Elle stood and grabbed Tuck’s hand. They’d been sitting here at the bar since Chelo had been offered provisional status, but it was growing late. “Tuck and I had a long day, Chelo, so if you want to go back to town we can take you now, or you’re welcome to stay here for the night. We’ve got plenty of empty cabins and I speak for all of us when I say we’d love for you to stay.”

Trak shook his head. “You two get some rest. I can give Chelo a ride back if that’s what she prefers.”

Chelo stood and wrapped her arms around Elle. “Thank you. Elle, thank you so much for caring. All of you.” She turned to include Trak. “You are showing me an entirely different way of life, and I will be forever grateful.” Tuck wrapped his arm around Elle, but he leaned close and kissed Chelo on the cheek.

“I’m glad we found you,” he said. “You’ve been without a healthy pack your entire life. I think you’ll be a good fit for this crowd.”

When they left, the bar felt terribly intimate. Chelo wasn’t quite sure where to sit, what to say. Elle was so full of life, and Tuck was obviously head over heels in love with his mate. It was a beautiful thing to watch, but now Elle was gone and she was here alone with Trak. She wasn’t afraid, but there was a different sort of tension in the air. An unfamiliar sense of … something.

Trak stood. “Why don’t you help me close up the bar and then we can go back to the lodge, see if the party’s still going on. I’d like to let the rest of the pack know that you’re going to be joining us as soon as the formalities are over.” He gathered his beer bottle and a couple of glasses off the table.

Chelo cleared the plates—they’d finished off all the sandwiches and she’d had a second margarita, but that had been hours ago. Now they cleared the table and she wiped it down while Trak loaded everything in the dishwasher behind the bar. He locked the cash box in a safe in the small office in back, checked to make sure everything was turned off, and then followed Chelo out the door and carefully locked it behind him.

The night was dark with just a quarter moon on the horizon. Trak took her hand and they followed the road back to the lodge. So much had happened tonight; so much was still happening. She never could have imagined walking hand in hand with the Trinity Alps pack alpha, knowing that he had welcomed her into his pack even though she’d told him she was a risk, that Rube was probably still hunting for her.

She was so tired of running. She thought of her parents. They would have found Henri’s body, but they never would have known what happened to her. That was so many years ago, and yet their faces were still clear to her. Oddly, Henri’s not so much. She’d loved him, but they were together such a short time. His death had, in many ways, been her death as well.

She was not the woman he’d married. Would never again be that simple girl on a small farm in the north country.

“You seem sad, Chelo.” Trak stopped and turned, took both her hands in his. “Do you want me to take you back to town?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes when she shook her head. “No. I don’t want to leave here at all.”

“Good.”

His emphatic answer startled her. She raised her head and caught him looking at her with almost a sense of longing. But that couldn’t be right. He hardly knew her and what he did know was all the ugly stuff. “But where …?”

“I want you to stay, Chelo. You’re safe here and no one will harm you. Ever. I’m concerned about Rube finding you if you’re alone in town. We need to figure out where he is and essentially neutralize the problem at some point, but for now I want you to know you’re welcome to stay. I want you to stay. There are rooms in the lodge or, if you prefer more privacy, we can give you one of the cabins for now, though they’re all going to be filled midweek for the wedding.”

She smiled. She’d totally forgotten about the wedding! “It’s late. I’m not ready to sleep yet. I’m still pretty wound up.”

He tugged her hand and they started walking toward the lodge again. “I’ve got the perfect solution. C’mon.”

The lodge was dark when they were close enough to see it through the trees. Only a small lamp inside cast a soft golden glow across the large dining room. The party had obviously ended. Trak led her across the parking lot and up the stairs. The door was unlocked and they entered the empty lodge, but he obviously had a destination in mind. He went behind the bar at the back of the dining area and came out with a bottle of dark red wine, the cork shoved halfway in.

“I think you’ll like this. Come back to my cabin. I’ve got an extra room where you can stay, and I promise you’re safe from me. I’m not like those men you’re accustomed to. You can sleep in the guest room—it has a lock on the door—when you’re ready for bed, but until then we can sit in the main room or even out on the deck and have a glass of port. It will help you relax and I can guarantee you a good night’s sleep.”

She might be crazy to take him up on his offer, but he was the nicest man she’d met since becoming a shifter. “That works,” she said, acting as nonchalant as she was able.

She couldn’t imagine Trak forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to do, and she wasn’t ready to leave him. Not yet. He was absolutely fascinating—tall and handsome, and strong looking. He wasn’t as physically big as Tuck, but the sense of power around Trak was intimidating all on its own.

