Wolf Next Door (4 page)

“She can apply to a different pack or she can go Lone Wolf, but she won’t be allowed here in Willow Bend.” A.J. blew out a breath, then took a long pull from the beer. “After hearing all of that, I have a question for you.”

“Not gonna sponsor her.” He tested the door and bent the handle in half. For fuck’s sake, he had to stop breaking the damned door.

“Wasn’t going to ask. Mom is already planning to volunteer.”

The metal sheered away under his hand, and he faced A.J. “What?”

His brother’s wolf met him gaze for gaze, but Tyler didn’t back down. “I said Mom announced this morning that she would sponsor her. Do you want me to fight Mom on this or not?”

The door came completely off the car. Kicking the metal across the graveled drive, he watched it slam into the wall. Cracks spread up from the impact.

“I’m going to guess that’s a yes…”

Claire Webster hadn’t been home five minutes, and she was destroying his life.

Again.

“
M
rs. Buckley
, you don’t have to be my sponsor. In fact, you really shouldn’t,” Claire protested, her palms on the table. She couldn’t believe she had to have this conversation, or that she was standing in Tyler’s house arguing with his mother. Of all the wolves she’d faced off with over the years, challenging Tyler’s mother reduced her to a whimpering pup. The urge to surrender to the woman’s maternal warmth powered through her reservations about being in Tyler’s home.

“Sit down. I’m making some tea, would you like a sandwich?” Mrs. Buckley waved off her argument as if she hadn’t even made it. “Ranae, get the bread down for Claire won’t you?”

“Nope.” Ranae Buckley had been a little girl when she left. Now, she was a beautiful, lithe woman with dark hair and Tyler’s deep blue eyes. She didn’t look up from the magazine she flipped through. In fact, the only reaction she’d had to Claire’s arrival was to slam the door in her face. She’d pretty much ignored Claire since Mrs. Buckley dragged her in the house.

“Ranae,” Claudia Buckley said, rounding on her daughter.

The young woman met her mother’s scandalized gaze with pure calm. “I will not wait on her or provide that bitch with one drop of kindness. If you don’t like it, I’ll leave.”

Claudia blinked then her brows drew together. Her scent went from maternal to furious. “You will apologize for your mann—”

“No,” Ranae said, hurling the magazine away as she stood. Her dominance unfurled in the room, and Claire braced herself against the power rolling off the young woman. Within Claire, her wolf went predator still—they understood the threat and prepared to face it. How the younger girl managed to contain the sheer force of will, Claire had no idea, but even her mother took a half-step backward. “I won’t. I will not be guilted into helping the bitch that hurt Ty. Where’s your loyalty?”

“Maybe I should go.” If Claire had her way, she’d never have come inside. All the way through the meeting with Mason, she’d had A.J.’s gaze boring into her. Like his brother, A.J. hadn’t said a word, but she knew he’d weighed and judged her—and like Ranae, found her lacking. She couldn’t blame them.

“Sit down and stay put.” Claudia Buckley snapped. She never snapped. Claire sat. The older woman turned her wrath on Ranae. “Out of this room, young lady. March.” The force of two dominant wolves colliding was never a place to be. Claire was hardly submissive, but she hadn’t meant to ignite the fight. Better Ranae aim her fury at her instead of her mother.

The younger woman didn’t back down, not one whit. Her chin rose and her wolf blazed in her eyes. Claire’s wolf backpedaled at the force there. It was like being near Mason—or A.J.

Hell, Tyler too.

Unvarnished, undiminished power yet Claudia gave her daughter a shove and pushed her from the room. Their voices were soft, but it didn’t matter. Claire heard every single word.

“She doesn’t belong here,” Ranae snarled.

“As long as this is
my
house, Ranae, I will say who belongs and who doesn’t.” Claudia’s temper rode every syllable.

Fidgeting, Claire glanced at the door as it opened. She wanted out of the house, but her wolf worried about upsetting Ty’s mom. Claudia ordered her to stay and the command had one hell of an effect on her. She could have shrugged off the order, but she wanted to smooth over the jagged debris of the past. Uncertainty scrabbled through her.

