01 Taming the Wolf - Anna Avery (2 page)

“Anna, we need more wood,” Elle called from the kitchen.

Three months had passed after I was attacked in the mountains. The fates had something other than death in store for me, something far more complex. Fairytales weren’t just stories. One little bite turned me into a creature who answered to the moon with deep, carnal needs that were harder to ignore than a streaker at a football game.

“On it,” I told my pack-mate. It was strange to be a member of a pack. But I was thankful to have a group of people who shared the same affinity for the moon and the same animalistic emotions. I didn’t remember a lot about the day I was attacked, and no one stepped forward to claim me as theirs. Rumors of a rogue werewolf spread, but I wasn’t so sure. One day my memory would return, and I’d know who sired me—then I’d kill them for what they’d done.

I pushed through the screen door and headed around the back of the house. Every society has a pecking order: children listen to their parents, employees to their bosses, and a person climbs the ladder through time and hard work. I was at the bottom of the order here and expected to prove myself every day. The jobs no one wanted landed on my shoulders, and if I mouthed off or refused, I was taught a lesson through embarrassment. Adam, the alpha of our pack, would transform into his wolf and clasp my jugular between his teeth in front of everyone. When I first heard about that, I laughed, sure that it wouldn’t be all that bad. It wasn’t until it happened to me that I understood how humiliating it was. There was something in my DNA now that took on the traits of a common wolf. In their world, being reprimanded by the alpha in front of the pack was mortifying. You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson after the first time, but since then, Adam has had his teeth around my throat four other times.

Curling my fingers around the axe handle, I split the wood for the fireplaces. Before I was infected with wolf saliva, there was no way I could’ve swung an axe, let alone split piles of wood all day long. Now, however, I was stronger than an ox. It was both a gift and a curse. A gift because, well, it was cool to be able to lift a car, and a curse because I couldn’t use exhaustion as an excuse to quit.

The Everwood pack—named after its alpha, Adam Everwood—consisted of twenty-five members. Their homes were sprinkled within the Big Horn Mountains of Wyoming. It was my job to chop and deliver wood to each of their homes. I spent two days a week chopping and delivering, and the other five doing equally belittling tasks. My life BW (before werewolf) had been simple. I worked as a teller at a small bank, lived in the home my parents left me when they died, and came home every night to my dog, Jitters. My life AW (after werewolf) meant selling my parents’ home, moving into the mountains with the Everwood pack, and handing my dog over to my neighbor. Jitters didn’t like me now that I was a canine.

My parents died three years ago in plane crash with a newly licensed pilot. I told them not to fly with him, but they didn’t listen. They craved life and adventure and that had gotten them killed. They were the only children in their families which meant no aunts or uncles for me. A few of their cousins contacted me after they died, but not enough to notice when I suddenly vanished from my old life. If they called, they’d find the number had been disconnected and the house sold. I didn’t have a ton of friends or a love life that consisted of more than a couple dates.

When I was happy with the amount of wood I chopped, I pulled my Ford F150 around back and loaded the bed. I didn’t own a truck BW, but Adam insisted I trade my small sedan for something useful. At the time, I thought he meant a truck would come in handy for driving the rough mountain roads. Had I known what he really meant, the truck would serve as my delivery vehicle, I would’ve dug in my heels and kept my car—and probably end up with his teeth around my throat
again
. Life was a bitch and because of my attack, so was I—literally.

*

Driving from house to house was the most peaceful part of my day. The summer breeze blew through the cab while Lady Antebellum filled the air. I belted
American
Honey
, and the wind caressed my hand that hung out of the window. The sun glistened on the river, and the scent of flowers hung in the air. An eagle soared high above my truck looking for some critter to feast on. I loved summer and the life and cheer it brought. I intended to soak up every ray before winter reached the mountains.

I turned into the Anderson’s driveway and jumped out of the truck. Every home up here was made of logs. The only difference was the color of tin on their roofs. The Anderson’s chose navy and continued the theme in the color of their shutters and front door. I tightened my ponytail, unlatched the tailgate and piled the logs in a neat pile by their garage. Most of the pack held regular jobs and were gone during the day, but they were seasoned wolves and I was not. I had trouble keeping a lid on my inner beast, and Adam worried I’d snap and devour someone. The thought was enough to scare me, so I didn’t complain; even though, the alternative was being a work horse for the pack. I made six more stops before I went towards Adam’s home—I should’ve delivered to his house first, this was my little way of showing rebellion. I was in the middle of belting out another Lady Antebellum tune about the sun shining and clouds having silver linings, when I pulled into Adam’s driveway and choked on my words. Adam, all six-foot-three feet of him, was curled over the engine of his Silverado. The crunching of my tires drew his attention, our eyes locked before I looked away. It was considered a challenge to stare the alpha in the eyes for too long. I learned that lesson the way I learned all my lessons since becoming a wolf—the hard way.

I shut the truck off and hopped out. I stood perfectly still for a moment and bowed my head to acknowledge his authority and power over us mere unworthy subjects. The whole thing made me snort in derision—at least mentally. I wasn’t brave enough to defy Adam like I wanted to, my wolf wouldn’t allow it, it cowered in his presence—the pansy.

