Wolf Next Door (2 page)

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Authors: Heather Long

BOOK: Wolf Next Door
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Long hair—she’d always had the most beautiful long hair, satiny and shimmery under the sun. How he craved the sight of that hair, and he’d ordered her never to cut it, but it was gone. Her hair barely fell below her ears, chopped to what his sister would call a bob, and revealed the slender column of her vulnerable throat.

Claire Webster was home.

She opened her mouth, and he turned. Stalking across the yard, he leapt the fence and landed on the other side. Ignoring his own house, he made it to his car and jerked the door open. The metal protested and he had to force himself not to rip it off the hinges. In the front seat, he jammed the keys into the ignition and fired the engine up. It growled with nearly as much force as he wanted, too. The headlights cut on and illuminated Claire.

She’d followed him.

Ignoring her, he slammed the vehicle into reverse and spun the tires a little as he peeled out.

Goddammit.
Claire-fucking-Webster was home. His mate—the woman who repudiated him and left Willow Bend for another wolf. Fury tore at his throat and he roared. Planting his foot harder on the accelerator, he raced toward the dark roads he knew well.

Why the fuck was she home?

Chapter Two

D
awn came far too swiftly
. The patch of sunlight from her window angled perfectly to slice across her tear-swollen eyes. Scrubbing the heel of her hand against her face, Claire sat and studied the white curtained room with its festive blue trim. Deeply feminine with its touches of lace and delicate things, it also boasted a white cedar wood-carved bed. A gift from her sixteenth birthday and, though she’d never slept in it, her parents had replaced the bed in her room with the hand-carved monstrosity.

Why? She’d never know. They’d both passed and weren’t answering any questions. Pushing the covers away, she rose and stretched her legs. She’d arrived home late, pausing at a diner on the highway to place a call to the new alpha and confirm she still had permission to enter their territory. Though she’d been born and raised in Willow Bend, she’d willingly broken pack ties to relocate to Arizona and the Sutter Butte pack.

Mason Clayborne was very different from the previous alpha. Toman had been damn near unapproachable, at least for her sixteen-year-old self. If the visiting Hunter, Justin, hadn’t broached the topic for her, she’d probably have remained tongue-tied and mute. Though he’d come to Willow Bend on work for his alpha, Justin had no problem making the request for her. Her chest ached and she rubbed her hand over the spot. As though it happened only yesterday, she fought the wave of nausea accompanying the sick, sinking sensation of Toman’s attention focusing on her.

“So, you wish to sever your pack bond and travel to Sutter Butte.” It hadn’t been a question, but with the full weight of his attention on her, sweat pooled at the base of her spine and her wolf wanted to be on their belly and crawling.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she’d nodded. “Yes, sir.”

If he’d asked why, if he’d made her explain, she’d probably have folded and begged. Justin edged closer to her, and his wolf bristled. Toman was alpha of Willow Bend. Alpha carried power and it filled the room, but Justin didn’t seem to share her need to bow her head or cut her eyes away. If anything, the more she fidgeted, the stronger he’d become. When he brushed her arm, she hoped some of the strength he displayed rubbed off on her.

“What do I care if a little girl wants to run away?” Toman shrugged. “Pack your shit and go. Just don’t call in a week telling me you changed your mind.”

It was over. She was free to go. Her wolf trembled in shock and Claire reeled. The conversation around her continued, but she remembered none of it. Justin holding her hand, and guiding her out had been the only reason she left Toman’s house. When he drove her home to her parents, she tried to explain to them—


S
top
,” she whispered aloud, and her wolf whimpered. Her parents had been furious. Worse, they’d been hurt by her choice. She’d had no time to comfort them. The bonds binding her to the pack had been slipping away since Toman waved his hand. The world around her narrowed further when her mother locked herself in her room to cry. Her father had come to help her pack, insisting she take a warm coat and her favorite pair of jeans. Then he’d found a photograph and pressed it into her hands.

The last words her father said to her had been, “This is what a family looks like. Remember that as you drive away. Remember when you made a choice for your freedom, you chose to destroy our family.”

He never did speak to her again. When she’d called home, her mother would answer or the phone simply rang. The calls always ended with her mother’s tears and her father’s silence. Eventually, she stopped calling. No need to punish them.

Swiping away the tears on her cheeks, she shook off the melancholy and straightened the room. A layer of dust had been on most of the furniture. She’d stayed up for two hours after Tyler’s unexpected appearance and subsequent storming off to clean.