“Good.” Trak took her hand again and they walked back down the road toward the bar and then veered off to the right on a much narrower trail.

They followed it about a hundred yards before coming out into a small meadow with an absolutely lovely cabin set against the forest. Tall cedar and pine trees framed the structure and there was a full deck that appeared to circle the entire cabin, similar to the one at the lodge. A soft light glowed from within; pale moonlight threw shadows across the clearing in front.

The cabin was so perfect, the way it was nestled in front of the tall trees, as if it were part of the woods. “It’s beautiful,” she said, taking in the attractive deck, the heavy stone foundation, and the natural logs that made up the main structure. A fireplace and chimney of the same river-worn rocks as the foundation covered one corner, and she imagined a snowy winter’s eve with a fire crackling inside, warming the cozy cabin.

Tonight, though, was much too warm for a fire. It was a perfect night to run, but no one had mentioned shifting and racing the moon, maybe because it was waning and barely more than a sliver. She’d had so few chances to actually enjoy her wolven nature.

Trak tugged her toward the cabin. “Come see the inside. It’s really comfortable.”

“It’s perfect.” She glanced at him, loving the pride in his voice, the fact that he was obviously enjoying showing her his home.

“I built it with help from Lawson, my older brother. You met him earlier this afternoon. He’s an engineer—quite successful, actually—and real handy when trying to build a home that fits all the county regulations.” He chuckled softly. “Not something we used to have to worry about, but my other place wasn’t nearly as well-built and it was time for a new one. When we applied for permits for the cabins for Feral Passions, we added this and homes for the others in the pack to the proposal.”

He shoved open the front door and followed her through. The light she’d seen earlier was over the gas range in the kitchen, a beautiful dark bronze stove that matched the other appliances. She’d never seen anything like it before. This was obviously a much wealthier pack than the one she’d left.

“Do you want to sit on the deck or inside?”

“The deck, I think. It’s too beautiful out tonight to come inside yet. If that’s okay with you.”

“Definitely.”

He let go of her hand and went into the kitchen, which was all part of one big room with a dining area and comfortable chairs around a big-screen television. Stairs led to rooms upstairs and what appeared to be an office or extra bedroom on the ground floor. The furnishings were all beautifully made from what looked like native woods. The same craftsmanship was visible wherever she looked. Beautiful original paintings of wolves and other wildlife covered the walls.

“Here we go.” Trak handed two wineglasses to Chelo and grabbed the bottle. She followed him back to the deck and they took seats by a small table. Trak poured wine for each of them and handed a partially filled glass to her.

He held his glass up in a toast. Flustered, she wasn’t sure what to do with hers, but then she copied him and laughed when he touched the two goblets together. The ringing sound they made was sweeter than any bell she’d ever heard.

“Welcome to the Trinity Alps pack, Chelo.”

When he smiled, she loved how his eyes smiled, too. He was obviously a powerful alpha and his pack loved him, but there was nothing cruel about him, no sense that he was looking for a way to dominate her, to make her feel less than she really was.

“I am really glad you’ve come to us.” He shook his head and actually looked confused for a moment. “I feel a connection to you, but I’m not sure what it is. Only that it’s something I hope we can explore as you grow more comfortable with us. With me.”

He took a sip of his wine. “Taste it. I’m curious to see what you think.”

She took a sip and held the liquid in her mouth, savoring his unexpected words along with the unfamiliar taste of the wine. She’d never heard of port.

She’d never had a man speak to her the way Trak did. As if she had value. As if he cared about her feelings. “This is good,” she said, thinking that everything about Traker Jakes was good. She was thankful for the glass in her hand. Something to focus on besides her swirling thoughts. “It’s really good. I don’t know anything about wine, but I really like this one.”

Laughing softly, she set her glass down. “I’m not much of a drinker, and after two margaritas today and now this?”

Shaking her head, she stared at the wine. The glass wavered, blurred, and she realized she was crying. So embarrassing! Wiping her eyes with both hands, she turned away, but Trak was there in a heartbeat, kneeling beside her chair with his big hands holding her thighs.

“Chelo? What’s wrong? Did I say …?”

“No.” She interrupted him before he could apologize. There was nothing for him to apologize for. She was the one who was losing it. “Nothing you’ve done.” She hiccupped. “Well, actually, it’s everything you’ve done, but it’s all good.”

She took the handkerchief he handed to her. It was still damp, the one he’d given her when she’d had her meltdown at the bar, telling her story. She never cried, but as she wiped her eyes suddenly she was laughing and crying at the same time while Trak knelt at her feet looking totally confused, studying her as if she were absolutely crazy.