Virgil Buckley strode inside, his usually genial face twisted into a terrific frown. He stared at Claire, and she fought to find a smile, a reaction, something—but nothing came out. Ranae’s voice rose in fury as she listed off all of Claire’s crimes.

The chief one being she’d thrown Tyler’s love back in his face.

Without a word to her, Virgil continued through the kitchen to the other room. The women’s voices rose again and, beneath them, Virgil’s tone was softer, but effective. They silenced.

The screen door swung open again, and Linc strode in. A.J., Linc, and Tyler were triplets, always identical in so many ways. She’d never struggled to tell them apart, and she could always pick Tyler from his brothers, but somehow in the intervening years, A.J. had changed. Linc still matched his brother Ty. They shared the same brooding good looks, warmed by charming smiles and easy grins, except—no such welcome softened the hard line of Linc’s mouth.

He focused on her. The argument playing out in the other room was clearly audible. The frost in his eyes chilled her, and her wolf focused. Fur bristling, she braced for his attack. Unlike his sister’s fury, Linc’s seemed to have purpose. They would never hurt Ty’s brother, but they were done being hurt.

Without saying a word, he crossed the room and took her arm then hauled her toward the door. “You need to leave. You are
not
welcome.”

Even though she didn’t fight him, his fingers bit into her arm. One minute she was in the kitchen, the next she bounced down a couple of steps to land on her feet in the yard. Linc prowled after her, and her wolf stopped scrabbling.

Menace poured through every inch of Linc’s posture. His blue eyes had gone wolf yellow. While she’d always been tall, she didn’t match the Buckley boys in height or in weight. They were big men with broad shoulders, thick chests, and powerful arms. “Get out of here.” The force pouring off him urged her back.

Claire was not a submissive. She was not even that low on the totem pole. In Sutter Butte, her dominance had been an issue—and her salvation. Her lack of interest in fighting over politics had protected her for a time—that and having Justin as an ally. Justin’s betrayal, however…

She shook her head.
Reminisce later.
Linc seemed intent on attacking her. Danger wreathed his actions, and she let her wolf rise within her. As powerful as the Buckleys were, Claire was not going to just roll over and let them rip out her throat. Maybe Mason was right to put her on probation. He hadn’t desired strife in his pack, and he’d made it clear that, for the time being, she was a guest.

Not pack.

The rejection stung her wolf, but the woman understood his logic. Actions had consequences. “I didn’t ask her to do it,” she told Linc. If she was about to get her ass kicked—a distinct possibility since she’d given Mason her oath to avoid direct fights—then Linc needed to understand she had a reason for being in his home. In fact, she’d come to talk Mrs. Buckley out of her offer.

She also didn’t plan to play victim to the potential violence he threatened to unleash. Promising to not fight was not the same as letting someone hurt her. No, she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again. Ever.

“I don’t care,” Linc spit out, coming to a halt in her personal space. Her hackles went up and, if she’d been in wolf form, her ears would have flattened and her upper lip would have curled. The aggression in his scent delivered his message—he wanted to show her teeth. “You don’t belong here. Not after what you did to him, you fucking coward. Fine, you didn’t want to be his mate. You owed it to him to say something, to give him a chance. But, no, you took off with your fuck buddy and didn’t look back to see the damage you left in your wake. You hurt one of us; you hurt
all
of us. If you think for one second that I’ll let you hurt him again…”

He shoved her, and she dug her heels in. She slid, but she didn’t fall. When his hand struck out, she caught the weighted side with a twist and drove her foot right into the side of his knee. He didn’t buckle, but he grimaced and twisted her. Off balance, she used his arm and completed the spin, hitting with both feet right into the back of his knee.

This time he went down, but he didn’t relax his grip, so she hit the pavement. Rolling, she shot to her feet to see Linc was already on his. He lunged, teeth bared, and she braced for the impact—which never came. A man raced past her and slammed into Linc.

The two crashed right through the yard, into the fence, and the wood shattered in splinters.

Tyler.

The growls and sheer brutality of the punches being delivered made her flinch. A second force strode past her and A.J. paused. Nothing kind lived in his eyes as he locked gazes with her. “Go. Don’t come back.” The fight went out of her, and her wolf ducked its head. They hadn’t wanted to fight Ty’s brother anyway. Hell, they didn’t want to fight anyone, not anymore. They’d had enough.

