Winter of the Wolf Read online

  “Fuck.” Zeb slapped the spatula down, grabbed Breanne’s arms, and scowled at her. “Klaus hit you, knocked you down at the pack run. You didn’t tel us.” Anger flared in Shay at the reminder. “You let us believe a lie, in fact.”

  Zeb gave her a tiny shake. “Why?”

  She glared at him, then Shay. “What would you have done if I’d told you?”

  Ripped his throat out. “Beat on him. Taught him some manners.”

  “My word against his,” she said. “Who would Gerhard believe?”

  Shay frowned. “His brother.”

  “Exactly. If you roughed up his brother without a good reason, wouldn’t Gerhard kick you out of the pack? His territory?”

  Zeb’s jaw dropped. “You lied to protect us?” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at them.

  “Wel, duh.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The sign said: “COME AROUND TO THE SIDE” with an arrow pointing toward the right. As Zeb finished attaching it to the porch railing, he noticed Bree standing nearby.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  A week had passed since the Gathering. She looked better, finaly. He and Shay had taken turns dragging her out of her room and running the mountain trails with her. Not a hardship. He liked having the little wolf at his side.

  She’d tried to protect me. Twice now. Fuck, he stil couldn’t get his teeth around it.

  “Do you think anyone wil come?” she asked.

  Females did like to worry, didn’t they? “Relax.” He rubbed away the wrinkle between her delicately curving brows, pleased when she didn’t retreat. “Calum and his family wil come, the storeowners, our guests in the cabins, other cahirs and their families. Enough.” She sighed. “You know, I’ve put on huge events at the restaurant and never been this nervous. I don’t get it.” After a second, the answer came to him. He cupped her face in his palm and almost lost his thought. What was there about her smooth skin that sent lust straight to his groin?

  “Your Seattle events were for humans. This is for your clan.

  The stakes are higher.”

  Her breath huffed out, warm on his wrist. “You’re right. Is this how people usualy feel then?”

  “No clue.” He’d never given a party in his life.

  As she puled away, she eyed him. “You’re touching me an awful lot.”

  “I like touching you.” He took her hand and breathed in the scent from her wrist. And you like my hands on you.

  When his eyes met hers, she flushed beautifuly and retreated back to the house.

  Pink was getting to be his favorite color in the world, especialy on a fair-skinned female. What shades would he especialy on a fair-skinned female. What shades would he find elsewhere on her…and how would each taste under his lips and tongue?

  Bree hurried back to the kitchen, her skin tingling where Zeb’s hand had cupped her face. When he did stuff like that, she wanted to let him do more. His hands were so skilful at everything. Building and repairing. Fighting and shooting.

  What about sex?

  The thought sent heat right down to her toes.

  Get a grip, Bree. Doing anything sexual with Zeb would be such a bad idea. What if she reacted as she had with Evan? She wouldn’t be able to face him afterwards. Heck, she’d never be able to stay here in the lodge, probably not in Cold Creek.

  Nope. Stick to a nice friendly distant relationship with the two guys. A no-touching friendship.

  She frowned. Considering the way Zeb had inhaled her scent and gotten that barely visible, Zeb-smile, she might have trouble with that plan.

  In the kitchen, she checked the baked beans, pleased with the fragrance of ham and molasses. Bowls of potato salad and pasta salad waited in the refrigerator—and now she knew why the fridge was so big. Hors d’oeuvres were ready: crisp vegetables with dip, tiny spinach quiches, and chips for the younger ones. The corn was wrapped for the gril. Drinks the younger ones. The corn was wrapped for the gril. Drinks were in the refrigerator.

  Showtime.

  When voices sounded outside, her gut twisted as if she’d swalowed a rat—a live one. Relax. I know all these people. Only that made it even worse. After sucking in a fortifying breath, she grabbed an hors d’oeuvres tray and walked out the kitchen door.

  As Bree set the tray down on the appetizer table, she looked around. At the vine-covered entrance, Rosie was colecting money from townspeople. The older woman had cheerfuly volunteered to serve as gatekeeper and cashier in exchange for a free meal.