Maybe she was. This entire day had been a dream and she was so afraid she’d wake up and find out none of it was real. But it had to be real. It just had to.

_____________

Trak tried to imagine what was going through Chelo’s mind. She’d lived an absolutely brutal existence for almost ninety years. The amazing thing was that she’d survived. He wondered if he would have been as tough.

“I’m sorry.” She held up the handkerchief. Her eyes still sparkled with tears, her thick, dark lashes were clumped together, but she was actually smiling. “I should probably consider buying you a case of these. I’m not usually prone to tears, though at this point I don’t expect you to believe me.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I think you’re one tough lady. I was just wondering if I would have had the guts to survive what you’ve been through.”

He got up from his knees and sat in his chair again, but he never took his gaze off her.

She just stared right back at him. There was no response to a silly comment like that. He had so much power. Not even their alpha had power like Trak’s. She often wondered if that’s why the men of that pack were so cruel, because they knew they were losers, knew they could never compete against a truly strong alpha leader.

“What happened to me never would happen to a man like you, Trak. You’re a strong male. I was physically incapable of protecting myself. The only thing I’m really proud of is that when Jorge died he didn’t take me with him. I fought his pull and won. And then I ran.”

“He tried to take you with him? Damn. Chelo, you won because you’re a strong alpha in your own right. I imagine you were more powerful than your mate, which is probably why you were able to fight him for so many years. It’s why he couldn’t pull you into death with him. We choose not to practice that archaic tradition in our pack. The only way a mate will join their partner in death is by choice, a pact they make together. We’ve never had to test it. No one in this pack has died since I built it.”

“It’s all yours? You’re the founder?”

He nodded. “In a way. My brother and I. My birth pack was originally east of the Mississippi before the Civil War, which is around the time Lawson and I were born. The pack was growing older, but the alpha was still strong. He was a good man, a good leader, and I wasn’t willing to challenge him, so a few of us moved west. Lawz and I ended up in this area in 1900 and settled here. The older folks tended to stay together. A few mated couples followed us out west. They’re not actually part of our pack, but they maintain occasional contact. They’ve settled over on the eastern side of the state, but most of them live in towns now and never shift anymore. A few others went into the mountains. They stay in their wolf form; a few chose to die that way.”

“I’ve rarely shifted over the years.” She gazed toward the dark forest. “I used to shift in order to escape, but the beatings were horrible. When Jorge died and I ran, I ran as a woman. Stole a car and learned how to drive it on the way out of our community. I’ve hardly shifted since.”

“We could run tonight. Would you like to explore a little?”

She opened her mouth. Shut it. Shook her head. “We can do that here? Run as wolves without fear?”

He grinned. “It’s a wolf preserve. The wild wolves accept us. They haven’t quite figured us out, but they’re okay with us. C’mon. I’ll take you for a quick run. That will definitely ensure a good night’s sleep.”

He stood and kicked off his moccasins, pulled his shirt over his head, and slipped out of his jeans. Chelo realized she was staring. He was so gorgeous and she wanted to see, but then he raised his head and caught her looking. She was positive she turned at least ten shades of red.

Turning her back, she quickly stripped out of her clothes, folded them, and stacked them on the chair. When she turned around, Trak was the one staring, but he didn’t get embarrassed at all when she caught him.

“You are absolutely beautiful.” He stared at her a moment, appreciation evident in his dark eyes. Then he sort of shook himself and turned away. He grabbed his wineglass, tilted it to his lips, and emptied the glass. Chelo did the same.

Trak bent at the waist, changing from man to wolf faster than she’d ever seen anyone make the shift, so quickly that a wolf turned and stared at her by the time his palms—now paws—touched the deck. It took Chelo longer, though not by much.

She’d forgotten the joy of shifting, the change not only in her body but also in her mind, her senses. The night was suddenly redolent with scents she’d barely noticed in her human form. Deer frequented the area, and rabbits munched grass nearby. It had rained a few days earlier and the air still carried the scent of damp earth and new moss. And Trak!

The scent of his wolf was an aphrodisiac, calling her close with so much power it was hard to fight the desire to rub against him, to nip and chase. Hard, but not impossible. She wasn’t ready for anything like that. Wondered if she ever would be again.

Trak trotted down the steps and Chelo followed. His wolf was larger than hers; his silvery coat with fur tipped in black rippled like liquid mercury in the pale moonlight. The upper edges of his ears were black, as was the top of his tail from his rump to the tip. He was absolutely magnificent. If she’d searched the world over, Chelo knew she could never have found a better man to protect her.