Pivoting, she tucked tail and hurtled out of the yard.

T
yler didn’t trust
himself to drive. Neither, apparently, did A.J. His brother insisted on giving him a lift back to the house from their father’s workshop. On the drive, he rehearsed exactly what he would say to his mother. Claudia Buckley set the course for the family as a whole. While she wasn’t as dominant as her sons or as her husband, it had never stayed her hand. As a general rule, they obeyed their mother because she was their mother.

Even A.J., second to the Alpha, lowered his eyes to their mom. While Tyler wanted to demand she drop her offer of sponsorship, the act would garner him nothing. So, he would be honest—her offer to help Claire hurt Ty. He could tell his mother that much. As she’d seen both he and Linc through the worst of their separation from A.J., she would understand.

They were half a block away when A.J. swore. Tugging his gaze from the distance, Tyler glanced up to see what caught his brother’s attention. He stared as Linc all but dragged Claire out of their house. Linc dropped her at the bottom step. Irritation swept under the surface of Tyler’s skin. His wolf roused, and his eyes shifted. The claws on his right hand sharpened, and he could almost feel the wolf surging upward, demanding to be loosened.

Linc was only removing her, probably. Then everything in Tyler stilled. Linc shoved Claire, and she struck back. The fierce little she-wolf not only struck, she managed to drop Linc on his ass even as she went down with him. One moment Tyler was in the truck, and the next he hit the ground, running.

Everything played out in slow motion. Linc was on his feet and lunging. Claire braced. Her arms up in a defensive posture, but she appeared ready for the fight. At twice her size, Linc would do her serious damage if he attacked. Tyler leapt the fence at the street side corner of their property, raced across the yard, and then hit his brother at full speed, plowing into him with all the aggravation and fury he’d experienced over the past twenty-four hours.

They tumbled together through the second fence on the far side. The wood cracked and splintered. A jagged shard slammed home into his arm. Blood scented the air—his, Linc’s, it didn’t matter. His wolf wanted out, and Tyler stopped reining in his wolf. He drove a fist into Linc’s stomach then caught his chin on the upper cut. His brother’s growls matched his in ferocity.

He took a blow to the side of the head. Then a second. Linc might be big and fast, but he fought strength for strength and never went for the low blow or the dirty shot.

Ty had never been so nice. He drove his knee into his brother’s crotch. If Linc hadn’t jerked to the side, he would have unmanned him. They broke apart, circled then charged again. With every punch he took and every blow he dealt, Tyler let the rage out. His right eye burned and blood filled his mouth.

Grappling with his brother had been a mistake. Linc slammed his forehead into Ty’s. Seeing stars, Ty stumbled backward. Then Linc had him down, but Ty flipped him before he could get the pin. It had finally dawned on his brother that Ty wasn’t roughhousing.

The same knowledge swept through Ty, and then Linc was off him. Lunging to his feet, Ty encountered A.J.’s hand on his chest. Their father had Linc blockaded and Ty gauged A.J.’s attention before he attempted to cut around him. He would take Linc’s head clean fucking off—

“Enough.” A.J. seized him then locked his arms through his and damn near dislocated Ty’s shoulder. The combination of command and pain pierced the rage hazing his vision.

Their father glanced at him, his frown tight. “You got him…?” Linc took advantage of their father’s distraction, and A.J. cursed as Linc’s fist caught Ty in the gut. Vomit threatened yet he kicked upward, his boot crashing into Linc’s chin. His brother’s head snapped back, and he toppled.

A.J. thrust Ty behind him so when Linc came up, A.J. drove the fist into his face that sent him down. “Down, and stay there.” His brother’s power rolled out in a wave, and it captured both Ty and Linc. Ty wanted to be on his feet, but he stayed on his knees and Linc stopped trying to rise.

“Son of a bitch.” Their father never cursed. “What the hell is wrong with the two of you?”

“I have this, Dad,” A.J. said, his attention unwavering.

Ty’s chest burned with every breath he took, and he struggled to keep the swelling sickness down from the last driving fist to his solar plexus. He could barely see out of his right eye. Leaning to the side, he spit out a mouthful of blood then met Linc’s furious gaze. “Don’t ever touch her again.”

