Logan's Acadian Wolves (47 page)

“Will she be vampire?” Logan asked.

“I cannot say. I won’t lie to you, this is generally the outcome, but like I said, I’m not certain. Is she truly wolf? Is she still at all human? Complicated questions, no?”

“She belongs to me.”

“As her potential sire, I fully and altogether release her to your care, Alpha. I do not wish to command her mind. I swear it.”

Unable to resist the possibility of her salvation, Logan conceded. “Do it,” he whispered.

What choice did he have? If she returned as vampire, he’d love her as much as when she’d been wolf. It was her soul that he loved, no matter her being.

Léopold breathed a sigh of relief as the Alpha capitulated to his suggestion. In truth, in all his years, he’d never converted a wolf. He was unsure about how his blood would affect her, but they had to try. He stripped off his jacket and rolled his sleeve. Positioning himself next to Logan, he bit into his wrist, and offered it to the Alpha. Logan took Léopold’s wrist and pressed it to Wynter’s mouth.

The blood trickled over Wynter’s face. Listless, she wasn’t swallowing.

“Command her,” Léopold told him urgently.

“I can’t feel her…she’s gone,” Logan insisted.

“It’s the only way. I cannot do it.”

Logan meditated, searching his mind for his mate. The tendrils of his power discharged, seeking Wynter. He laughed as a jolt of recognition hit him. She was there, here or on the other side, he couldn’t tell. Her spirit danced in the wind.

“Wyn, sweetheart,” he spoke lovingly. “I need you to listen to me. Please, please come back to me. Hear me and drink.”

In her mind, Wynter floated somewhere lovely and peaceful. But she was alone. The familiar voice sang to her heart, willing her like a lure.
Logan? Where was he?
The mist caressed her skin as she glided along her journey. But the voice called to her again.
Drink? Drink what?
No, this place was warm and comforting. Like a mother’s womb, she contentedly existed.
Now, Wynter.
Logan. Logan, her mate. Memories of his scent and love flooded her mind. Back to Logan, she needed to find him.
Drink.

The taste of power slid down her throat, setting off a firing of synapses. Life. Love. Her mate. So far but so close, just within reach. A wisp of hope flickered and she extended her hand to capture it. A little more and she’d awake to him. A river of sanguine vitality permeated her cells, arousing her soul back to Earth.

Astonished, Logan felt his heart squeeze in relief as he watched his mate flare to life, her pale lips suctioning at the wrist he held. The strained look on Devereoux’s face told him that he suffered silently. But Logan wondered if the vampire struggled to conceal pain or lust. Léopold Devereoux, her dark savior, was lethal yet benevolent. As their eyes met, a respectful understanding passed between the two men. He’d forever owe the vampire; a debt he’d gladly repay.

“Enough,” Léopold grunted.

Logan slid a finger in between her mouth and Léopold’s wrist, breaking the seal. Wynter gasped for air, and then choked, blood spilling from her lips. Her eyes flew open; she was shaking as if she were a newborn babe. She cried, a mixture of fear and happiness spinning through her mind as she glanced from Léopold to Logan. The realization that she’d almost died slammed into her.

“Logan,” she whispered.

“Sweetheart.” Logan cradled her into his arms so that her head rested against his shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I’m not dead?” she asked with a small smile.

“No, you’re not. You’re very much alive, thanks to Devereoux.”

“Léopold,” the vampire corrected. “I do believe we all should be on a first name basis, no?”

“Léopold,” Logan agreed with a smile. He’d never been so grateful to another person in his life, vampire or not.

Wynter tried to process what Logan had just told her. Léopold had saved her life. She struggled to comprehend it. She had died. His blood.
Drink.
Logan had told her to drink. She drank Léopold’s blood? Connecting the proverbial dots, Wynter sat up, pushing out of Logan’s arms.

“Am I a…? No, I couldn’t be a…?” She glanced from Logan to Léopold then to Dimitri.

Logan cupped her cheek bringing her gaze to his again. He sniffed. “You still scent wolf, so that’s a good sign. We don’t know how it could affect you, but you’re alive and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Oh God, Logan. I love you so much.” Wynter gently pressed her lips to his. Her forehead fell against his as she spoke to him. “I was so scared. I’m sorry for going on that boat.”

Logan stopped her from going any further. “No, Wyn, don’t blame yourself. We knew they’d come for you. I should never have agreed to take you out there.”