I was waiting.
Waiting for the wolf who’d plagued her childhood and teen years to return. He’d not bothered. The one wolf she’d dreaded learning of her return was the same wolf she’d hoped to see, yet he’d walked away.
So it’s done.

The worst had happened. She’d seen Tyler. Tyler walked away. It was his turn, really. Hopefully he hadn’t stormed off to some other pack. The Buckleys would never forgive her. Speaking of the Buckleys, she parted the blinds to gaze out her bedroom window. Their house stood exactly where she remembered it. A sprawling three—no, four-storied Victorian.

She had no trouble identifying Tyler’s window. She knew exactly where his bedroom was—
or at least where it used to be. He probably doesn’t live with his parents now.

Making herself leave the window and take a shower didn’t let her escape the memories. Like ghosts, a new one waited for her around every corner. Under the hot spray of the water, she scrubbed away sleep and tried to clear her mind. She was rinsing her hair when the doorbell chimed through the house.

The lime-cucumber soap and steamy water occluded her nose. Poking her head out, she called, “I’m in the shower. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“All right.” The masculine tone wasn’t familiar and, after only a brief gut clenching moment, she relaxed. Visitors were to be expected. Willow Bend wasn’t so huge they wouldn’t notice her arrival. She had to clean up, change and get her ass to the alpha’s house regardless. It had been late when she came in or she’d have already stopped by.

Once out of the shower, she toweled off at speed and dug out the last of her clean clothes from her overnight bag. She had two suitcases, neither unpacked and she wanted to make sure of her welcome before she truly reclaimed her home.

Their home
. The faint lingering scents of her parents ghosted around her. The woodsy scent of her father’s favorite cologne and the spicy, sweet scent of her mother’s softness combined with the foods she always liked to cook. Onions, peppers, and hot chilies with cinnamon—her stomach growled approval at the idea.

That’s what I’ll do. I’ll go shopping and fill the house with food scents while I clean and make some decisions.
Her wolf settled. The semi-constant state of agitation had left her skin itching since she’d gone to dinner with Cassius Braun. The alpha of Sutter Butte was a huge, affable man and so easygoing it was easy to forget he was alpha of a brutal pack. The sheer strength of a man who held the pack to the hard laws they followed awed her sometimes.

The natural charm left more than one wolf on uneven ground when he turned his inflexible will in their direction. She hadn’t stood a chance. Dressed in jeans and a slightly wrinkly t-shirt, she took the stairs two at a time. The scent on the porch was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Oh,” she said, opening the door and letting in the second most welcome aroma on the planet. “You brought coffee.”

“Damn, darling. Don’t do that to a wolf then tell him your sexy smile is for the coffee.” Dylan Royce, a hunter of Willow Bend and a densely muscular wolf, flashed a wide grin in her direction, alleviating any possible sting from his words. Dark, close-cropped hair left his Slavic heritage on display for all. Like so many in the Willow Bend pack, he came from mixed ancestry, but the strength of his jaw and the high cut of his cheekbones reminded her of his father. The Russian transplant had been a dear friend to her parents. He held the coffee cup toward her.

The morning air was far cooler than she was used to, but her wolf stretched at the first hints of autumn in the air. Real autumn, with turning leaves, cold nights and warm, balmy days. Meeting Dylan’s gaze when she closed her fingers around the tall coffee cup, she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His wolf peeked out from his eyes, a reminder of the pecking order of pack, but she wasn’t precisely pack yet. She still had to make the formal request, pledge the oath and have Mason accept her.

One step at a time…

“Mason still wants to see you first thing, but Melissa kept them up all night. She’s teething.” That’s right, their alpha had an infant daughter.

“Oh, no worries. I await his patience.” Because, truth be told, he could make her stand in the pouring, icy rain naked while he had a seven-course dinner and she would. It was the nature of things. Fortunately, Mason didn’t seem to be that kind of alpha.

“Good girl.” Despite the verbal pat on the head, nothing in his manner said condescension. He held a hand out to her after she had her first couple of swallows of coffee. “Do you mind?” Politeness echoed in the request, but she could hardly tell him no on this front. He needed to know her scent.

Settling her hand on his, she let him draw her close. He rested his cheek to her hair and drew in a deep breath. Mirroring the action, she soaked in the scent of northern woods, flying snow, and the faintest hint of crushed, dry leaves. The rich reminder of their home left her dizzy, but she’d know his scent anywhere.