His Nellie stirred in his arms and Evan smiled into the darkness. He’d wondered if the wolves might wake her. He recognized Trak’s powerful howl, the power of the alpha ringing true in his song, but the other wolf was unfamiliar.

He’d bet good money Trak ran with his little florist tonight.

“Wolves. I hear wolves!” Smiling, Darnell pushed herself to a sitting position beside Evan. She turned to him, blinking herself awake. “How long have you been awake?”

He kissed her. Just a quick one before he answered. “I haven’t been asleep. I think I was afraid if I closed my eyes you’d disappear.”

She smiled even wider. “I told you, big guy. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s good.” He ran his fingertip over the edge of her ear. “I’ve imagined you in my bed ever since the first day you showed up at the resort.”

She made a face. “You could have let me know. It’s not like I was playing hard to get.”

“I didn’t want to scare you off. My feelings, even then, were pretty strong. I knew if I ever got you here I wouldn’t want you to leave.”

She leaned close and wrapped her arms around him. “That might have been negotiated. I like it here.”

“I like having you here.” The wolves howled again, a little closer this time. Trak must have taken her up the hill toward Blackbird Lake. There was a promontory on the way up, a perfect place for wolves to howl when you were really looking for an echo. Even the wild ones had figured it out. “After you left, I used to lie here in bed and imagine you beside me. Now don’t laugh, but I always thought of you as my Nellie, just a name I could call you.”

She laughed. “Nellie? I am so not a Nellie. Dar, maybe. I get that a lot.”

“You’ve been Nellie—or Nell—to me since the very beginning. I’m not sure why, but I think it suits you.” He laughed and kissed the smile off her face.

“I guess I can deal with it.” She looped her arms over his shoulders, adding, “Since it suits you.” She kissed him, a long, leisurely kiss that definitely got his attention. There was a twinkle in her eyes when she innocently said, “The wolves are quiet now, but I’m wide-awake. What we were doing before seemed to help me sleep really well. Are you at all …?”

“Oh, yeah.” He rolled over and trapped her with his body. She shrieked with laughter as he caged her in with elbows and knees, capturing her sexy mouth with his and trying really hard—and failing—to quiet his needy groan as he licked into her mouth, teasing an answering whimper from her.

He had a good four months’ worth of deprivation to make up for. Tonight was as good a time as any to begin. Tomorrow was soon enough to start thinking about how he was going to tell her exactly what she was getting into, should she choose him as her mate.

_____________

It was close to two in the morning before Trak led Chelo up the steps to his cabin. He couldn’t recall another run where he’d had this much fun. Tuck had mentioned how much more he enjoyed running now that he had Elle. Trak finally understood. Chelo was fast, and her wolf was absolutely stunning. A shimmering copper reflecting russet flashes in the moonlight, her coat was more like that of a red fox than a typical wolf.

They’d hunted without a kill, but that was by choice, stalking rabbits to watch them bound away to safety, coming up behind a large buck and growling to warn him off. There was no point in taking life when they weren’t hungry and the herd didn’t need culling. He liked the fact that Chelo seemed to understand this without his need to shift and explain. The wild wolves on the preserve managed to keep everything in balance and the werepack only took game on rare occasions.

Since the problems with poachers in the last few months, there’d been no reason to hunt. At least those bastards were in jail and Trak’s bullet wound had entirely healed, but the deer herd would need time to rebuild to match its former numbers. Too many had been taken before the pack had realized what was going on. The preserve was huge, but they needed to do a better job of guarding the animals from the hunters who thought anything on four legs—even behind fences and “No Trespassing” signs—was fair game.

At the top step Trak shifted, grabbed their folded clothes off the chairs, and opened the door for Chelo. “C’mon in. It’s getting chilly out here. You can shift inside where it’s warm.”

She entered the cabin and waited while Trak set her clothes on a chair in the main room. Naked and wanting, transfixed by her beauty, he watched her change. She paused by the chair, glanced his way, and then focused on the floor between her front paws. Her body rippled and shimmered beneath the overhead light, flowing like molten metal. Coppery gold and rust-red fur gave way to silky honey-toned skin. Her muzzle flattened, her ears lost their points, her bone structure changed, as she gracefully morphed from wolf to woman.

Her long, dark hair fell loosely over one shoulder, pooling on the hardwood floor.

Her shift wasn’t as fast as his, but she was still faster than some of the guys in his pack, denoting her alpha status. