A Mate's Denial: (5 page)

“
Th-thanks. My mom chose it.”

“Not your name. Though, I’
m partial to that too.”

Okay. Before she could ask what it was he liked so much, he’d left the couch. Deliberately, he bent over her chair, his hands anchored on the arms, his face inches from hers. His eyes burned tracks down her body, starting at the top of her head and ending god-knows-where.

Kerrigan gulped. He looked hungry.
Starved. Like he wanted to completely ravish her. Lay waste to the land that was Kerrigan, and ruin her for any others before he rode off into the sunset on his bike. She’d read of men having this kind of reaction to a woman, but that was just fiction.

Maybe he was sleep
walking? Stuck in a dream still. But if so, it
was
a good one. A thrill ran along her spine.

“
Trager?”

“
Mmm hmm?”

“A-are you awake?”

“Wide. Completely awake.”

Her heart raced
as he bent even closer, making her skin feel flush. She thought, maybe, he was going to kiss her. Did she want that? They were barely more than strangers. But instinct told her a kiss from Trager would be unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

Yeah. She wanted this.

Except, he didn’t kiss her. What he did was a million times more intimate.

His cheek barely brushed hers as his face came to the crook between her neck and shoulder. The stubble tickled but she was far from laughing, shivering instead a
t his nearness, at his breath and how it danced along her skin. His nose grazed a path from her earlobe to the collar of her shirt, and back again, making her breath come faster and faster.

Trager
inhaled deeply, and took all her self-restraint with it. Her hand threaded into his hair. It was the softest sensation between her fingers.

He growled—that was the only word for it—a low, rumbling sound from the back of his throat.
“Too much.” It was barely more than a whisper. “Too fast.”

Whatever he meant,
it didn’t stop him from pressing his lips against the skin of her neck.

Kerrigan tried hard to hold in her whimper. This was like nothing she’d ever felt before.
Like he was…
cherishing
her. The thought made her eyes prick with tears, but they were forgotten in the next second, when Trager cradled her head, tilting it for better access to her neck.

Unable to help it, she moaned. His fingers tightened in her hair in response. Then it was no longer the softness of his lips she felt, but the
wet heat of his tongue. It set fire to her insides, melting her bones.

He pulled back abruptly, as if catching himself, slapping his own hand for being in the cookie jar. He paced the small area in front of her coffee table, his hand rubbing his mouth, and making a faint
shruff
noise.

Kerrigan tried to steady her sawing breath and resisted the urge to fan
herself. When he didn’t stop the pacing and hair pulling, she stood, on embarrassingly shaky knees.

“
Trager.”

“Yeah?”
To and fro, to and fro.

“Are you alright?”

Stop. Stare.

Yes, those were the right words.

His eyes blazed at her. A neon sign spelling DESIRE might as well have been hanging on his face. God, a man as beautiful as
him
, wanted
her
? Like, not just as an I’ve-got-no-other-hope-of-getting-laid-tonight last ditch effort either. He
wanted
her.

The knowledge made her stand a little taller. A grin curled her lips.

“I have to go,” he ground out. “But I’ll be back.”

Part of her was disappointed. But the rest of her knew this was good. She wasn’t ready for sex yet. “Okay.”

Stalking over to her, he cupped the back of her neck, bringing her close again. His eyes never left hers. “I
need
to kiss you. I need that much before I go.”

She licked her lips in anticipation. If he was playing with her now, she would break his knees or something.

His descent upon her mouth was swift. Like an eagle diving at his prey. And his kiss was fierce, a fighter earning his prize. His other hand came up to grip her jaw, angling her head so he could coax her mouth open. She moaned, and his tongue pushed in, lapping at her mouth like it was the sweetest candy. She had no control, his mouth owning hers in a way she’d never be able to forget.

He broke away, mere millimeters separating them. His grip was still tight on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, his eyes glued to her mouth.
“You taste
so
good
.” His tongue darted out again, finding her open mouth, lips fusing once more. “I can’t…” Again. Licking. “I can’t… get enough.”

Time stood still as everything in her world focused on a single point: where two mouths connected to form sensations she’d never thought possible. Tingling and buzzing and trembling like she’d never experienced before.

Too soon, he pulled away.

“I have to go.
Now. Right now. But I’ll be back, okay.”

Her head felt like it was spinning but she thought she nodded.

“I’ll be back.”

Chapter
Eight

It was the same damn dream he’d had every sleeping night since meeting her a week ago. Her presence filled up his small cabin as if she was actually there, living, loving, sharing in his home. As if it was
their
home. His bed was hers, and he awoke to her every morning, her pleasured moans better than any coffee to start the day. At night, they talked and laughed in the living room, planning their future. One of his favorite parts of the dream was when she’d let him watch her shower before he took her to bed. To know that he could do that for the rest of their lives, was the most satisfying feeling.

Trager
hadn’t truly thought it possible, but he was
happy
.

Until he woke to sunlight and a cold empty bed.

After four days away from his mate, he could barely even smell her on his jacket anymore. He turned to look at it, where it rested on the edge of the bed.
Where he’d kept it since the night of the kiss. So he could smell her.

Damn. He was a pathetic wolf.

Trager rolled to a sit and picked up the jacket. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled deeply. Twice. There was a lot of his own scent but only a scant trace of Kerrigan’s.

Kerrigan
.

Just her
name made his heart beat double-time. He’d gleaned a wealth of information in the time they’d spent together, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know everything about her. Her likes and dislikes. Her wishes and hopes and dreams. Her nightmares and fears. Her passions.

Trager
closed his eyes and recalled their kiss.

Her skin had been
satin soft as he’d scented her arousal. It had pulled him from his dream and he’d left the couch to get a better imprint of it. But the more he imprinted, the farther he wanted to go. He’d let his lips graze her neck, and the arousal had gotten stronger, making his own reach nearly uncontrollable levels. He’d tasted her skin, and it went to nuclear.

He wanted her; she wanted him. But he’d pulled back. He wanted to mate her, not
one-and-done it. To make that happen, he had to take this slow, gain her trust. And hopefully her heart. She already had his. Hook, line, and sinker. But she was human and things worked differently for them. They didn’t fall in love soul-first. All in or nothing. They eased into it, warily. Because for them, there were many options.

For shifters, there was one. And nature had a way of making them fall fast and hard for that person. It was the most amazing experience, feeling so much for someone you’d only just met.
Even if… even if the Elders were right about her, he wouldn’t regret his feelings. How could he, when he felt like he’d kissed a rainbow. Like the sun was shining on his night. Like he’d met the missing piece to his puzzle.

Staying away after he’d tasted her mouth was pure torture, but he knew if he saw her again so soon, he’d have trouble keeping his lips off her.
And his hands for that matter. He’d dreamed of her curves so many times that now, he was practically aching to feel them for real.

Trager
showered—cold—and made a quick breakfast of bacon and eggs. Then he went outside to work off some steam. There was plenty of fire wood that needed splitting, and he should check the perimeters of his property. A little time running with his wolf would do him some good.

The sun was high in the sky, and
Trager had worked up a good sweat despite the cool air by the time he’d finished splitting the wood. His muscles were loose and his mind had cleared a fraction. After stacking it neatly on the small porch, he removed his clothes and shifted. Shaking out his fur, he lifted his nose to the chilled blue sky and sniffed. There was nothing strange in the air, but he needed to run. A lap around his land was exactly the prescription his wolf soul needed.

Taking off through the dense cover of trees that kept his cabin hidden from most of the world, he headed for the north boundary.
The cool air on his fur as he darted between heavy-barked trunks rejuvenated him. From the north, he cut west. The scuffle of smaller animals was a soothing sound. It also made his stomach rumble. Chasing down a rabbit was an easy task before he wrapped around, coming up to the back of the area where his cabin was. A final inhale gave him the all-clear. His place was safe. He was fed and exercised, and the sun was going to set soon.

Time to be human again.

Leaving the rough forest floor, he changed, and padded over the too-long grass behind his house. He stretched until his bones cracked, and then shook out his arms. One of the greatest things about living so far out in the country: there was no one to stop him from walking around naked outside.

If he ever—when—he brought Kerrigan home, he would take her body outside, in the open air.
Maybe under the moonlight. He imagined how it would paint her skin in shadows and muted light, highlighting her hills and valleys.

Trager
groaned, and stared down at his erection. He’d have to take care of that soon, one way or another.

He needed a distraction. There was no more wood to
chop, no bike to tune up, and a freezer full of meat, so no hunting to do. The only option was a trip to Bullseye. He needed to talk to Asa anyway. Hopefully, the old man had some information for him.

An hour later,
Trager pulled up outside the ragtag bar that served as a resting spot for all types. He figured Bullseye was one of the few places on earth that could appeal to people from all walks of life. It was an interesting concoction of cowboys, bikers, Goths, and college students. And for some reason, Thursday night was always their busiest.

Stepping out of his 4-Runner, he sniffed the air, scenting a few
Ravendale wolves nearby. Hopefully one of them was Asa.

Inside, the booming music was loud southern rock. Five minutes from now, it could be boot
scootin’, and five minutes after that, hipster metal.

Trager
took a seat at the back of the bar and ordered a Corona. Scanning his surroundings, he looked for the wolves but didn’t see any he recognized. The stale air in the building had stifled their scent. He’d wait. All night if he had to. Asa frequented this place more than anyone else he knew.

The bar
was full of scantily dressed women. As a younger wolf, Trager might have enjoyed the scene. But ever since he’d gotten serious about tracking his mate, something in his brain had changed. These women, though attractive and more than willing to please, didn’t cause his blood to warm. In fact, their nearness—like with Avan—made him feel ill.

He smiled to himself. He belonged to only one.

His smile slipped. He hoped one day she’d belong to him too.

He wondered what she was doing tonight. Did she miss him at all? Was she curious why he hadn’t returned to see her yet? He figured she’d spent her week working. The elementary school was another reason he’d fallen so hard for her already. She obviously loved kids if she’d chosen to be a teacher. He bet she’d make an amazing mother one day.

Gulping his beer, and fiddling with a napkin, he didn’t notice when the bar became strangely quiet. Not silent. The music still banged out steel guitar chords, and a few who’d already had too much to drink cackled or hooted, but the overall noise level had dropped drastically.

Trager
looked around to see why. Over by the door, stood a couple of big-ass dudes. One wore a shirt with the sleeves cut off, and looked like he could bench-press Trager’s 4-Runner. Both massive arms were tattooed from wrist to shoulder. His head was buzzed and his eyebrows formed dual slashes above his eyes that dipped toward his nose, making a ledge out of his forehead. The other one looked just as big and bad. His blond hair was shaved on the sides, and he sported a full beard that nearly touched the top of his chest. But it was his eyes that held people spellbound. They contained the kind of fury you could light with a match and blow the whole place up. The danger held there was tangible.

Trager
didn’t recognize them, but he knew exactly who they were. Ravendale wolves. And going by the extreme response of everyone in the room, not just any Ravendale wolves. This was the alpha and his second.

For once he wished he could stop breathing. The imprint, the blond one was sending out was intense. It made
Trager’s wolf paw at him to get out, to go far away, so he couldn’t be under the alpha’s influence.

Never
. Trager would never allow it. He was a lone wolf, and he’d bow to no alpha ever again. When he’d submitted to the Ozarka guards it was to save his sister only. It wouldn’t happen again. And especially not to the leader of the Ravendales.

The alpha strolled to the counter, his tattooed frie
nd following closely behind, eyes lasering about the room. He banged his fist on the counter and the bartender jumped, fumbling a shot glass.

Asshole.

Trager chugged his drink and tried to soothe his wolf with thoughts of Kerrigan. The animal part of him was struggling under the influence more than others in the room, to not submit to the alpha’s imprint.

The first woman to approach the blond bastard was sent on her way. Three others, all dark-haired, were given the same treatment.
Trager almost laughed as they scrambled toward a group of frat boys who were pretending to play pool. He nodded at the bunch, hoping they’d take their little party somewhere else. But the guys were each taking a turn sizing up the Ravendale wolves.

Time passed while
Trager did his best to ignore the alpha and his second. He waited for Asa to show. It was possible the old man wouldn’t make an appearance with his own alpha in the building. Maybe he couldn’t.

The first time they’d spoken,
Asa made it clear that he was only doling out information to Trager in hopes of preventing a war. He’d told Trager the Ravendale alpha claimed to want Ozarka land for their own—which was a valid reason to challenge another pack—but what he really wanted was revenge.

Asa
had proceeded to tell Trager the story of how the Ravendale pack came to be. Almost twenty years ago, when Trager was only four years old, Jax, the alpha of the Ozarkas, took a mate. Trager remembered the grand celebration, and the way the alpha’s mate had been paraded around camp in a fancy dress. People had brought the couple gifts and sang songs and played games. Trager had eaten more candy that night than he could hold, but his tiny wolf had kept him from being sick.

What
Trager didn’t know were the circumstances surrounding the most important mating in Ozarka pack’s history. Besh, their new first mate, did not come willingly to her mating ceremony. Even though she bore the alpha’s mark, his imprint, and she was his destined mate, she hadn’t wanted to belong to him. The reason chilled Trager to the bone: she’d had another.

Besh
was in love with a wolf not destined to be hers. And worse, the wolf was in love with her too. They’d attempted to run from Jax but his team had hunted them down, brought her home, and beat her lover nearly to death. As his punishment for trying to take what was the alpha’s, Jax had ordered him to live, remaining with the pack so the wolf could watch Besh become Jax’s mate.

But the beaten heal
. And members of the pack who knew Besh’s hand had been forced, rallied behind the young wolf. Time passed and he, along with his supporters took their complaints to the pack Elders, who called for a forum. Hopeful that they could free the young female from an unwanted mating, the adults of the pack gathered in the arena. The forum had been cut short though, with one statement from the first mate: “I have chosen my fated mate, Jax, of my own free will, and hereby request that the liar and traitor, Cael, be expelled from the Ozarka pack for the remainder of his life.”

Trager
stared at the blond beast at the bar. Cael hadn’t just been expelled. He’d taken a third of the pack with him. And apparently, he’d grown it to such a number he felt he could take down the alpha who’d stolen his love.

But what about the rest of the
Ozarka wolves? The innocents like Gabby? They didn’t deserve what Ravendale was planning.

Asa
slid stealthily into the seat across from Trager. He was massive, but nothing compared to Cael and his muscle-bound cohort. More along the lines of Trager. The older wolf hunched his shoulders, apparently trying to seem smaller or more inconspicuous.

“About time,”
Trager muttered.

A red eyebrow, tinged with gray, arched. “Things are a bit… volatile right now.” His gaze drifted over to his alpha. “Besides, it’s not like we had an appointment, loner.”

“True.”

“So, have you come up with a plan yet?”

“Me? I thought you were going to work some kind of magic on your end while I put out a warning to Ozarka.”

Asa
ran his hand through his hair. “I suck at magic. Listen, I don’t know how much longer the Elders can hold him back.”

Trager
glanced at the alpha. His glare sliced through the room like a missile seeking a target.

“What’s your stake in all this?” He knew
Asa had never been a part of Ozarka so he had no connections there, no reason to tip the scale. And as for his claims about not wanting a war, Cael looked like a freight train that couldn’t be stopped.