her

arm, gently pushing the sleeve of her jacket to her elbow. Long welts

marred the delicate flesh, dotted by several small burns.

“Were you followed here?” he asked, turning her arm over. Anger

heated against his veins. His wolf howled to come out and maul those

responsible for harming his little white. The shadow paced

relentlessly just below the surface, grazing the underside of his flesh

until every hair on his body thrummed with residual motion.

Another primal desire ignited. His cock thickened and swelled

against the zipper of his pants. His blood heated with hunger he

hadn’t been able to quench with any woman he fucked. Her scent

intoxicated him, threatening to make him mindless in the swells of his

increasing need to claim her. He’d waited too long for this very

creature. Too many years of futile searching, hunting, and prowling

for his sacred white, only to have her stumble into his life looking like

bear food.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Nox nodded. To Mase, he said, “Pack me a meal.” To Aya, “Do

you prefer tea or coffee?”

“Coffee.”

“And a large coffee.”

“What are you doing?” Aya asked. Nox caressed her cheek with

the pads of his fingers. Her skin was sticky with grease and dirt, but

couldn’t curb the rising hunger that threatened to consume him, coil

and constrict around his mind. The wolf pacing inside him panted.

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21

He cleared his throat.

“Getting you some grub to eat at my place. I want you to fill me in

on everything that happened.”

Nox narrowed his gaze on her mouth. Her bottom lip was slightly

plumper, forming a pout that beckoned him to kiss her. Generous

curves created a nibble-worthy upper lip. He brushed his thumb over

that pliant lower lip. Her thickly lashed eyelids drifted half shut, the

tip of her tongue brushing over the pad of his finger. He was pleased

to hear her heart calm its ramped pace and the tremors that drifted

through her body subside. The anxiety he sensed upon her arrival

dissipated.

Twenty-five years of searching for this woman and here she is.

The inner satisfaction of being united with his mate came with a

tenuous lead of dread. Her uncle was most certainly dead, which

meant only one thing.

The breeze shifted downhill, but not before he scented that one

reason.

Riley had located them, and he wouldn’t stop until he had a white

wolf.

* * * *

“Smart fucking bastard,” Riley grumbled, guiding his Escalade

along the narrow road. The sun filtered through the dense redwoods

that lined the mountain pass, shimmering rays reflecting off the

chrome trim of his truck. Eliza leaned forward, tipping her head to

gaze skyward. Her thick fall of brown hair cascaded down to her

thigh, caressing her jeans.

“It’s no wonder we haven’t been able to locate them. He left his

trail in every direction except for his,” she cooed. She lifted a

manicured nail to her lip and nibbled. Riley shot her a feral glance,

earning him a sharp arch of her dark brow. “What?”

“We found White because a buddy snitched. That was nothing

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Rhea Regale

more than luck,” Riley reminded.

He observed the side of the road, searching for a turnoff. The

stench of car fumes continued to curl through his vents, assuring him

he was on the right path. Finding Charles White came with a surprise,

one that left a bitterness in his spirit and an overwhelming ache in his

dick. He never expected to cross a white wolf in his days, believing

them all to be dead.

Only a week ago, a member of his pack came to him with

disturbing news: A white wolf had returned to Hood River, and there

might be more that survived the massacre. Well, he sure as hell found

another survivor.

As hard as he tried, Riley couldn’t erase the image of the woman

from the night before. He caught himself several times looking at his

latest bedmate, comparing Eliza to the brazen young white. Eliza was

beautiful, from the perfect contours of her curvaceous body to the

defined structure of the bones in her face. Most of all, she was an

expert in the sack and her endurance almost matched his.

But that damned white, who had to be Charles’s niece, plagued his

darkest thoughts. Every minute she toiled around his mind, the beast

in him wanted to come out. During their drive, the sexual hunger that

enveloped him left him shifting in his seat, trying to ease the pain in

his cock until Eliza soothed the ache with her mouth. He imagined

that pretty white wolf fucking him with her mouth, drinking him dry

and leaving him in a state of satiation.

