PacksBrokenHeart (4 page)

Owen’s nose dragged his eyes away from her. Another bitch, long, red and putting out enough pheromones that Owen’s hips actually started rocking, strolled by. The tip of his penis began to emerge from its protective fur-covered sheath. This wolf would be coming into heat soon. Owen and every other male nearby began to trail after her. A few of them cried out in pain when the bitches they’d
been
playing with smacked them hard with their forepaws or slammed their skulls into their ribs. Unimpeded by a mate’s claim on him, Owen followed the red bitch for a while, knocked her shoulder with his when he got close enough, stepped aside obligingly when another male squeezed between them.

He could fight the other males for the right to mount this female but claiming her would mean siring the pups her body was gearing up for. Owen’s wolf didn’t act on its urges. In fact, the red bitch was simply forgotten when the golden-brown female ran past, still trailed by her would-be suitors. Skirting the males around him and knocking the rest aside, Owen joined in the chase. The golden-brown female looked over her shoulder, saw him bearing down on her and put on a burst of speed.

Owen’s wolf bayed with delight. This was what he’d yearned for. This was what he’d needed. The freedom to play, to be part of a group, accepted equally because they had no claims on him and he had no claims on them. At top speed she turned in a tight, controlled arc. Owen felt his heart beat faster as he exerted himself to keep up. She was lighter and more agile. He was the most powerful being in this clearing this night and his powerful flanks and solid bones let him drive through a turn that made two other males spin out and bowl over a group standing nearby. The rest of the males were no more than a body length behind him. The female turned again, in the opposite direction, only this time Owen was too close. He overshot her path and by the time he was back on her tail the rest of the group was ahead of him.

Growling, he dug his claws into the ground, used the traction to push off, hard, and leaped forward so fast his ears flattened in the wind. One then two males dropped behind him. He caught up to the third, nipped the back of its leg and snarled with pleasure when the male yelped in surprise and dropped out of the race.

There was only one more male between him and the female. This one was big but a little clumsy because of it. It raced after the female with open exuberance, perhaps enjoying the chase as much as Owen. Owen matched this brown wolf stride for stride, content to hang back with the other big male so the female’s sharp, sudden turns wouldn’t catch him unaware. But Owen’s wolf was too competitive, too sure of its right to dominate to accept the other male as an equal in the chase. He slammed his body into the brown male’s and left him yelping and skidding across the dirt.

Alone now, without competition, Owen gave the golden-brown female his full attention. He snarled, letting her know he was biding his time before he caught her. She threw herself into a wild sprint in response. Owen kept up. At this speed he knew he couldn’t control his turns like she could. If she deeked, he’d spin out and would be blowing dirt out of his snout for a week. Instead of turning, however, the female stopped. Owen’s head snapped to the side so fast his neck hurt as he blazed past her. He dug his paws into the ground, locked his shoulders and spun around before he’d stopped moving. When he raced back to her she simply sat, opened her mouth in a wide grin and began to pant, hard.

Wary of another dodge, Owen approached her slowly. She didn’t move. She simply sat where she was and watched him, letting him approach her. Although small, she exuded an unmistakable confidence. Clearly strong and smart enough to relish play, she stood up when he was beside her, bumped her chest into his shoulder then held herself still so he could sniff her. Even though it was night, she smelled like she’d been warmed by the sun. There was no challenge in her, merely calm acceptance. When she dropped her head and tapped his jaw with the top of her snout, Owen pushed her away playfully then let her head-bump him again.

The big brown male trotted up to them and moved beside her like they were old friends. Two more males, followed by the final three, joined them. Owen was jostled away from the female. Reacting instinctively, he growled in warning then sank his teeth into the thick ruff of the closest male. He shook his head once, hard, then let go. The male whimpered and took two steps back. Two other males spun away from the female and charged. Owen dodged the first, getting in a hard underbelly nip as the other flew past him in an uncoordinated blur of fur. He threw his weight up onto his back legs when the third reached him and came down in a flurry of growls, snapping teeth and swiping forepaws. The third male dropped under the weight of Owen’s body, scrambled, tried to roll away and cried out in fear when Owen latched on to his throat and bit hard enough to touch skin.

The other males backed off while Owen’s opponent froze where he was. Accepting the male’s acquiescence, Owen released him and trotted back to the female with his tail held high. Again she sat, watched him, waited for him to reach her. This time her head tipped to the side. The big brown male approached Owen. Owen growled then growled louder and backed it up with a snarl and a mock charge. To his credit the brown male didn’t tuck tail and run but he did step aside, giving Owen a clear and unimpeded path to the female.

When he reached her Owen spronked up on his forelegs then let his chest rest on the forest floor. Head cocked, ears perked, he looked up at her hopefully. She jumped, all four paws leaving the ground, spun and took off for the forest. Owen, along with the six other suitors, ran after her.

Owen’s wolf ran like the wind. It had been too long since it had been let loose, able to release the full potential of its strength. He caught up to the golden-brown bitch as soon as the trees thinned then reined in his speed so she could keep up. Trailed by her suitors, they ran side by side, dodging pines, leaping over fallen logs, scrambling over rough granite outcroppings.

The spring grasses grazed Owen’s chest as he ran. His tough paws found purchase against dirt and rock. The night air was sweet and heady. He had been born for this…this playing, the chase, the exhilaration that came from pitting himself against a worthy female.

In ones and twos the other males put on bursts of speed, caught up and ran beside them for a while. They turned their heads, joy in their expressions as they looked at Owen before falling back. He remembered this, the freedom, the easy friendships once hierarchy was established. Even though he was a stranger he was accepted. It had been so long he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be part of a pack.

When the golden-brown bitch pulled ahead, he let her. He let her take the lead like males of his kind had for millennia. When he ran beside her she bumped him now and then. Subtle nudges of her shoulder guided him through the unfamiliar terrain. She adjusted his direction so he ran parallel to a deep gorge instead of running straight off the edge. She steered him around a patch of wet, almost swampy ground hidden in the grass.

She led them to a stream where they drank, splashed around and lay with their chests in the cool, refreshing water. Not until every one of the males following her had stopped panting did she get up and resume the chase.

The half-moon rose higher in the sky then began to descend. Still racing, still playing and dodging the others, she led them up a steep rocky incline out onto an outcropping that overlooked the mountain valley below.

When she settled down to look out over the valley Owen stretched out on his belly next to her, never questioning his right to be beside her. Never questioning the appropriateness of the other males taking up positions beside yet slightly back from theirs. At the female’s side, he breathed in the night air. Tasted it for predators, competitors, danger or prey. The other males didn’t seem to notice his alertness or share it. The female did though. He sensed it in the way she watched him, the way she waited for his big body to relax before she sighed and laid her chin on her forepaws. The way she lifted her head after a moment, licked his muzzle then stretched out again.

With the others relaxing around him, Owen looked down over the valley. Now and then he spotted groups of wolves playing in the moonlight. They chased each other, wrestled, mock charged or simply rested like Owen and his group.

When the female beside him washed Owen’s face a second time the brown wolf whined quietly. She silenced him with a glare and a growl.

After a while she stood, led them back down to the valley and resumed the chase. They stopped by the stream once more then lifted their heads in unison when they heard the deep, powerful bay of the Alpha. Trotting in the female’s wake, they followed her back to the clearing.

When he caught sight of the dying fire through the trees Owen picked his moment and veered away from the others. His wolf preferred to be alone when it changed because it knew the man inside him preferred to be alone. Hidden beneath the trees, he sat beside his human clothes and peered out at the other wolves gathering in the clearing. He closed his eyes and bared his teeth at the slither of pain firing his nerve endings.

The transition from wolf to man wasn’t as traumatic or as painful as man to wolf. Owen’s wolf was tougher and experienced little stress as it shrank back to its normal dimensions, although his back itched like crazy after his fur retreated into his skin. Content and pleasantly tired after such a hard run, Owen dressed, walked back to his truck and drove off without anybody seeing him.

Suzanne Young’s wolf lifted its head and scanned the clearing. The six males who always trailed her were here with her. The seventh was nowhere to be seen. She made a quiet noise of distress and Wally Pierce’s wolf stepped up beside her and leaned his heavy brown shoulder against hers. He stayed where he was, supporting her body as it transitioned back to human form. Then he changed as well, wincing and grunting once in discomfort as his feet returned to their normal shape. Wally was her best buddy and another deputy sheriff on the police force. He was also wildly kid-crush in love with her. He had been since they’d hit puberty. Like he always did, he looked down at her body with open longing, sighed and turned away from her to hunt for his clothes.

Her wolf might have been distressed by the powerful golden male’s absence but the woman was not. Sure that male was something special…so special there could be no place for him here unless he challenged their Alpha.

Nobody wanted that kind of upheaval, especially from an interloper. And to leave her pack to be with him would be…untenable. She had a home, a position in this pack, a job she loved. She picked up her panties, slipped them on then reached for her bra, which lay on top of the rest of her neatly folded clothes.

That male might be everything she’d ever wanted in a mate but strays like him weren’t what she needed.

At work the next morning Suzanne sat up a little straighter in her chair when Sheriff Cutler Powell stepped out of his office. There was a time when she’d take every opportunity to flaunt her looks whenever the good-looking Alpha was around. The arrival of Fina Whitesage last summer put an end to that. Suzanne had been disappointed Cutler hadn’t chosen her for his mate. What healthy female wouldn’t have been? But now that she was no longer chasing Cutler’s tail all over the county Suzanne’s working relationship with him had improved, her dedication to her job had improved and she was, in many ways, happier and more content.

An established hierarchy would do that to a were.

“Listen up,” Cutler said in that booming, commanding voice of his. “You all know the sheriff’s office in Pinebridge asked me to step in there for a few days. Help them while they deal with the murder of their sheriff.” He sat on the corner of a desk, leaned his hands on his muscular thighs and looked around the open office. “Tomorrow’s going to be my last day there but they still need help.” Glancing down at the floor, he shook his head slowly. “They’re in shock and floundering. Their civilian dispatcher has fallen to pieces. I need two volunteers willing to transfer to the Pinebridge sheriff’s department on temporary loan. The assignment will last three months. More if it takes awhile for them to find a suitable were to send to the Wyoming Law Enforcement Academy for training.” He stood and adjusted the gun belt hanging around his taut waist. “I’m going to the bakery. Talk it over amongst yourselves. If nobody’s interested I’ll ask the rest of the deputies, although they’re all mated and I can’t see any of them wanting to move away from their families.”

Suzanne watched Cutler’s broad back as he left then the top of his head as he walked past the front windows. She flipped the mic on her headset up and spun her chair so she could look at the rest of the deputies.

Owen stopped mid-stride about ten feet outside the front door of the sheriff’s office. Somebody inside was pissed. And bellowing.

“No way in
hell
are you going.”

“You’re not my father or my boss, Wally. So back off.”

Huh. Owen had no trouble recognizing
that
pissy female tone.

“You all seem to forget I wear the same shirt you do because of my skills and not just because I fill it out nice.”

With a sigh Owen resumed walking. Cutler was expecting him. The sooner he was in there the sooner he could get out. When he stepped into the sheriff’s office, his skin prickled from the tension in the air.

“I’m not your boss but I am your friend. I get a say when you do something stupid. And putting yourself in the middle of a disintegrating pack with a cop killer on the loose would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“This gun isn’t for show,” Suzanne yelled back. She snatched off the tiny headset she was wearing, tossed it to another deputy and marched up to the humongous brown-haired cop she’d been arguing with. “You all seem to forget I’m a fully certified deputy sheriff just like the rest of you. Since when does wearing my reproductive organs on the inside prevent me from doing the job?”

“Aw, Suzanne, you know I don’t mean it like that.” The big cop spread his hands in a gesture of appeasement.

Owen could see it was wasted effort.

“And just
how
do you mean it? Hmm? Compared to me your marksmanship is so bad you shouldn’t be licensed to carry a cap gun. And what the hell do you want?” she yelled, turning to glare at Owen, who’d stepped up to the counter.