“I wanted her out of the house for you, blockhead.” Bloodied spittle flew from Linc’s lips with every word.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Her. Again.” He concentrated on saying the words and not shifting. The urge to change and finish his brother off rioted through his system. Brother or not, neither he nor his wolf would tolerate Linc abusing her.

“Shut up, Ty.” A.J. cut off his line of sight. “I mean it. You’re not killing Linc, no matter how stupid he’s behaving.”

“Hey.” Linc tried to get to his feet, and A.J. turned on him. The focus had Linc sitting on his ass again.

“At some point in your life, you’re going to meet the wolf you’ll give up everything for, the one wolf you’d bleed from your soul to protect. When that happens, you better fucking hope neither of your brothers tries what you just pulled.” Cold fury discolored A.J.’s every word. “Whether we like her or not, whether we approve of her or not—actually, it doesn’t matter what the hell we think. Claire Webster is his
mate
. He chose her, and you
attacked
her.”

Hearing A.J. state the case so clearly exhausted the last of Tyler’s rage. His face hurt, his fists were bloody and raw, and his brother wore the damage he’d inflicted. Their father studied them all with a cautious wariness he should never have when dealing with his sons. If not for A.J.’s will, Tyler wouldn’t have stopped until he was dead or Linc was.

Wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his arm, Ty rose on shaking legs. “I need to go.”

“Wait…” A.J. said. “We need to make sure you’re all right, and we need to discuss this.”

“No,” Ty said, shaking his head. On the porch, his mother and sister watched them. The worry in his mother’s eyes cut him. The anger in Ranae’s expression closed behind a shutter, but he didn’t miss the paleness of her face. They were all staring at him.

Pitying him.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, forcing his spine straight. He’d walk out on broken bones if he had to. It didn’t matter. “Stay out of this thing with Claire.” He fixed his mother, then his sister, and finally Linc with a long look. “I mean it. She’s not your concern.”

“She hurt you,” Ranae burst out. “She’s coming between you and your brothers, and you want us to leave
her
alone?”

“Enough, Ranae,” their father said. He cut Linc off with a look. “This is your brother’s fight. His matter. We let him deal with it.”

“Virgil…” his mother began, but their father did something he never did. He faced his mate, and his power swept through the yard. Their mother dropped her eyes and sighed. “Very well.”

In all of their lives, Ty had only seen his father shut his mother down on two occasions. This would be the third. He was usually content to let his mate rule. Swallowing, Ty took a step backward, but his father raised his hand.

“Do not make the mistake of thinking we will not pay attention to what you’re doing. Make a choice, Ty, where that girl is concerned. Make a choice you can live with, then do it. If you boys do
this
again, it will not be A.J. you face.” No, it would be their father.

Dropping his gaze, Tyler lifted his chin and bared his throat. “Yes, sir.” Linc’s equally tired voice echoed the concession. Virgil Buckley was an easygoing man with no aspirations for politics or power. He’d raised his sons with a generous heart and high expectations—everything in his manner told them they’d failed him today, his disappointment a much sterner punishment than any physical blow.

Ty limped away from his family and headed around the house. At some point in the melee, Claire bolted. He caught the trace of her scent even through his bloodied and wounded nose. Halfway across the field separating their houses, he stripped out of his clothes and shifted. The wolf burst free and then shook his whole body. The aches and pains throbbed a lot less this way, and he’d heal more when he shifted back to human.

On four feet rather than two, he leapt the property fence and stalked toward the porch. He found her sitting on the front step, head down and face in her hands. Her shoulders shook. Despite the muffled, near-soundless action, he knew she cried.

Hardening his heart to her tears, he leaned on his wolf. The animal’s anger festered far deeper than his own. The wolf had recognized his mate a long time ago, long before Tyler even understood what it meant. Then their mate left them. Mates didn’t do that.

If they learned nothing else from her homecoming, they would know
why
.

She didn’t look up from her hands, so he sat on his haunches and waited. Sooner or later, she would have to acknowledge him. The minutes ticked by and she straightened, chin lifting. He met her red-rimmed gaze and refused to flinch.

“You shouldn’t have fought your brother,” she told him. Her voice was huskier than he remembered. Sexier.