That happened three hours ago and he hurt again. The delicate

features of White’s niece’s face burned against the back of his eyes.

He tried every way to extinguish the image to no avail, leaving him

even more agitated than he had been while waiting to burn Charles’s

house to the ground with the bastard in it.

Retribution was supposed to be gratifying. Instead, it left him

aching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Wrapped so tightly in thought, he nearly missed the turnoff he’d

been searching for. The brakes grinded. Tires squealed. He snapped

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the wheel to the right, barely turning off the road before passing the

driveway. Eliza cussed, rubbing the back of her neck. She threw him

an angry look.

“What the hell was that for?” she groaned.

Riley snarled, slapped the truck into park, and climbed onto the

side of the road. He took off up the tree-infested incline. Eliza hurried

up behind him, jogging every few steps to keep up with his long

strides. The car fumes intensified as he drew closer to the top of the

drive. He could hear rapid talk, none of which made sense this far

away. Scents of food combed down the mountainside, teasing his

hunger and making his stomach roll.

The wind shifted down and brought with it the sweetest scent he’d

ever experienced. Immediately, his erection swelled, and he groaned.

The muscles in his chest tightened. He fisted his fingers.

She was here, and she wasn’t alone.

Lenox, you prick.

The vile memories of years ago resurfaced in a flash of images.

He and Nox racing through the Oregon forests, hunting fresh meat

with claws and teeth. The two of them taking to the small towns,

winning over pretty women for a night. Nox coming to him the night

after the white wolf massacre, three wolves at his back.

Riley cursed him that night. His closest friend, the man who he

trusted with his hide, turned against him with a single sentence.

“The spirits have announced I am mate to a white wolf.”

Riley had been wild with rage. His wolf reared up in the wake of

his anguish and threatened to consume him. Somehow, he retained

enough human sense to denounce Lenox Carter as a friend, a

comrade, and an honest man. The closest thing he had to a brother

accepted a fate as mate to a white wolf, a creature who had slayed his

father.

The very next day, Riley learned Nox had left Hood River with

his new pack of male wolves. He never cared to trace the friendturned-foe.

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Rhea Regale

Until now.

Riley lowered on his haunches, tugging Eliza down behind him.

She fell into his back.

“Quit it, Liza.”

“Stop being a bully,
Riley
,” she sneered.

Riley craned his neck and peered around the tree trunk providing

cover for him. He saw the broken-down vehicle, steam swaying over

the truck in the gentle breeze. A group of feisty wolves sat around the

long porch.

Then there was Lenox. Riley anchored his fist against the rugged

ground and leaned farther out. The white wolf came into view, and he

all but fell onto his side. His body quivered at the sight of her, grimy

and hellish but delicious as sin.

A low growl vibrated in his throat. Why the fuck did this single

woman evoke such raw emotions in him? He wanted that

woman…
dead
.

Mase, Nox’s right-leg pack mate, crossed the front yard with a

large plastic bag. He handed the mystery items to Nox. His nemesis

pressed a hand low on the woman’s back, guiding her to a chrometrimmed black Silverado. Proper as always, Nox held the door open

for her, helped her into the high cab, and handed her the bag.

The truck door slammed. Nox turned, squaring himself toward the

forest.

His eyes flickered, holding steady on Riley’s location. Carefully,

Riley began to slink deeper into the protection of the trees. Eliza

scurried to him on hands and knees.

“He sees us?” she whispered.

“No,” Riley lied. He wasn’t sure if Nox saw him or not, but his

wolfish instinct told him the man knew they were watching.

“I’m waiting for you, Riley. It’s been a long time.”

After twenty-five years of silence over their private telepathic

link, Nox’s words confirmed his previous inclination. Riley’s blood

boiled. The hairs on his arms began to elongate as his wolf’s coat

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threatened to sprout from his skin. His fingernails stretched and curled