Karly's Wolf (Hollow Hills Book 1) (16 page)

“He saved me for you,” Karly said. “When I got caught, he knocked the other wolf off me and told me to keep running. He could have taken me for himself, but he didn’t.”

Glancing down at Karly, his expression softened with slight apology before he grunted. “Come on. We should get back to the Ridge.”

What little of the romantic mood McQueen’s interruption hadn’t killed, died right there.

“Do we have to?”

Colton bent to nuzzle her shoulder. “You don’t want to show off your prime Alpha catch? I really am considered quite the catch, you know.”

There was that arrogance again. “Yes, you are.” Karly smiled, but it faded almost immediately. “But am I?”

He blinked twice, as if surprised.

“
Chevolak
,” she reminded, as if he needed one. “Mama Margo said Alphas aren’t supposed to take human mates.”

“They never have before,” he corrected. “But then, no human has ever participated in the Hunt before. Nor in the games that preceded it. I’ve got the only
chevolak
to ever compete against a
volka
. Some will grumble, sure. Others will think I’ve snagged the greatest catch in living memory.”

“But I lost,” she protested. “In fact, I lost on an epic scale.”

“But you kept getting back up. Sweetheart, that was pretty damn epic too. That was unheard of. Do you have any idea how many of my people I had to hamstring just to get to you?”

“I was the slowest runner and the easiest catch.”

“True. But you were a catch worth fighting for.” Colton’s smile was as infectious as it seemed genuine. When she smiled back, he chucked her under the chin, took her hand and helped her up off the ground.

They held hands all the way to the Ridge, breaking contact only for those few minutes when Colton helped to wash the mud off in the stream and then boost her up the steep face of the bluff. The Hunt wasn’t yet over, but on the way they passed several newly-mated and a few still-mating couples. They passed Joela too, not far from the female’s corral, still aggressively fighting to knock her would-be suitors back. Still in wolfish form, the Deacon’s daughter kept her tail tightly tucked and her teeth bared. The younger males who had caught her were no longer pressing their suit. A few still whined, trying to wheedle their way closer, but she was having none of it.

“You said there were other Alphas here,” Karly whispered as they circled around, giving the squabbling wolves a wide berth. “I’m surprised none of them tried for her. Her family is strong, right? Isn’t that part of the politics, strengthening your pack ties by taking mates from other well-established packs?”

“She was caught on the field,” Colton said, and by his tone alone Karly could tell that wasn’t a good thing. “And she refused all of those who caught her. That’s her right, but when you enter the Hunt, the understanding is you do so with the intent to mate. She broke tradition. Like I said, refusal is always the female’s choice, but she’d have done better to submit. A stronger male might have thought her worth fighting for if she had.”

Joela was eyeing them, the yellow of her eyes baleful and vindictive. She growled only once, so perhaps it was her body posture that gave away her intent. Although they had been careful to keep a proper distance between the
she-volka
and her suitors, suddenly Colton stiffened. He thrust her behind him a bare second before Joela lunged, but the attack was aborted almost before it had begun.

“Do not,” a gruff voice behind Karly suddenly barked, “add to our disgrace!”

Jumping, Karly turned to find a much older man, in his fifties, if not his sixties, stalking toward them. His hair was more salt than pepper, but his physique was that of a man accustomed to hard physical labor. The Deaton patriarch ignored Karly and Colton. He went straight to stand between them and his now cowering daughter. Trailing in his wake, cradling the broken arm McQueen had given him to his slender chest, was a man barely out of his teenaged years. He didn’t look any happier than Joela, who whined, flashing her throat to her father before crawling on her belly to his feet.

Although the Deaton Alpha did not strike her, there was something about the way he looked at her that reminded Karly of Dan. Nervous, Karly pulled at Colton’s arm, wanting to leave, but stopped when his hand tightened on her arm.

The Deaton Alpha turned and looked at them: Colton took the brunt of his glare, but when it eventually shifted to Karly, she saw nothing but disgust. “We’re leaving.”

Snapping around, he walked away, his children falling into an obedient line behind him. Joela did not transform. She kept her head down and her tail tucked, and she did not look back.

In that instant, Karly pitied her.

Movement from the forest caught her eye. On the far side of the field, McQueen walked out from the trees with a flushed and blushing Maya holding his hand. She flashed Karly a grin, one that faltered slightly when her gaze drifted just beyond Karly’s shoulder. Afraid the Deatons were returning, Karly turned, but it was only Marcus and Gabe, both naked and battered. The bright shocks of Gabe’s body paints were smeared with dirt and drying blood. He was hugging his ribs. He was also without a Bride and on his face, Karly could see a hurt that ran deeper than his physical wounds when he looked back at Maya.

Maya looked at him for a long time before turning to McQueen. She tried to smile. She also hugged her chosen mate’s arm to her naked chest as if he were the greatest treasure and not quite possibly the scariest human being—or
volka
for that matter—that Karly had ever met in her life.

McQueen looked down at her, bemused, then his eyes met Gabe’s, Colton’s, and finally Karly’s. He tipped his head, but he didn’t approach. He took his Bride home, giving the Alpha of Hollow Hills an entire field’s width of berth.

The Alpha of Hollow Hills.

Her Alpha now too. Karly stepped in to him, hugging his arm the way Maya had McQueen’s. Colton gave her the same indulgent smile McQueen had given his Bride. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Karly had packed and unpacked her few meager belongings half a dozen times before she finally just made up her mind. She boxed it up, keeping only those items that had real sentimental value to her, everything that had come from her mother—that silly coffee can for one—just those things that she wanted to keep. Everything else, everything she’d received during her disastrous marriage to Dan, she was in the process of loading into the back of her car. It was all destined either for the nearest Goodwill or the dump (whichever was closest), but she was still sorting and loading it when her phone rang.

Recognizing the number, Karly answered it. “Hello?”

Beth Calloway, her lawyer, did not return the greeting. All business, she started in somberly with, “I have a police officer standing here, a co-worker of Dan’s. He wants to talk to you. Now, he doesn’t have a warrant, so as far as I’m concerned this isn’t official police business. If you say you don’t want to talk to him, I’ll hang up and he can go fuck himself. It’s up to you, honey. What do you want me to do?”

Just the mention of her ex-husband’s name dropped an icy snake to writhe in the pit of her stomach. “I’ll talk to him,” she heard herself say, but her voice sounded weird, even to her.

If Beth noticed, she still handed the phone over, saying only, “Keep it brief. And if you make even the most veiled of threats towards my client, know right now, buster, this conversation is being recorded. I will have your badge.”

On any other day, that would have made Karly smile. Beth was a good lawyer. Under better circumstances, they might have been friends. But then the snake in her gut tightened its constrictor grip as she heard the slight shuffle of grips exchanging on the office phone.

It had been almost two weeks since the Hunt, but this had been the one phone call that she’d always known eventually would come: the one where someone from Redemption called to tell her they’d found her husband’s body and did she know anything about it. It was the phone call that could potentially put her and Colton both in jail.

Over her shoulder, Karly heard the heavy tromp of Colton’s work boots as he crossed the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. “Who’s on the phone?” he called through the open doorway.

Karly didn’t answer. She turned her back, plugging her other ear so she could pretend she hadn’t heard him. Her Alpha carried enough on his shoulders; regardless of what had happened after Margo had swept her out of that tiny rental cabin, regardless of what he’d done to Dan, she didn’t want him to worry about this. If it meant keeping Colton safe, she would lie through her teeth for as long as she could. He kept her safe. To return that favor was the least she could do.

“Hello, Mrs. Whitaker,” said a man from the other end of the cellular connection. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Detective Briggs. How are you today?”

Although he spoke light and cheerfully, something in his tone told Karly this man was anything but as congenial as he sounded.

“Barker,” Karly corrected. “Dan and I are divorcing and I’ll be taking my maiden name just as soon as it goes through.”

“Barker, then.” Briggs didn’t bother pretending he didn’t already know that. He kept his mask of cheerfulness too, but he also cut straight through to the meat of the issue with all the surgical precision of a really clever cop. “I have a few questions I need to ask about your current situation, but I don’t feel comfortable doing it over the phone. Is it possible for you to—”

“I feel comfortable doing it over the phone and with my lawyer present,” Karly softly interrupted. Behind her, she heard Colton come out of the kitchen. She knew he had to be listening. If she’d learned nothing else in these last few weeks, it was that he had phenomenal hearing. It wasn’t just her answers he was listening to. He could probably hear Detective Briggs’s questions too. “Ask what you have to.”

