Feral (Wolf Ranch 3)

Boyd took over for me. “We’re having a barbecue,” he said to the newcomers. “Why don’t you come on back?”

Tom and Janet appeared out of nowhere, tentative smiles on their faces.

“We were thinking you and Kara could head up to the lodgehouse on the mountain. Show her the hunting grounds and have some private time together,” Janet said.

Jesus fucking Christ. They wanted me to take her up there and fuck her.

Mark her youthful flesh with my teeth. First thing.

The idea turned my stomach, but my knees had been knocked out from under me by Willow.

Fucking Willow who wasn’t Natalie. The human who tricked me to use for her investigation.

“Fine,” I muttered, pulling the keys out of my pocket for the truck. I tipped my head at her. “Let’s go.”

Her eyes were big, face pale. The poor girl didn’t want this any more than I did, and I wasn’t being all that nice. That wasn’t fair to her, so I took a deep breath, let it out, to calm myself. Of course, that meant I picked up her scent.

Sweet. Gentle. It did nothing for my wolf.

I opened the passenger door for her and helped her climb in, even though she was perfectly capable of doing so herself.

I started the truck and drove up the mountain, happy to leave the fucking festivities behind.

It took me a while before I noticed the tension in the cab. The awkward silence.

Now we were alone together, driving further up into the hills, for the two of us to “get to know each other.”

I couldn’t blame Kara. She sat beside me, ankles crossed, shoulders back. A small smile played at her lips, but I could tell it was forced. She was tense, and if I felt like I was being set up, then she must feel like she was being sold off.

“I’m sorry,” I said, looking over from my seat as we bumped along down the dirt road.

She looked up at me through her dark lashes. I had to admit, she was beautiful. Strong. Well-built. Dark haired, full curves, a sweet scent. My wolf couldn’t find anything truly unappealing about her.

“I’m sorry,” she said back and laughed awkwardly.

“Kara—” I began.

“I don’t want this,” she blurted.

Something in me relaxed. My wolf, maybe.

“I’m twenty-two and know my own mind.” Her voice was soft but adamant. “I’m sorry, Alpha, but it’s the truth.”

The truth. Fuck, the first thing this woman gave me was honesty.

“I don’t want this either.” The words sounded rough but true. I may not want Willow any longer, but there was no way I could mark another female. It would be impossible.

She relaxed. “You’re older.” Her tanned skin glowed with embarrassment as she looked away. “I mean, older than me. You’re alpha. I think you know your mind, too.”

“I do.”

“Can’t you stop this?”

I pulled over in a turnaround and parked the truck. No way I was taking her up to that cabin like a virgin sacrifice.

“It’s stopped,” I promised.

“Just like that?” she asked, with almost wonder.

“Just like that,” I repeated. Cocking my head, I studied her. “Do you want a mate?”

Her eyes lit up with pleasure. “Oh yes. Very much so.” That didn’t bode well. “But not you,” she added. “With all due respect, Alpha—”

“Rob, please. If a couple of elders think they can sequester us until our wolves have decided we’re to be mates, then you should at least call me by my name.”

She studied me for a minute, bit her lip. “Can I tell you the truth?”

I sighed. “Please.” My mind immediately went to Natalie. To Willow. To her lies. Truth seemed to be a good thing right about now.

“I know who my mate is… and it’s not you.”

I almost laughed—relief my only response. “You’ve found your mate?”

I was fourteen years older, and I’d finally thought I’d found mine. Too bad she wasn’t worthy.

“Yes. He’s in the Wind Rivers pack. We met in January at the winter games. I told my father, but Callum’s not an alpha. He’s an artist. A glass blower and makes the most beautiful pieces.” Her hand went to a glass pendant attached to a chain about her neck.

I didn’t like the idea of a father forcing his daughter into an unhappy mating, even if it was because he thought it was best for her. “I can speak to your father.”

She quickly shook her head, her long hair sliding across her shoulders. “No, that’s all right. He knows how I feel but says I’m too young to know my own mind.”

“And I’m too old to find my own mate,” I added.

“You should be able to choose.”

“I thought I had,” I admitted before I caught myself.

She grinned then. “Ooooh. Tell me about her.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You’re a nice guy, Rob. I think we could be friends, right? Tell me about her. I told you about Callum.”