What he did or didn’t do with his brother was none of her damn business. So, he stared and waited. When she was younger, she’d had hollows in her cheeks, such fragile, exquisite bone structure. He’d hated when she shifted, the brutal crack of bone and jerk of muscle on her delicate body worried him.

Her wolf, though, she’d been exceptional and well worth the torture of seeing Claire change.

“I’m sorry me coming home has created problems for you.”

He flicked his ears away. She still hadn’t mentioned what he wanted to hear. Her time in Arizona had done more than tan her skin to a lovely shade of brown. Supple muscle coated her arms and legs. Her shirt rode up over her belly and betrayed the taut pack of her abdominals. A hint of a stripe across the lower part of her ribcage caught his attention, but she tugged the fabric down.

Ears forward, he tested her scent. The sweetness he definitely remembered, but a bite rode beneath it. A bite he didn’t recognize. His lips peeled off his teeth.

Had she mated? Was it possible for her to have done so when she’d left him behind?

Wiping her face, Claire rose. “If you want to keep glaring at me, you can come inside. I’m—tired and I need to figure out what I’m going to do next.” Not waiting for his response, she strode into the house. The graceful sway of a predator comfortable in her own skin teased him and Tyler straightened. His Claire hadn’t been that athletic. She didn’t play sports and only hunted at specific times when she couldn’t get out of it—usually when he’d made her come along because he’d wanted her company.

A dozen questions flooded his mind, the chief among them being what happened to her in Sutter Butte? What had she become there?

Rising to his feet, he padded up the steps and followed her into the house. Tyler might have his reservations, but his wolf didn’t. He found her in the kitchen unpacking the basket from his mother. Studying the room, he chose the padded window seat. It was perfect for sunning oneself on cool mornings, something Mrs. Webster used to do. When they were little, Claire napped in the same window. He used to sneak out of his own naptime to check on her.

“You can sit there, if you like.” She motioned to the window. Tucking the front strands of her bobbed hair behind her ears, she studied the food his mother packed. “Are you hungry?”

After settling onto the window seat, he faced her. Yes, he was starving. For knowledge.

Claire took her time setting up her meal, then she filled a glass with water. Once seated at the table, she glanced at him. “Two can play that game, Tyler. If you want answers, you’re going to have to ask me the damn questions.”

Then she ignored him and ate her food.

Tyler didn’t blink, nor did he stop staring at her. She’d never spoken to him like that before. So why the hell did he feel like he’d missed this about her most of all?

More questions and even less in the way of answers.
When she’d finished her food, she cleaned the kitchen and began to work in her house. Tyler stayed with her, maintaining his vigil. His wolf was as curious as him about their mate.

They were patient. They would wait her out.

Hours passed. When she finally climbed the stairs to her room, he followed. At the doorway, she paused and glanced at him. She raised her eyebrows, and he met her gaze without a single sound.

“Have it your way,” she said and closed the door, shutting him out.

Stumped and more than a little fascinated, he settled into a spot at her door and kept his ears focused on the bedroom. She was right, he didn’t belong in her room, but she was wrong if she thought she would shake him this time.

This time, he’d get the damn deleted scenes.

D
awn arrived far too soon
and all Claire wanted to do was bury her face under the pillow. The days of running away from the world were far behind her. Rolling out of the bed, she made it out of habit. Her mother was a stickler for neatness and, later, her barracks required the same amount of care. When one was short on space, one had to keep what they had neat as a button.

Tyler’s scent lingered in the air. She knew he’d stayed, been violently aware of his presence on the other side of the door. He’d never scratched the wood or shifted and let himself in.

Was he still waiting for her? Curiosity nibbled at her, but she padded into her bathroom. During the height of her training, showering was considered a luxury. They’d trained for six weeks then dropped into the desert, no running water in sight. The deplorable conditions left her with a near obsessive need to be clean. Fifteen minutes later, dressed in a tank top and shorts, she braced herself to face the beast.

She hadn’t been able to get the image of Tyler plowing into Linc out of her head. The sheer violence of the act took her breath away and, if she were completely honest, ignited an interest she’d thought long dead. Tyler wasn’t waiting for her on the other side of the bedroom door. Disappointment dampened her mood, but she shook it off.