“Fine. I can do that.” There was a distinct cooling in the Detective’s feigned cheerfulness. “When was the last time you saw your husband?”

“When he beat the shit out of me the night I left him,” Karly lied. She did it quietly, flatly, without a shred of animosity to color her words or make of herself a bigger suspect than she already was.

Briggs was quiet. “I didn’t know about that.”

“You knew he put me in the hospital last year,” she countered. “I remember the flowers you and the rest of his buddies sent me. They were very pretty. They came with a card that said you were all thinking of me. Do remember what you said to me when I called you from the hospital, Detective Briggs, and I told you that Dan had put me there?”

“Give me the phone,” Colton said, putting his cup down on the coffee table and holding out his hand.

Karly turned her back a second time, holding the phone to her ear with both hands now, just in case he tried to take it. “Do you remember, Detective Briggs?”

“Give me the phone, sweetheart,” Colton said, reaching around her now to take it away.

She growled at him. Two weeks living openly among the
volka
hadn’t given her much of a vocabulary. She had no clue what she was saying, but she hoped it conveyed irritation.

Colton snorted, then chuckled. “You’re so damn cute when you do that.”

Abandoning his pursuit of the phone, Colton wrapped his arm around her waist instead. He nuzzled the back of her neck, giving her a gentle nip that let her feel all the points of his teeth. With Dan, Karly had gotten used to wearing shirts that covered her markings; she was still doing that now with Colton, but for entirely different reasons. Instead of hiding bruises from beatings, she was hiding the massive ring of hickey and love bites he liked to mark her with. With Dan, Karly had had to hide to keep people from seeing; but Colton liked for people to see his markings. The more Karly tried to cover them up, the more creative he got about putting them in places impossible to hide. The kicker had been the one he’d put on the very tip of her chin. She currently had enough foundation powders and lotions to open her own boutique.

“I’m very sorry about what happened, Miss—”

Again Karly interrupted, softly, flatly. “You asked me what I’d done to antagonize him. You said he was under stress and that I shouldn’t pick fights with a man who loved me as much as Dan did, and who was only trying to provide for me the way good husbands should. Do you remember telling me that, Detective Briggs?”

“That’s my girl,” Colton rumbled, nuzzling the curve of her shoulder. “Go for the throat.”

Briggs was quiet all over again. “Dan says he saw you two weeks ago. He says things got heated, that threats were made. Miss Barker, did you see your husband two weeks ago?”

“No, I did not.” Karly didn’t even flinch at the lie. Her voice didn’t quaver, but every nerve in her body was now standing on end. “Is he there with you now?”

“No, he’s still in the hospital. Benton County Psychiatric.”

Each and every one of those standing nerves shivered at the same time. “What is he doing in a psych hospital?”

Behind her, Colton chuckled against her neck.

“He was picked up last week by County. They found him wandering naked in a field. He was pretty scratched up, dehydrated, and rambling about…” Briggs cleared his throat. “…werewolves.”

Karly could hear the embarrassment the Detective felt at having to say that word on behalf of a man he’d once considered his friend. “Werewolves?” she echoed, letting feigned disbelief drip off every syllable.

“He had some bite marks on him. We’re pretty sure he was attacked by animals. It shook him up pretty good.”

Shook up, but still alive. She squeezed the phone hard to keep her hands from shaking. “He’s lucky they didn’t kill him.”

“They who?”

Two could play at that game. “The animals.”

“You don’t sound upset.”

“I’m not. I’m glad he’s not dead, but to be honest, he’s an ill-tempered, wife-beating son of a bitch. And you’re the man who let him get away with it for four years, so unless you’re accusing me of something…” She let that sentence hang for several long seconds, giving the Detective a chance to either confirm or deny his intentions. He said nothing. “Then, I’m going to hang up.”

His tone sharpened. “I still have questions for you.”

“I live in another state and I am out of your jurisdiction. Accuse me of something and go through the channels, but I warn you now, it’s commendable that you’re willing to stick your neck out for your friend, but drummed up assault charges based on the testimony of a man who also says he saw werewolves, isn’t going to hold up long enough to go to court. Supporting it just to harass me may even hurt your career. And no, that won’t hurt my feelings either. You’re a piece of shit cop who’s every bit as responsible as Dan for the hell I went through. If you have any other questions, you’re going to have to arrest me, because I’m all done talking to you.”

Karly hit the disconnect button before Briggs could say anything more. Then she stood there, staring at the far wall without really seeing it. Her hands were shaking. She hadn’t realized just how badly until she looked at them. Around her waist, Colton’s arm tightened, holding her to his chest because her legs were shaking now too.

“Right for the throat,” he said again, grinning down at her.

“Damn,” she whispered. “That felt good.”

“One down; the rest of his Department to go.”

She twisted her head back far enough to see his smile. “You didn’t kill him?”

“I can’t say I wasn’t tempted. But as I told you, we’re not monsters. We chased the scrawny little weasel through the woods for most of the night, scared the piss out of him—literally—and then let him go just across the county line. Psychiatric hospital, huh?”

“Yeah.” Karly gazed up at him. It might mean she was an awful human being, but she didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of guilt. He belonged in jail, but in a pinch, she’d take a mental hospital.

“I guess we followed Mama Margo’s edict to the letter then. He won’t be coming back any time soon. He might not ever come back.”

“But he told people, his co-workers…Colton, Detective Briggs knows—”

“Detective Briggs,” he interrupted smoothly, wrapping his arms a little tighter around her, “thinks his buddy is ‘shook up’ enough to warrant being incarcerated in a mental ward. No one is going to come looking for us. And if they do—” He nuzzled her shoulder. “—all they’ll find is a sleepy little town, known for its great hunting and fishing, and filled to the good ol’ country brim with very normal-seeming folk.”

“And you didn’t kill him,” Karly repeated. She didn’t know why that should make her want to melt a little, but it did.

“Does that weaken me in your eyes?” He tipped his head so he could see her face better, his amber gaze searching hers.

“My Alpha isn’t weak,” she instantly replied, doing her best to mimic a growl of affront. Oh yeah, she was definitely picking up the lingo.

Colton chuckled. “Damn, that’s cute.” Loosening his arms, he let her turn far enough for her to put her arms around his shoulders. “Do that again, sweetheart.” He backed her towards the couch, his hands already smoothing down over her hips to cup and squeeze her buttocks. “Growl for your Alpha.”

“My Alpha,” she repeated. It took real skill (and probably a
volka
throat) to form words and growls at the same time, but she offered her best attempt to date. Her knees bumped up against the cushions just as he lifted her, dropping her down to lie across the sofa beneath him.

“Whose Bride are you?” he growled, the amber of his eyes a bold and hungry lupine gold as he made himself comfortable on top of her.

“I’m your Bride.” She gasped, her whole body coming to life as his hips moved purposefully over hers, the rub of what was growing into a very promising erection grinding against her pubis. The barrier of both their clothes was a temporary obstacle and one that didn’t survive that first hard yank as he ripped her shirt right off her chest.

She’d lost a lot of shirts this way, yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. Not with the burning heat of his mouth fastening hard upon the peak of her swelling, aching nipple.

“Say it again,” he commanded, already feasting to create yet another mark. He plucked and rolled at her nipple’s twin until Karly was arching and writhing to the symphony of sensations his mouth and fingers so effortlessly strummed from her.

“I’m yours, I’m yours!”

He tore her pants getting them off her—she lost a lot of pants this way, too—and on the seductive upwards crawl as he rose to cover her again, he paused to press a burning kiss to the smooth skin just above her sex. She saw his nostrils flare and his eyes dilate as he breathed her musk in.

“And I’m your wolf,” he rumbled, skinning his pants down just far enough for the denim to be out of his way. His hips burned into her with furnace-like heat. He rocked against her, letting her feel the proof of his desire. “I am yours.”

She wrapped both her arms and legs around him as he pierced her, sliding into her slow, hot and deep.

“Yours,” he groaned, the mantra by which he took her now. Another nipping bite sparked that mindlessly electrifying moment when her whole world exploded in pleasure so intense that she felt ripped by it.