Betrayal: Reckless Desires (Dark Wolves Book 2) (3 page)

Wesken tilted his head to the side. “I haven’t been to the garden in a while. Mind if I come along?”

Amalija’s heart leaped. This was when he was supposed to excuse himself and do other things, not hang around with her. When he’d had the other pack mates turn to give her privacy to shift, something inside her melted a little. Okay a lot. Not only was he protective of her, but he was a little possessive. Something the woman in her wasn’t that keen on, but the wolf inside her needed. If it weren’t for the secrets she kept, she would have loved to have a mate like Wesken. Beneath the growls and snarls, he was a good man who cared about his family—about his pack. Plus, he smelled like heaven, and when those intense eyes of his locked on her, she felt like the entire world around her melted away.

***

What he should be doing was heading back into the forest and looking for any sign of the enemy. It wasn’t just the Mahehkan pack they had to contend with—though over the last few days, he’d scented them on the outskirts of the Komoro territory—but also the Erritrols, their oldest, most ferocious enemies. They knew where to find the Komoro pack—and Malec. It was only a matter of time before they came back. He and Argram had discussed moving the entire village, but that would only delay the inevitable. No, they would stay and fight.

Only months before finding and joining the Komoro pack, he, as well as all of his men, including Miga and Malec, were Erritrol. They had been released from a centuries-old curse by a woman with a heart so pure that she’d sacrificed everything for them. But not all Erritrols had been saved. Those who’s hearts had had no kindness left in them at all, who had succumbed too deeply to the darkness, had remained the savage, evil beasts they were. And now they wanted Malec. Maybe they sought their salvation, but he didn’t think so. It was more likely that they wanted to hurt Miga. She had left her pack to join Argram and turned her back on her family, and the Erritrols weren’t a forgiving species. He should know, he was one—all his men, as well as Miga were. At least, they had been before the curse had been lifted.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Amalija stuttered. “Um… I’ll go drop this off, and then we can go.”

She turned down a laneway toward her home. The small village boasted a couple of dozen homes, each well maintained by the entire pack. Some were larger than others, but everyone seemed happy with their arrangements. His house, three doors down from Amalija’s, was nothing more than a two-room building, but rain and the wind didn’t make their way in. It was more than he’d ever had.

When she reached her steps, she hesitated and fidgeted, but she didn’t release her tight grip on the package she’d been carting around. “I’ll be right out.”

“What’s in the bundle, Amalija?” He hadn’t intended on asking, but if his nose were right, and it was, there was more in there than dried meat.

Her eyes widened, and she licked her lips as she took a step up, bringing her closer to being level with him before she turned to face him. She took a deep breath and licked her lips again, drawing his attention to them. She made his blood heat without even trying. He had yet to get the image of her nude body out of his mind—probably never would. But if she didn’t keep that pink, little tongue of hers in her mouth, he didn’t know how much longer he could resist. And he had to resist.

She glanced at her package and shrugged with a sigh. “Some dried meat, a change of clothes, a hairbrush, and some soap.” She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye.

Okay, that explained the faint flowery smell. But why carry soap around and guard it as she had been?

“There’s a lake not far from where you found me,” she said before he could question her further.

Images of her, naked as she waded into the cool water, had him as hard as a rock in seconds. He knew the lake of which she spoke. He’d been there a few times on his patrols. The secluded area off the north shore was the perfect spot where a wolf could lay in the sun and enjoy the quiet. The rougher terrain made it less likely that their pack mates would make the trek since there were other bodies of water that were closer and easier to access. She’d been less than a mile from it when he’d approached her.

He took a deep breath and moaned as her scent invaded his lungs. If he was affected by her nearness, she was just as affected by his. He didn’t realize he was moving until the warmth of her body caressed his naked chest, and tendrils of soft hair teased his skin. All he had to do was lean forward to get a taste. When she took a breath and it hitched in her throat, he was lost. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he froze. She feathered her lips across his with the softest touch. He hardly felt it, yet pleasure streaked through every part of him. When she pulled back a little, he groaned, and his hands went to her hips. He pulled her flush against him and took her mouth. He didn’t know how to do tender, or gentle. It didn’t matter. The moment he crushed her mouth with his, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and took what she wanted.

His fingers dug into her ass. A small part of his brain screamed at him to stop. To put some distance between them. But the other part, the one who wanted to drown in this woman’s scent, to roll in it until every wolf knew who she belonged to, squashed the other. Before he knew what he was doing, he had her up the steps and her back pressed against her front door. He ground against her, making them both moan. The pounding of his heart blocked out all sound as he devoured her. His jaw ached, and his cock throbbed.

Mine
, his inner wolf growled into his mind. Wesken froze. His? No, she wasn’t his. Chest heaving, he pulled his mouth from hers, but try as he might, he couldn’t release her. Not yet.

Amalija clung to him. Her breasts
heaved
beneath the fabric of her shirt as she struggled to catch her breath. When she finally opened her eyes, with her pupils dilated and the all the heat and passion shining in them, he groaned.

He looked at her lips, puffy and pouty. Why had he stopped kissing those lips?

“We can’t,” Amalija said in a breathless whisper as she turned her head before he could take her mouth again.

We can’t.
Those two little words didn’t extinguish the fire raging through him, but they doused it enough that he could think. She was right. They couldn’t. Well, they could, but he wasn’t that much of a bastard. She might think he was hers, but he knew better.

Amalija’s heart thundered against her ribs, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath as Wesken strode down her walkway and turned toward his home. She didn’t look away. Not until he’d gone through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Kissing him had been a bad idea. It had silenced his questions, and she’d been able to avoid outright lying to him, but the last thing she needed was to have an affair with her mate. And that’s what would have happened. Had she not put a stop to it, they would be inside her house right now, mating like wild animals if the chemistry between them was any indication.

What the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t—obviously. What she needed was to stay as far away from the man as she could. At least until she could come clean and beg forgiveness for her deceit. But by then, she suspected it would be too late. For her, anyway. Oh, they might allow her to stay with the pack, but Wesken was a man of honor. If she’d learned anything from her interaction with him and his men, it was that they valued honesty and loyalty. Though her intentions were good, she couldn’t claim either of those.

None of that changed what she had to do. She still had to drop off her package. Roxie needed her, and she wouldn’t let the she-wolf down. She was a couple of years younger than Amalija, but they had been friends. Even if they hadn’t been, no female deserved the treatment the Mahehkans bestowed upon them. She would get it ready again and go after dark. It was riskier, and if any of the men found her, she wouldn’t have an easy excuse, but she was running out of time.

With her bundle filled again, she left it in her bedroom and set off to work in the garden. If nothing else, the manual labor would burn off the sexual energy strumming through her body. Her lips still tingled from the kiss she and Wesken had shared. She had no doubt that if they had continued what they had started, the sex would have blown her mind. The energy sizzling in her body was proof enough of that. But she also knew that if she gave in, she’d want more. She wouldn’t want to let him go. Ever. In the heat of the moment, her canines had poked through, and it had taken all of her willpower to keep from marking him in some way. Even it if wasn’t the mating bite, she’d wanted to claim him for all to see. The urge had been strong—too strong. She couldn’t tempt herself like that again. Not until she could figure out a way to tell him who—what—she was.

She was almost at the garden when Lizzie came rushing down the trail, her eyes moist, and her cheeks damp.

“Lizzie, what’s wrong?”

“The garden, someone has been in there. They destroyed two of the beds.” Her hands flapped before her as she recounted the broken plants and uprooted veggies.

Amalija took a deep breath, her nose finding what she already suspected. Mahehkans. “Is anyone there?” she asked in a rush.

“Beth. And Jinnie.” Lizzie’s eyes grew wide.

“Go. Run. Get Argram and Wesken. Get them now,” she commanded the other woman. The breeze wasn’t strong enough to carry the enemy’s scent to the village quickly, and they didn’t have time to spare. As kind as Lizzie was, there wasn’t an aggressive bone in the Omega’s body. Beth and Jinnie were the same. They’d be sitting ducks for the Mahehkan wolves if they were still in the area.

She didn’t wait to see if Lizzie obeyed. By the time she rounded the next bend in the trail, she heard vicious growls and a high pitched yelp. She didn’t bother pulling her clothes off, choosing instead to shift as she ran. Her shirt tore away, no problem, but her jeans wouldn’t give. The pull of muscles straining against the denim had her stumbling to the ground, but she finally wiggled free and bolted for the garden.

Two men stood guard, while another had Jinnie on the ground. He had one hand around her neck, holding her so tight that her face was red and her eyes bulged a little. Her shirt was torn down the center, exposing an area on her chest that was already turning a deep red. The bastard had struck her. Fury drove Amalija faster. She wouldn’t stand a chance against three of them, but she’d give them a good fight and maybe the Omegas a chance to flee.

“Where is the bitch?” the man pinning Jinnie down growled, his face an inch from the petite woman’s nose. “We know she’s here. Roger wants her back.”

Before he could register the warnings from his friends, Amalija leaped on the man, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. He roared and shook, trying to dislodge her, but she had a firm grip. If he flung her off, he’d lose a chunk of flesh in the process. The bitter taste of his blood coated her tongue, but she didn’t care. She’d swallow every last drop it if meant getting the others to safety. She only had a few moments before the other two males shifted and came to her captor’s aid. Sharp teeth sank into her hind leg, making her yelp and release the man.

Twisting in the air, she managed to free herself from the one who had bitten her, but the other was right there, plowing into her, knocking her to the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jinnie scoot farther away, Beth helping her. Using her sharp claws, she raked at the wolf’s underbelly. She bit at everything and anything she could get her teeth near. The men didn’t even look at the two women making their getaway
.
The Mahehkans hadn’t come for either of the two ladies. No, they had come for
her
. A long, deadly roar sounded. It was close. The vicious sound stopped her attackers, but only long enough that she could leap away from them. When she landed a few feet away, her left leg buckled beneath her, and she crumbled to the ground.

One of the wolves looked to the edge of the garden, then bolted for the other side with a yelp and its tail tucked between its legs.

But it was too late for him—for any of them. Argram and Wesken barreled into the garden, followed by another dozen wolves. Some were original Komoro. Others were the new pack. All were there to defend her and the other women.

Wesken was on the wolf who had torn her leg apart in seconds. His massive jaws clamped over the other wolf’s neck. It struggled to get away, but with a strong shake of Wesken’s head and a sickening snap, the wolf stopped moving.

Before she had a chance to look, the other was laying at Argram’s feet, and one of the other men had caught up to the last, who had almost made it to the tree line. That one still lived. Shifted back from his lupine form, the man stood there, naked and shaking.

“Give the girl to us, and all this stops,” he screamed, his voice high-pitched and squeaky.

Orrin, the wolf who’d given chase, shifted into his human form. His big, meaty fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling on his ass.

Wesken came to her, his big body casting her in shadow. His gaze ran over every inch of her, and when he caught sight of her leg, his wicked growl filled the garden.

He stalked toward the man, head down and snarling the whole way. With his muzzle inches from the man’s face, he stopped and shifted. He grabbed the man by the throat and pulled him to his feet as though he weighed nothing at all. The male whimpered and shook but didn’t dare move or resist. “Tell your Alpha that if he wants anything of ours, including our women, he will have to come for them himself.”