Ruthless (Wolf Ranch 6)

It had startled at Uncle Adam’s approach, took off running on three legs, favoring an injured one for a few hundred feet and then running like normal. Like nothing had happened. As if he’d never been crushed.

I’d raced downstairs and out of the house to meet Uncle Adam by the tipped tractor.

“Rand was under there,” I’d sworn, pointing to where he’d been, my finger trembling. “I saw him go under.”

But there was no one there now.

“Uncle Adam,” I’d said, my voice shaky. “I saw…” I’d drawn a breath, swallowed hard. “I saw… a wolf came out the other side.”

Rand had turned into a wolf. Like magic. Or… something.

Uncle Adam had gone very still. Then he dropped a hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye. “There are strange things that happen in this valley, Natalie,” he’d said, instead of telling me I was lying or making up tales. “Come inside. I’ll tell you a story.”

He’d sat me down with a glass of lemonade and told me the wildest story I’d ever heard.

A story I never forgot, but one that was hard to believe.

All these years, I still hadn’t been sure if it was all made up. If my mind had played tricks on me. On what Uncle Adam had told me. What I saw. As if he’d embellished onto what I’d told him, to make it some kind of fairy tale. Something fun for a kid whose parents dumped her on a Montana ranch for summers because they couldn’t afford daycare. Like an adult telling a child about the Tooth Fairy or Santa, so there was some wonder in life.

Now, almost fifteen years later, I knew the truth. Actually, I’d known all along, but this proved it. Uncle Adam hadn’t lied or embellished or told tales.

Werewolves did exist.

A gray wolf specifically. The one I’d seen before. The one who’d popped out from beneath the overturned tractor. I knew who’d been at the top of the waterfall.

He’d seen me naked.

Even with only the full moon brightening the night, I knew. The silver fur. While I couldn’t see them, I imagined the blue eyes.

Rand.

I climbed out of the swimming hole, trying to calm the trembling in my limbs.

I wasn’t scared. It wasn’t like I thought the wolf would hurt me. Nor the guy the wolf would shift into. I didn’t know why I shook. Why I trembled with newfound interest in the ranch hand from all those years ago. Maybe it was just the realization that the supernatural was real. Paranormal happened—and to someone I’d known for such a long time.

Right here in Cooper Valley. Right on my property. Uncle Adam had told me the truth. Trusted me with it.

I grabbed my short terry cloth robe that doubled as a towel and wrapped it around my dripping shoulders.

My nipples felt abraded by the soft fabric, and my pussy ached. I was aroused. Strangely eager. Maybe it was the wild excitement of seeing a wolf shifter up close.

Or maybe because it had been Rand? He’d been sixteen that summer. Big for his age. Handsome, even to a girl of ten who hadn’t known what handsome was.

In wolf form, he’d been beautiful. Enormous. Broad shoulders and a thick coat of glossy fur. Intense. Tonight, his focus had been on me. Only me.

I slipped on my sandals and followed the path back toward the house, a small smile playing on my lips.

Werewolves were real. Rand was still around. Hell, he was on my land now.

Somehow, it made my decision to move to Cooper Valley feel less crazy. There was a reason I was pulled back here. A reason beyond the fact that I’d graduated with a largely useless master’s degree in music, didn’t have a cent to my name and had nowhere else to go. I’d wondered why Uncle Adam had given the ranch to me when I hadn’t seen him in fifteen years. Maybe now, I knew the reason. Maybe now I was the only one with the secret, the one human who could be a good neighbor and protect it.

3

NATALIE

“Hot water would be good, but first fix the leak on the roof.” I sat at the kitchen table making a list of all the things that needed to be done on the house. And talking to myself. The backdoor was open to the warm day. I’d forgotten how beautiful summers in Montana were. How peaceful. I was getting used to the lack of city noise. No cars driving by. No other tenants in my crappy apartment building yelling at each other or the sound of someone’s TV. No ambulances or dogs barking.

Nothing but the wind and an occasional bird, which had me having conversations out loud. Scratching out the line PAINT HOUSE, I moved it further down the to-do list. That could wait although I felt bad for anyone driving by who had to look at the place. The clapboard siding was faded and peeling, and every time I came down the dirt driveway, I felt even more weary.