He let his brows draw closer together but other than that wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing how much she managed to annoy him.

“And what the hell are you doing with
that
?” she added, making a grab for the silver box Owen was pulling out of his breast pocket.

“Easy there, deputy,” Owen growled. He held the box out of her reach, uncharacteristically enjoying the fact he was able to rile her up so easily. She made another grab for the box but his height defeated her easily. When she resorted to huffing at him and planting her fists on that tiny waist of hers he admired the way her breasts pushed against her regulation shirt.

“This,” he said, tilting the silver box in his hand, “hasn’t been reported stolen nor is it going to be. I’m a citizen you’re sworn to protect and serve…not play snatch and grab with. So tone it down a notch.”

“Why you arrogant…” The pretty deputy sheriff launched herself across the counter at him, grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand and her cuffs with the other.

Owen held his ground and glared down at her. “I’m no expert but attacking a civilian is a chargeable offense, isn’t it? Is it just your blonde roots showing or are you always this dumb?”

“Suzanne!”

She flinched and snarled when the door behind Owen slammed. Cutler stepped up beside Owen and glared at his deputies. “Let him go and get back to work. All of you.” His voice boomed through the office.

He flipped up the little gate that led past the counter into the main part of the station. “Come with me,” he barked at Owen before heading for the door with his name painted on it. Inside Cutler dropped the small paper bag he was carrying onto his desk, releasing the scents of cinnamon and apples into the air. He sat down in his big leather chair.

Holding his tongue, Owen took one of the chairs across from Cutler. With quiet reverence he set the silver box on Cutler’s blotter.

Cutler picked it up and ran his fingers around the lid. Owen knew what he was checking for. The same jeweler who’d engraved the box had just finished soldering it shut. The man was an artist. There wasn’t a drip, ripple or ridge to mar the perfect symmetry of the box. The ash inside would be preserved forever.

“I’d like to apologize for my deputy’s behavior.” Cutler’s sigh was ripe with released tension. “If you want to press charges—”

“No,” Owen interrupted adamantly. “You’re all under a lot of stress and maybe I went out of my way to provoke her. A little.”

Cutler shot him a discerning glare then the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Just don’t do it again while she’s on the job. Jeez, what is it with you two? You’re like oil and water and you don’t even know each other.”

“Must be my charming personality.”

“Must be.” Cutler sighed again. “You were right to come down on Suzanne like you did but there’s only room for one Alpha in a pack. I’m sad to say this again, Owen, but at some point I’m going to have to ask you to move on.”

Owen’s mouth tightened but he nodded in agreement. “I don’t want to fight you.” He sighed, much like Cutler had. “I don’t want your pack or your position. And I definitely don’t want to wreck Fina’s or Ryan’s lives. They’ve been through enough upheaval for two lifetimes.”

“Agreed.”

The weres sat across the desk from each other, not saying anything for a moment, just watching each other and taking the measure of each other’s strength.

Eventually Cutler spoke again. “I pegged you for a natural leader when I met you in Tennessee last summer. Guess you got good at hiding what you are while you were in the military. I did too. I also think you’ve gotten good at hiding what you are from yourself.”

Owen’s instinct was to argue the point. But he realized he didn’t actually disagree with what Cutler said, he just had an inborn need to win. So he kept his mouth shut and accepted the cup of coffee Cutler poured for him, along with one of the apple fritters the Alpha pulled out of the bag on his desk. While they ate Cutler told him what he knew about the neighboring packs and the few out-of-state ones he was familiar with.

When Owen left maybe fifteen minutes later Cutler’s message, while veiled in layers of politeness, was clear. It was time Owen started thinking about where to live next.

Suzanne smelled the approach of the big annoying-as-hell were even before the door to Cutler’s office opened. She glared at Owen when he walked past her desk and he glared right back. Owen Wells was terrifyingly handsome and she hated him even more for it. His face was all hard edges and stark intensity. The background check she’d run on him a few days before hadn’t turned up anything. Bastard had an exemplary military record, filed his taxes on time and had only one traffic charge—a speeding ticket back in Tennessee when he was seventeen.