When a deep rumbling echoed in Adam’s throat, a sign to carry on, I turned and got to work unloading his supply of firewood. I spared a glance in his direction and immediately looked away when my gaze found his. It was a common occurrence for him to reprimand me for something, but he didn’t punish for admiration, luckily. It was pure instinct I found him attractive, all the female wolves did—perks of being the alpha. The gleam in his aqua eyes and the smirk on his full lips said he loved the attention. I heard stories about him, gossip that traveled on the lips of admiring females.
They say he takes what he wants, if you know what I mean
, one girl said with an anticipating smile.
He chooses a new mistress every month
, another claimed. That particular piece of gossip got my carnal juices flowing and fleeing. There were only nine women in our pack, how long before he got tired of sampling the same tail and came searching for something new? I was the newbie, the untouched wolf. The fact I might interest my alpha caused a frenzy of emotions. It’s hard to find someone attractive when you both resented and admired them. Adam took me in when I was lost, but he’d also shown me just how much of an ass he could be. None of the woman in our pack would confirm whether or not Adam had sampled their goods. I figured the reason for their silence was either: smart, mandatory, or it was just plain gossip.

None of it mattered though. If Adam so much as sniffed in my direction, Evelyn, or Eve as she preferred, would take care of me. Behind every alpha was an alpha female waiting to rip your head off should you even think about stealing her place of power. When I first learned my alphas were named Adam and Eve, I thought it was some sick way of paying tribute to them, like a bad nick name or something. It wasn’t. I was told there used to be twenty-eight members of the pack before Eve killed three females for moving in on her territory. With only nine women left, I was surprised the men weren’t chomping at the bit to raid our panties. Some were married, but most weren’t, including Adam and Eve. There were hookups from time to time, but only two couples in the entire pack were actually dating. If I had hopes of finding love, it wouldn’t be here. Ninety percent of human males were dogs; throw in a group of actual wolves and the pickings for a faithful, loving mate were slim to none.

I finished unloading Adam’s supply and was ready to jump in my truck and hightail it as far away from his lingering gaze as possible when he called my name.

“Anna, a moment,” he said.

What did I do now? Did I not stack the firewood to his liking? Was he going to make me move it around the house and watch me sweat while he sipped lemonade? Keeping my eyes to the ground, I walked over to where he stood and waited. I swear the man got off on making me uncomfortable. A minute passed while I stood in front of him, and he didn’t say one word. I didn’t dare shift my eyes from the gravel driveway or grumble like I wanted to, which I suspected was what he waited for. I also had the suspicion he liked disciplining me.

“Follow me,” his deep baritone ordered. I hated to admit it, but the wolf inside me quivered from the sound of his masculine voice.

The crunching of his footsteps headed towards the house, and I followed obediently. I’d been delivering wood for three months and not once had Adam invited me into his house. All of the gossip floated through my mind, and my heart beat harder with each step. Was he planning on ravishing me? Could I say no? Would I say no? How long before Eve ripped my throat out?

“Sit,” Adam ordered once we were standing in the kitchen.

I took a seat at the table and focused on my shoes rather than him. Being this close was like breathing underwater. Everything about him from his broad chest to his shoulder length blond hair, sculpted muscles, piercing blue eyes, and cocky attitude screamed alpha male. He knew what he was and how the woman perceived him. All he had to say was “open sesame” and legs would spread. It was barbaric, misogynist, and hot as hell—at least the beast within me thought so. The human part of me, the part I tried to white knuckle and hold onto like my life depended on it, thought it was as far from sexy as one could get.

“Sawyer is looking for a female to settle down with,” he began, and I could see the walls of my world crumbling. “I do not force relationships, but seeing as there are more men than women in our pack, I do ask you to at least go on a couple dates. The future of the pack depends on its successors, Anna.”

Was he asking me to have children? Before I even talked to the man? Oh he said it nicely, but what he meant was, “You
will
date Sawyer whether you want to or not.” Women fought for equality for years, and I was lucky enough to be born in a time of their success. Unfortunately, that didn’t matter in a werewolf pack. Men ruled while their mates supported. Adam wanted to turn me into a shadow of my former self, and he thought he’d break me into submission. Boy, did I have news for him.

“And if I decline?” I asked nervously. No one ever refused his orders or even questioned his judgment. I was treading on thin ice and about to be submerged in the frigid depths. I waited for him to growl in warning, a sign to remember my place. I waited for him to scream his demands as if raising his voice would help the order sink into my stubborn brain. I waited for him to show me exactly where my spot was on the proverbial ladder through threats, violence, and teeth wrapped around my throat. When none of my worst fears happened, I glanced up and into the eyes of my alpha.

For a few moments, I stared into the eyes of the most powerful man, and my wolf devoured the sensation—strength, bravery and equality. My human side stomped down her fascination and I averted my gaze, but for that speck of time I stared down Adam, and he didn’t show the slightest inclination in correcting my discourtesy.

I sulked in my bedroom for the rest of the day. When I questioned what would happen if I didn’t want to date Sawyer, Adam threatened to pair me with Luke. No woman in her right mind would want the title of being mated to
that
man. He was savage and had a fascination with using and abusing women. As if the thought of being black and blue for the rest of my life wasn’t scary enough, Luke was also in his mid-sixties. Not that his age was worse than his bite, but bile rose in my throat at the thought of his hands on my body.

Luke was old and crazy enough that the pack pretty much left him alone. He didn’t partake in our evening meals or monthly hunts, and I was happy for that. The one time I’d seen him he raked his eyes over my entire twenty-three year old body and left me feeling dirty. Even though he hadn’t touched me, I showered, scrubbed, and repeated twice.

In the end, I agreed to go on one date with Sawyer, but Adam countered with at least five dates. The alternative was more horrifying than a handful of bad dates, so I tucked my tail between my legs and didn’t put up a fight. I didn’t know much about Sawyer other than: he was around my age, had spiky dirty blond hair, green eyes, five o’clock shadow, and enjoyed fishing. He was cute, and for all intents and purposes, seemed like a nice guy.