  To Bree’s delight, a few guests were already scattered around the patio. Near the center, Calum sat at a table, laughing at something Zeb had said.

  As if Zeb had felt her gaze, he turned, and his black gaze ran like firm hands up and down her body. She flushed, realizing she’d been staring at him. The thoughtful smile curving his lips and molten heat in his eyes said he knew.

  “Join us, little female.”

  The rough sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

  She walked over.

  “You look better, Breanne,” Calum said. When she stiffened, his smile disappeared. “I regret you suffered at Klaus’s hands, but you probably saved others from worse.

  Klaus’s hands, but you probably saved others from worse.

  Another female might not have had a cahir to defend her.

  His words eased much of the guilt weighing her down. He was right. Klaus wouldn’t have stopped with her.

  “He broke the Law, Breanne, and Herne rendered judgment and execution.” The haunted look in his face slapped her out of her self-pity. What kind of nightmares must he have? He’d saved her, but at what cost to himself?

  “Thank you, Cosantir,” she said softly. She bent to give him a swift kiss on the cheek.

  Then she shook her head as if it were her fur. Enough of the past. This was supposed to be a party. “Al right, boys,” she said. “I’ve been wondering, did you two get together to coordinate your clothes?” She tugged on Zeb’s T-shirt.

  “Black and black and—oh, yes, more black. I may have to go shopping so I can join in.”

  Calum’s expression lightened. “It’s efficient at least.” Zeb snorted and stepped into her personal space, right into up-close-and-intimate. “Yelow looks good on you, little female. Leave black to the ugly males.” He ran his finger along the fancy beadwork on her V-neck sweater, occasionaly brushing her skin rather than fabric.

  A disconcerting zing shot through her, and her nipples tightened. She took a step back. From the quirk of his lips, she realized she should have worn a more padded bra.

  “What would you like to drink, Calum?” she asked hastily.

  “What would you like to drink, Calum?” she asked hastily.

  “We have beer, iced tea, Kool-Aid, lemonade, wine, and water.”

  “An iced tea would be pleasant.” Amusement danced in his eyes.

  “Coming right up.” She chanced a frown at Zeb and saw the same laughter in his eyes.

  Men.

  In the kitchen, she poured Calum’s drink and set sugar, napkin and spoon on the tiny serving tray. After giving him his tea—Zeb could darn wel get his own—she made trips back and forth, bringing out the hefty glass pitchers of tea and Kool-Aid and lemonade. Tubs of iced beer set next to the table holding wine glasses and mugs.

  Over at the barbeque, Shay raised his eyebrows at her, silently asking if he should start. She assessed at the number of people—people, yay!—and nodded.

  The first steak hit the gril with a sizzle, sending out a heady aroma of meat marinated in garlic and butter. Cholesterol watchers—escape while you can.

  Bree grinned when Vicki entered the patio with Alec.

  ’Bout time the woman got back. “Hey, you.” As the two walked over, Bree frowned. Alec had curved an arm around Vicki’s waist and was stroking the bare skin exposed by her midriff top. Vicki was married to Calum.

  Didn’t Alec realize his brother could kil someone with a touch? Even if he couldn�
�t, messing around with a married woman wasn’t right.

  “So.” She forced a bright note into her voice. “How have you been? Um, both of you?”

  Vicki roled her eyes. “Bree, don’t ever play poker.” Bree huffed out a breath. When she’d lived on the streets, she could pickpocket, hotwire cars, and steal as wel as anyone. But lying? She screwed it up every time. “I just asked how you were.”

  “And you were thinking, why’s Alec wrapped around me and Calum isn’t, right?”

  “Jeez, let’s just say what we think,” Bree muttered, flushing as she darted a look at Alec.

  “No, don’t involve me. I managed to escape discussing this when Vixen first arrived. I’m sure not going to now.” Alec bent and kissed Vicki—open-mouthed with major Frenching—and sauntered over to join the other men.

  “Fuck, what that man can do with his tongue,” Vicki murmured.

  “Uh, Vic? You know what TMI means?”

  A snort. “Too much information?” Grinning, Vicki pushed her dark hair back over her shoulder. “What you saw with me and Alec? Shay asked me to discuss that with you.” Why in the world did she need to hear about Vicki’s extra-marital flings? “This isn’t exactly a good time.” Never would be the right time.

  would be the right time.

  “True, but I’m leaving in the morning for Elder Vilage again.”

  “And hearing about you and Alec is urgent—why?” Vicki laughed. “Oops, fucked-up communication. I meant, I’m supposed to talk to you about mating stuff.” God, what next? “Stil not the time. The guys can explain.”

  “Get real. Alec—who talks about anything—refused to discuss this with me. Do you think your uncivilized cahirs wil instruct you on mating practices?”

  “They told me about the Gathering.”

  “Did they wait until the last minute when they couldn’t find anyone else?”

  Despite worry burrowing like a worm inside her, Bree had to laugh. “Absolutely.”

  “Men are such assholes. But considering the way they watch you, you need to know a couple things. Good intel is essential in foreign cultures.”

  They watch me? Bree glanced around. Zeb was talking to the bookstore owner. But Shay? Yes, he was watching her, and the possessive expression in his face made heat sweep from her toes to her scalp.

  “See what I mean?”

  “Yeah.” Wow. “He doesn’t normaly…”

  “There are other men here, and shifters are territorial about their women.”

  their women.”

  “I’m not their—”

  Vicki interrupted. “Here are the basics: a lot more men are born than women.”

  “I know that.”

  “Good. Then you’l understand why a marriage is usualy one woman with two or more guys.

  The ground roled as if Bree had stepped on a carnival ride. More than one man? Like Mormons in reverse? “No way.”

  “Yes, way. The men are usualy littermates, because brothers don’t get jealous of each other. But if someone else poaches—it’s war.”

  Wait, wait, wait Alec and Calum were brothers.

  Littermates. Bree turned. Alec’s laughing gaze met hers showing that he knew exactly what Vicki was explaining.

  “You’re married to both of them?”

  “And damned pleased about it. Jody’s happy with her trio.” Vicki nodded to where the short brown-haired women who ran the cleaning service sat at a table with three men.

  Three husbands? Criminy.

  As Bree tried to absorb the shock, Vicki poured herself a lemonade. “I’l return for the next Gather, and we can talk the evening before. With alcohol. You’l need alcohol.”

  “I need alcohol now.”

  “Hel, I totaly know that feeling.” Vicki sipped her

  “Hel, I totaly know that feeling.” Vicki sipped her lemonade. “My buddy, Heather, sometimes shows up for our Gathers, and I’l get her to come, in case there’s anything I still don’t know.” She gave Calum and Alec a disgusted look. “Between us, we’l get you up to fighting speed.”

  “You realy were a Marine, weren’t you?” Bree smiled.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’d be very grateful.” I have a friend.

  “It’s a plan then.” Vicki glanced over Bree’s shoulder and ordered, “Now, get back to your party.”

  Bree turned. Holy cow. Her hand pressed over her unsettled stomach. The patio had filed with a myriad of people: the sunburned lodge guests back from fishing and obviously looking forward to a great time; townspeople, including the grocery store owner, Mr. Baty, and Books’s owner, Mr. Thorson; a few human colege students; families with children scurrying around like puppies.

  The wolf pack stood at Rosie’s reception table. Bree felt the blood drain out of her face when she saw Gerhard had come too.

  Even as Vicki moved closer, Shay appeared. He puled Bree back against his broad chest, one arm wrapped across her stomach. Setting his chin on her shoulder, he murmured into her ear, “It was Klaus’s own fault, a leannan, not yours, and we’l deal with the aftermath as we need to. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know you won’t,” she said. He’d defend her, as would

  “I know you won’t,” she said. He’d defend her, as would Zeb. Klaus’s death wasn’t her fault. She had to keep teling herself that.

  She studied the smal crowd of wolf shifters at the entrance. They’d brought their children and were smiling.

  They wanted a party, not a lynching. The tight bal in the pit of her stomach uncurled.

  “Al right, little wolf?”

  With reluctance, she puled away. Why did having those muscular arms around her make her bones melt? “I’m fine, big wolf.”

  He gave her an approving smile.

  “I’l get the rest of the food out.” She’d also take a moment to recover her balance in the haven of her kitchen.

  Too many upsets. Not only a pack with a pissed-off alpha, but the real kicker—more than one man to a woman?

  Food I can handle; it’s the rest of my life that’s a mess.

  As Breanne hurried away, Shay sighed. He’d enjoyed how she’d relaxed into him. She probably had no idea how much pleasure it gave a male to have a female accept his protection.

  Not that he’d done a very good job. Seemed like every time she was out of his sight, someone hurt her. Of course, if she’d told them about Klaus’s behavior at the pack run, the asshole wouldn’t have had a chance at her the second time.

  Knowing she’d tried to protect him and Zeb had sure left them both off-balance.

  Nonetheless, the solution to her getting hurt was obvious

  —he’d just leash her to his side. Yeah. For now, he needed to get back to work.

  After returning to the gril, he finished tossing on the steaks, counted the pint-sized bodies, and added hamburgers and hot dogs too.

  A few minutes later, Breanne checked the results of his cooking, gave him a pleased smile, and bore the platter away. Her composure was back, and she had a slight bounce in her gliding walk.

  By Herne, she was a pretty sight. Her sweater had a folded-over loose neck that kept sliding down, leaving her pale shoulder bare and begging for a male to nibble on the soft skin. If he pushed the fabric down farther, it would expose—frame—a firm, ful breast. He’d wanted to nibble on those breasts even before he knew she was a shifter.

  His cock hardened. Bad wolf. But by the God, he liked watching her.

  She was in her element. With laughing firmness, she broke up an impending fight among the teens, then snagged a lost-looking colege girl and introduced her to a bunch of youngsters her age, found a chair for an old geezer and plopped down a game that drew several others to his table.

  plopped down a game that drew several others to his table.

  No, more than her element, this was her domain where she ruled. And beautifuly.

  He should be doing the same, so he turned to the nearby bunch of his lodgers. “How’s the fishing, guys?”


  “Hey, I caught a couple of rainbow trout this morning.” The nerdy-looking twenty-year-old puffed up as if he’d saved the world from famine. “Only I’m not sure what to do with them now.”

  “Did you gut them?” Please say you gutted them.

  “Yeah. Devin showed me. But how do you cook them?”

  “Easiest is toss some butter in a pan, coat with flour or cornmeal, salt and pepper them, and fry them up. If you want fancier, ask Breanne.” He jerked his head toward where she was setting out big bowls of beans and salads.

  “Oh, man, I’ve wanted to meet her. Thanks!” The nerd and his friends trotted off.

  Shay growled, then stopped. They were human. Breanne wouldn’t be interested.

  Yet the irritating anger— jealousy—didn’t disappear, and he shook his head. His path was supposed to be a solitary one. Yet he’d acquired a brother. Then Breanne. Hel, the whole town. He gave a grunt of exasperation and noticed a girl waiting patiently for his attention. “Hey, you. Burger, hot dog, or steak?”

  Golden-haired with a sprinkling of freckles, she reminded Golden-haired with a sprinkling of freckles, she reminded him of a teenaged wolf pup, al angles and no grace. “I’d like a hot dog, please. I’m Jamie, and you’re Seamus, right?” Seamus, my ass. “You’ve been talking to Calum.” After tossing on another dog, he stuck out his hand. “Cal me Shay, and I’m glad to meet you, Jamie.” He frowned. Damned if she didn’t seem familiar. He’d heard her name somewhere.

  “Have we met?”

  “No, sir. Not realy. You and Zeb saved me and Bree from the helhound. I wanted to say thank you.” To his shock, she hugged him. Him, the terrifying helhound-kiling cahir.

  He held his hands in the air for a second, then caved and returned the hug. Damn. “You’re welcome, Jamie.”

  “You got realy hurt,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

  “Not that bad.” He eased back, saw tears on her cheeks, and almost panicked. Carefuly, with clumsy fingers, he wiped the tears away. “Listen, cub. I can’t think of anyone I’d like to save more than you and Breanne. It was my honor. Okay?”