Ruthless (Wolf Ranch 6)

A mate? She’s his mate? a few people whispered.

My mother’s eyes went round, and she laid a hand on her cheek with pleasure.

“And that is how I’m handling it,” Rob continued. “Rand will win over his mate and bring her into the pack. Then I’m certain we can come to an arrangement that works for Ms. Sheffield and the pack.”

My stomach knotted up. I didn’t like hearing Rob announce my intentions to the whole pack like that, especially because while the fact that the words were true, they weren’t completely accurate. He was being diplomatic and trying to shut it all down. I knew it was to quell the dissent against his leadership. To get the assholes off his back and mine. Still, the moment he ended the meeting, I stalked out, skipping the potluck. I couldn’t stay even though I knew my parents would want to talk. To celebrate. I couldn’t now, not when my mate was being threatened.

Nathan Brown had better watch his back. Because I would mate Natalie. I’d bring her to pack meetings if she wanted to come. If he made the tiniest remark about her, I’d fucking kill him.

My brother may have more experience in that area, but I’d never been more certain of anything in my life.

16

NATALIE

I’d spent the last twenty minutes in the storeroom counting liquor bottles. It was early and the bar was quiet. It was after happy hour and well before the evening crowd arrived although Tuesday didn’t get packed like the weekend. I adjusted the count of tequila on the clipboard then moved onto the vodka. It had been a few days since I’d told Rand he needed to chill the fuck out… at least that was the way I thought about it.

The guy was the epitome of alpha, over the top male.

Every time I worked, he showed up to walk me to my car and then followed me home. He sat at the bar in what I now considered his usual stool and ensured no one messed with me. Not that Cody or the weekend bouncers would allow it. We’d spent every night together either at my house—where the smoke alarms had been installed and the wiring work was in progress—or at his cabin. I’d had a little chat with myself, meaning my pussy, and she’d won. We were going to sex it up for as long as we could with Rand.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t still resisting his claim on me. He didn’t love me. Of course, I didn’t love him, either. While I’d known him most of my life, I didn’t really know him. Although, he would argue with me about that since we were more intimate than I’d been with anybody. That didn’t mean I was in love. I didn’t even know what love was. It wasn’t like I’d had a good example of it at home. I never felt loved by my parents. The closest I’d felt to affection was the kindness from Uncle Adam. I liked my friends. But the Big L? Love? Nah. It was a stranger to me. I’d never professed love to the few boyfriends I’d had in college.

I’d learned to have sex without love. If I waited to be in love with someone to have sex, I’d have died a virgin.

I had no idea what was going to happen in the future, but I knew I couldn’t hang my hat on Rand’s supposed undying love and a happily ever after for the two of us. Planning on this thing going somewhere would be a big mistake.

That was what it felt like with my work, too. I was going nowhere.

I was in a flipping storeroom counting liquor bottles. I had an advanced degree in music, and I was in a cowboy bar in the middle of Montana. I’d taken the bad situation of being a broke grad student who hated her field of study to something worse. I wondered if on some subconscious level I came here so I wouldn’t have to play music any more. There was nothing in Montana for me to do as a violinist. Lessons to local kids? As if that was going to pay the bills.

But I also didn’t want to be a professional bartender. Cody was great, and he was a solid business owner, but slinging drinks wasn’t what I wanted to do with myself.

I grabbed the clipboard and shut off the light.

“There you are!” I stopped halfway to the bar when two blonde women came up to me as if we were long lost friends. One was in her early thirties, short with glasses, and the other one was curvy with a sassy smile. The one with glasses nudged the other, but looked at me as she said, “Careful of the storeroom. Last time Becky was in there, she got knocked up.”