Awakened by the Wolf (19 page)

Chapter 29

“C
ome back to bed.”

Contemplating Brice's sleepy grumble, Cassie grinned.

Barefoot and wearing the cutoff sweats he slept in, he rubbed his fingers through his bed-head hair. His eyes drooped in a grumpy, it's-too-early-to-be-awake scowl. Elbows pointed outward, fingers laced over his mouth, he stretched his back in a full-body yawn.

Tall. Sleek. Magnificent.

The scars slashing his golden skin only added to his powerful beauty and larger-than-life presence. Cassie would have been a liar if she claimed that she didn't like cozying into the heat of his body. Truth be told, she enjoyed the comfort of his warmth far too much. Especially early in the mornings when his temptations were strongest and her resistance at its weakest.

It would be so easy to succumb to his assertions to provide, protect and pleasure. If she were in a more secure position, financially and emotionally, she might give in.

Might?
Who was she kidding? She'd be the one dragging him back to bed.

Forcing her gaze off his sexy reflection in the bathroom mirror, she finished pinning her hair. “I won't skip class. After the first absence, it's too easy to miss the second, then third.”

Dressed in her drab resort uniform and an old, faded scarf around her neck to hide the ugly bruises, Cassie could've been a billboard ad for hideous fashion don'ts.

Being poor sucked. Someday she'd be able to afford the stylish accessories she saw in the magazines at the campus library. She'd even splurge for a decent haircut instead of trimming the ends herself. Until then, spending one unnecessary penny was as much a fatal distraction to her future as entertaining romantic notions about Brice.

His hands cupped her waist and her pragmatic resolve wimped out. She loved how he never let an opportunity to touch her pass. Maybe it was rapid conditioning. In the beginning, he'd pulled her close for her scent and she had offered no resistance. Lately he didn't stop at smelling her skin. He boldly proceeded to lick and kiss the trail he nuzzled. Since she failed to protest the progression, her body whirred with expectancy.

The sandpapery rub of his morning stubble against her ear caused her nipples to pucker against the satiny bra cups covering her small breasts. They ached to be fondled and teased by his long, magically talented fingers. Other places ached, too.

Close proximity to him was not in her best interest. Every reasonable thought in her head dissipated whenever Brice stood too close. Or touched her. Or looked at her with the molten gaze that melted her in place, making it impossible to escape.

“Have I told you how much I appreciate everything you did for Granny?” Hot puffs of air wisped against her neck. “And for me now that she's gone?”

Just what she needed. A good dose of reality to remind her the bubble she lived in this week would pop within a few days of Margaret's memorial.

Grief swelled in Cassie's chest over the loss of a woman as dear as a grandmother, and the stark loneliness that would return upon Brice's departure. Like Margaret, Brice had bore a tiny chink in the armor guarding her heart. If he broke completely through the barrier, he'd break her, too.

Cassie peeled away from him. “Margaret was a special woman. I'm privileged to have known her.”

“There's nothing wrong with admitting that you loved her, Cas.”

A burning lump rose high in Cassie's throat. Love was an extravagance she couldn't afford. “I have to go. I'm dropping off a strudel at the lodge for your mother's brunch with Margaret's bunco group, and I don't want to be late for class.”

Brice followed her into the kitchen. “I'll take it. I'm expected to make an appearance there, anyway.”

“Thanks, but I'll do it so you won't be tempted to eat it before the brunch starts.” Cassie slung the oversized purse she used as a book bag over her shoulder and tucked two pastry carriers beneath her arm. “Oh, I'm stopping by the R&L after class and then going to work.”

“What time do you get off?”

“Eight thirty.”

Brice frowned. “Can someone cover for you? I want you to join me at the dinner tonight.”

“No way.” She'd feel awkward eating with wolfdom's elite, especially since she had either checked in or handled room issues for most of them. Besides, she didn't know which fork or spoon to use. Nor did she have an elegant dress to wear.

“Maybe you'll change your mind.” Brice flashed a fiendish grin. “I have all afternoon to convince you.”

“I'll be busy with work.”

“Not if I chase everyone away.” Brice's sleepy eyes simmered with mischief. He cradled Cassie's face and gave her the softest, most alluring kiss.

Temptation incarnate, that's what he was. Good thing he ushered her out the door before she yielded.

“Drive safe.” He waited on the porch while she backed out of the driveway.

Her dreamy sigh became lost in the screechy voice in her head, reminding her again that she was no Cinderella, and Brice was not her Prince no matter how much he tried to charm her.

In a little over three months, she would graduate from college. Then phase two of her plan would begin. Finding a new job where she would gain the professional experience and clout needed for phase three—operating her own business. Her investment would be small-scale, but she had plans to grow and expand.

Sadness tainted her usual excitement. Somehow the future seemed less golden than she'd once imagined, and it was all Brice's fault. He'd mucked up her realistic expectations with his fantasy wolf tales. She needed to get a handle on her hormones and shore up her common sense before she stumbled down a path she couldn't turn back from.

* * *

“What the fuck is going on?”

Too late to prevent Vincent Hadler's knuckles from slamming Shane's jaw, Brice barreled between them. Ever since the despicable wolf had pawed Cassie, Brice's inner wolf would snarl at the sight of him.

“Best to keep your nose out of my business.” Cracking his neck, Hadler straightened his shirt and sleeves.

“What happens in Walker's Run is
my
business, particularly when it plays out in the parking lot of my family's resort.”

“This is between me and the
boy
.” Hadler made a sucking noise through his teeth. “Why don't you scamper inside to hold your daddy's hand while he cries over his dead mama and let me finish teaching this little shit some manners?”

The muscles along Brice's spine tightened all the way to his neck. Without taking his eyes off Hadler, he cocked his face toward Shane. “Is he blood kin?”

“Hell, no.” Shane spit on the asphalt. “And no longer pack. I've declared disassociation from the Black Mountain pack to join Walker's Run.”

“Doesn't mean you've been released.” Hadler's sharp laugh held no humor and a lot of malice.

“Semantics best left to Alphas, not their henchmen.” Brice fully faced Hadler. “I doubt Reynolds cares to make this matter a bone of contention. However, I will.”

“I don't need your help,” Shane snapped. “I can handle him.”

Brice didn't take offense. The young wolf wanted to prove himself against an obvious longtime bully. Unfortunately, he didn't have the experience to win a dogfight with Hadler.

“As an initiate, you're entitled to the same protection any Walker's Run pack member would receive. Your fight is our fight, should it come to that. No wolf stands alone.”

Holding back his words, Shane's teeth clicked in restrained frustration. Finally, he nodded on a heavy breath and lowered his eyes.

“Share and share alike, is it?” Hadler's upper lip lifted over his sneering smile. “If that applies to your women— particularly the redheaded one—I might be persuaded to join.”

Brice's vision darkened. The rush of adrenaline and testosterone rang in his ears, begging him to pound Hadler into the ground along with his persistent sour scent. “This is your only warning—Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her.”

“It's my right to scent and scope possible mates. Little Red smells as sweet as always, which means you haven't claimed her.” Hadler's smugness dirtied the air. “She's open season.”

“With or without my bite, she's
mine
!”

A dangerous gleam lit Hadler's eyes as he mouthed the words,
Not if I claim her first.

Brice's fist flew true, connecting with the intended target in a smashing crunch he repeated over and over again.

Shouts rose over the howls in his mind. He tasted blood before he registered the smell. Still, he hammered ruthlessly until half a dozen hands pulled him from the frenzy. Sentinels surrounded Brice as Cooter escorted Hadler from the parking lot.

“Stand aside,” Gavin Walker snarled. The sentinels parted for him to approach Brice. “What the fuck is going on?”

“If Hadler lays one finger on Cassie, I'll rip off his goddamn balls and stuff them down his throat.”

“Everyone, return to your posts.” A ferocious frown weighted Gavin's mouth. From his back pocket, he pulled the worn handkerchief he'd offered yesterday and handed it to Brice. “Are you all right?”

Brice nodded, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.

“You're the Alpha-in-Waiting of Walker's Run, not some brawler in a biker bar. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn't.” Brice tossed the handkerchief back to his father. “He threated Cassie and I responded.”

“Considering the circumstances, I understand how you might feel protective of Cassie.”

Brice doubted his father understood anything about the depth of what he felt or the lengths he would go to keep her safe.

“So much has happened since you've returned,” Gavin continued. “Your emotions are raw. Don't confuse duty with affection.”

“I'm not confused.” A mate-bond had formed between him and Cassie, and he wouldn't allow anyone to threaten their budding relationship.

“When I set a time frame for you to claim a mate, I simply wanted to see you settled, here, where you belong.” Gavin scratched his short white beard. “I don't want to lose you a second time because you unwisely chose an ill-suited mate to spite me.”

“Did you consider I may have found my one true mate?”

Gavin's eyes drifted from Brice's face. A slight twitch rippled along his jaw.

Brice humphed. His father's silence told him all he needed to know.

* * *

The thick gray haze that overshadowed Cassie's morning drive to the campus lightened beneath the midday sun. Glimpses of the majestic mountain scape flickered in her peripheral vision.

She pressed the accelerator to give the old clunker more gas before the engine stalled. The incline in the two-lane road wasn't steep, but the car always needed a little oomph to coax it over the top.

A vehicle pulled next to her, blasting an impatient horn. The driver appeared unconcerned about cresting the hill in the wrong lane with no visibility of oncoming traffic.

Cassie tapped her brakes. They felt a little sluggish, but her speed dropped and the silver convertible zipped past.

At the top of the hill, Cassie eased off the gas. The weight of the car and forward momentum carried her down the other side. Mindful of the road signs warning of dangerous curves and falling rocks, Cassie took her time rounding the bends. Each time she pushed the pedal, the brakes felt squishy. She glanced at the strudel secured in its carrier and made a mental note to ask Rafe to check her brakes when he changed the oil.

Ahead, the little sports car hugged the curves without slowing. Cassie imagined that the driver lived life the same carefree way.

It would be nice—no, not nice. Liberating, she decided. It would be liberating to be unconcerned about responsibilities and consequences. Imogene never worried about anything. She flitted from one place to another, barely scraping together enough money to buy MoonPies and sodas from the gas stations along the interstates and highways and back roads that carried them to more than two dozen this-is-our-new-hometowns in half as many years.

Imogene could be footloose because she had Cassie to worry about their circumstances. Cassie, the practical penny-pincher. Afraid to step outside the plan because she didn't want to end up broken and destitute like her mother.

Greeted by another curve, Cassie touched her foot to the brakes. The car didn't respond. She pressed the brakes again and again. Her heart pumped forcefully with each frantic stomp on the pedal. The car wasn't traveling very fast, but the next three miles were all downhill.

She carefully downshifted one gear at a time until she reached first. The needle on the speedometer dropped, jiggled and resumed its climb. The corkscrew curve ahead was too sharp to navigate at increasing speed.

Beneath her breastbone, Cassie's heart hammered a white-hot searing pain through her chest. Every breath seemed to singe her throat and lungs.

Resisting the urge to yank with all her might, she engaged the emergency brake, slow and steady to avoid throwing the vehicle into a spin. She tried to create friction, weaving the car from side to side. Nothing worked.

She edged onto the shoulder of the road. Beneath the tires, gravel flew in all directions. Since there wasn't a guardrail, she dragged the passenger side of the car along the clay embankment. The screech of metal scraping the barrier vibrated through her clenched jaw like the raw, pulsing pain of a tooth in need of a root canal.

The car finally jerked to a stop. Cassie's entire body shimmied except her hands. Her hands were rock-steady, cemented to the steering wheel.

Cassie had no idea how long she sat locked in that position before she had the strength to lumber out of the car, clutching her shoulder bag. Her wobbly legs forced her to lean against the open car door for support.

The clunker's hood had crumpled. Only a twisted, empty socket remained of the right headlight, and the bumper dangled at a vicious angle. Because the passenger side had wedged against the embankment, Cassie couldn't see the rest of the damage.