“I can’t believe Fiona betrayed the pack like that. Oh God, where is she?” Wynter asked in a panic.

“Dead,” Léopold confirmed.

“You’re sure?” Logan asked. If she wasn’t dead, she would be.

“These swamps are quite messy, wolf. All that mud. Just look at my shoes.” Léopold rocked back, brushed his slacks and attempted to right his sleeves. “Good thing your wolves showed up to assist me or I may have ruined my suit. Those gators, they do enjoy an impromptu meal.”

Logan shook his head with a small laugh. He’d never mistake the vampire’s humor for weakness. Léopold was deadly, but he appeared to do the right thing every now and then. Logan couldn’t say he fully trusted him, but he’d gained an ally without a doubt.

“Léopold, thank you.” Wynter shifted from Logan’s arms and extended her hand to him. She could have sworn she saw him blush.

Léopold took Wynter’s wrist, gently holding her fingers. He caught Logan’s gaze as if to ask for approval. Logan nodded and with a brush of a kiss, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand.

“Anytime, my fine doctor. That lecture. You made quite the impression on me,” he winked. “The world needs your beautiful mind. I’m honored to have helped. And should you spring fangs, please call on me anytime for assistance. But as I’ve assured your Alpha, you are released from any bond with me, as you and Logan are mates.”

Léopold released her hand and stood. He adjusted his pants and scanned the room for his jacket. The black suit looked nearly impeccable as he smoothed out the small wrinkles.

“Dimitri,” Wynter said solemnly.

“Wyn.” Dimitri scooted next to Wynter and carefully gave her a hug. She’d almost died. The whole pack had come so close to destruction. His eyes rimmed in moisture, the emotion he’d held back burst forth. Logan clamped a hand on his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.

“It’s okay, D. She’s alive.”
Maybe a vampire, though?

“Look at me. I’m cryin’ like a baby over here. How sad is that?” Dimitri laughed in embarrassment and pushed up onto his feet. “I gotta get out of here and relax. Do something manly like go sit in the hot tub with a beer and a cigar.”

“As much as I usually love the swamp, I’m with you. It’s time to get the hell out of here.” In one smooth motion, Logan stood, carrying Wynter.

Jake and Zeke approached the cabin and together ripped away what remained of the door. Logan strode through the doorway, carrying Wynter toward the boat. Dimitri, Léopold and the others followed him.

Léopold glanced at the naked wolves surrounding him and shook his head.
Wolves and their nudity.

“Seriously, do you wolves ever wear clothes?” he quipped with a raised eyebrow.

“You should try it, vamp. You might like it,” Logan replied. He stepped into the boat and cuddled Wynter. “Free like the wind.”

“A cold day in hell, mon ami.” Léopold shrugged his nose in disgust.

“You gotta loosen up,” Dimitri told him.

“Ah, says the man who weeps,” Léopold teased with a smile.

“Tears of joy, man. And for the record, I’ve got plenty of game,” Dimitri jibed in return.

“Léopold, maybe you need to start small. A skinny dip, perhaps?” Logan suggested blithely.

“I highly recommend it,” Wynter added. Naughty thoughts played in her mind, remembering her time in the pool with Logan.

“A recommendation from the lady? Well, that may be advice I’ll take.” Léopold appeared lost in a sensual thought. “A beach, no? Oui, that I could do.”

“Just add a hot woman into the mix, and he’s all in,” Dimitri laughed.

“I knew we could convert him.” Logan kissed Wynter’s hair and reflected on the night’s events.

Ironic how one day he’d been single and fighting to be Alpha and today he’d fought for his mate’s life, assuring his pack still had a leader. With Wynter back in the safety of his arms, he looked forward to solidifying the bond they’d started. Even if she did turn vampire, he didn’t care. As long as Wynter stood at his side, nothing would come between them.

He stole a glance at the debonair vampire who’d saved his mate. On the surface, Léopold wore his years like his designer clothes; tightly reined without a blemish to be found. But Logan’s intuition told him that the centuries had taken a toll on Devereoux. He had recognized the familiar loneliness which danced in Léopold’s eyes. Had he been a romantic at some point in his life? A courageous fighter, waging war for the greater good? Logan reasoned that he might never truly know Léopold’s motives. One thing was certain; the vampire had revealed a side of him rarely seen by others; one that even Logan hadn’t known to exist. Léopold, even if just for a moment in time, had cared, not just about Wynter but about the good of the Acadian pack.