“You still smell like home.” Approval rang in his words, he brushed a kiss to her forehead, then let her go. “You belong in Willow Bend.”

While no chastisement filled his tone, she bristled at the reminder of her exodus. “What did you think I would smell like?”

“Sand. Grit. Dry heat.” He shrugged. “I catch a note or two, but you smell like home.”

Not entirely sure how to respond to the comment, she drank her coffee instead. She’d spent years with Sutter Butte. Cassius gave her home and a place within the pack, that she carried none of their scents was a disappointment. Her wolf remained indifferent on the subject. They hadn’t belonged there; of course they didn’t carry the scent.

“Let’s get the hard questions out of the way.” Dylan’s easygoing manner belied the business note in his tone. “Do you have anything in the car you need to bring inside? Any deliveries we should be expecting from Arizona?” No moving truck would bring items into the center of Willow Bend without the hunters inspecting the contents. A moving truck was too much like a Trojan Horse, and no one invited trouble into the center of their pack.

“No,” she said, dispelling any concern on this issue. “I didn’t have much there to bring with me, and I donated my place to a young, newly-mated couple. They were just starting out and couldn’t afford their own things, so since I was coming home, I gave them mine. I did have a couple of suitcases but Lauren went through them when I stopped at the checkpoint to let Mason know I was here.”

“Good deal. What about a job? Do you need one? Do you have one? What’s your plan?” The question reminded her of the adage,
a productive wolf was a safe wolf
. Boredom was their greatest enemy, even more so than hunger or greed. A bored wolf got into trouble no matter how old they were.

“I don’t have a job yet. I planned to put my application into a couple of the places around town. I have enough in savings that I should be all right for about three months.” She sighed. “I have enough work in the meantime just getting their house in order and deciding what I want to do with it.”

It was too large for a single person. Her parents had built the home right after they’d mated. They planned to have a dozen children. Instead, they’d ended up with only her very late in their lives. Her mother had been over seventy when she’d gotten pregnant. While late children weren’t unheard of, they usually happened to couples who’d produced several children not a childless pair.

She’d been a disappointment on so many levels.

“Planning to sell?” Curiosity filled the question, and Claire shrugged.

“I’ll ask Mason if he had something he wanted to do with the house.” Which seemed only fair. That it had sat empty for a year since her parents’ death was a kindness. Maybe they didn’t need it. Maybe they did. “If he does, I’ll get it all sorted out, then look for a job and a place to live.” A place to do more than exist, with a pack to run with again…
I can have all of that in Willow Bend. This is my
home.

As long as Tyler Buckley let her stay. He’d stymied her on so many fronts, from the moment he stalked across the playground when they were five and announced she was his mate until the day she’d left town.

Once, he’d given all of her friends an imperious look, pausing on Guy Tomlinson. The two boys had glared at each other, but Tyler ran him off then ordered her to stop being friends with him.

She could still see his smug expression when he’d finished issuing his orders. After, he’d bounded off to rejoin his brothers, he’d ignored her…at least until Guy came to play with her the next day. For months—no, years—he’d continued his campaign of control, constantly telling her what to do, who to be friends with, and what she could wear.

The first time she’d ever bought a mini skirt, she’d been so excited to show her friends at school. She hadn’t even made it up the steps of the school before Tyler picked her up and bodily hauled her home. They’d fought the whole way. He’d refused to let her go to class with her legs out for the world to see.

In the middle of the fight, her parents interrupted them, then her father had agreed with Tyler. The skirt vanished after she changed out of it and, since she’d caught Ty’s scent in her room, she was pretty sure she knew who’d destroyed it.

He never let her do anything he didn’t like. So, if he didn’t like her being home—would he let her stay?

“Hey.” Dylan caught her chin in his hand and nudged her face up so he could meet her eyes. “We’ll find a place for you here. I’m only asking to see if you need help getting settled. Mason will take care of you. He’s a good alpha.”

Appreciating the comfort, she forced her shoulders to relax. “Thank you. I’m nervous.”
About so many things
, but she left the last unspoken. Closing her eyes, she rested her face against his palm.

“It’s going to be all right.” Dylan’s voice washed over her in a soothing refrain. The strength, the pride of place—home—they all rolled together. “We’re happy to have you home. Alexis will be thrilled to see you, Gillian, too. I’m sorry your parents aren’t here, but you’ve got plenty of friends here, Claire.”

Before she could respond, a familiar scent tickled her nostrils and a growl reverberated through the air. Without stiffening, Dylan shifted his position and stood between her and the sound.

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