Wynter artfully tied the bows on her pink negligee as if she were wrapping a gift. As she played with the ribbons, she thought about the past few days and how Logan had sweetly cared for her. It hadn’t taken long for her blood volume to regenerate after her near death experience. And so far, she hadn’t felt any vampiric tendencies. She’d even successfully shifted a few times in the house just to test it out. She laughed to herself thinking about how Logan had enjoyed waking up to find his red little wolf jumping on the bed.

Her brush with death forced her to contemplate the next steps in her derailed career. The choice to go into virology had been born out of her desire to help Emma. And now that she’d done that, she needed to figure out a new future, one that included Logan, pack and hopefully children. But since she’d been injured, they hadn’t made love. Logan worried like a mother hen. She knew it was killing him not to press forward with their mating, but since it involved a blood exchange, he’d been reluctant, not wanting to accidentally hurt her.

But her wolf paced impatiently, in anticipation of completing the bond. Wynter looked in the mirror and glossed her lips. She was determined to tempt Logan into their mating. He needn’t worry, she was no porcelain doll. She was a red-blooded wolf who couldn’t wait to mate with her Alpha. As she brushed out her tight curls, she hoped he would enjoy her plan and be unable to resist her. She laughed to herself, knowing he’d loved to play. Smoothing the see-through fabric, Wynter took a cleansing breath. Yes, this would be fun.

Logan’s cock was harder than a cement post. While he’d been more than grateful that Wynter had rebounded, his self-imposed celibacy wasn’t going so well. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bend her over and sink into her hotness every single time he saw her. At dinner, she’d teased him mercilessly with the grilled kielbasa, and he’d nearly lost his mind. His wolf growled and bit, encouraging him to mate. But he wasn’t going to do anything to put her recovery in jeopardy. Unwavering, he’d put her health first and stifled every animalistic thought that had crossed his mind.

As he lay in bed reading, he glanced up, noticing the sound of the bathroom door opening. Logan watched intently as a glimmer of pink teased his eyes. Holy Fuck. What was she wearing? He dropped his iPad, fascinated by the scene. Wynter bent over the dresser, wiggling her bottom. Her creamy globes peeked out at him from underneath the nightie. He swore; damn, his cock could get harder. When she turned around, a broad smile broke across his face. The large map blocked his view and he knew right then and there, she was up to something, a tad more than the average seduction.

Wynter unfolded the New Orleans brochure, smiling coyly. Her horn-rimmed glasses and camera on her wrist added to the character.

“Sir, I’ve been walking around the city all the day, and I can’t seem to find my destination,” she told him. She held the paper so that it hid her entire body except for her eyes.

Logan laughed. Was she seriously role playing again? If she didn’t show him what was behind that map, he’d leap off the bed. Okay, he was game.

“I know New Orleans well. I’d be happy to show you around. Just where exactly are you going?”

She lowered the map slightly, giving him a view of her ample cleavage. “I’m supposed to meet my friends. I don’t know if I should go off with a stranger.”

“No stranger here, cher,” he said, falling into his best Cajun accent. “I promise to keep you safe.”

“Oh dear, now how did I get so lost? Maybe you could help me find my way. I have this map here but I can’t seem to make heads or tails of it.”

“I’d love to help you out, show you around. Perhaps you’d like to hear music?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“A ride on a riverboat, then? Very relaxing,” he suggested.

“No.” She lowered the map so he could see her dusky nipples. They strained to escape their sexy sheer confines. “I’m looking for something.” She pretended to glance at the map.

Logan pushed the blanket off his fully nude form, allowing her a view of his enormous erection. He lazily put his hand behind his head.

Her eyes met his and then took a long peruse of his muscular body. Her pussy clenched at the sight of him. She knew she couldn’t keep the dialogue going for much longer. Incredibly hot, he was laid out for her like a delicious dessert; one she’d like to lick from head to toe.

“There’s much to see in our fine city,” he drawled with a smile, smelling her arousal. His little vixen was getting herself as hot and bothered as she intended to do to him.

“Yes, yes there is. Like the art for example.” She smiled and looked down to watch him stroke his shaft. “It’s spectacular. I especially enjoy viewing the marbled statue.”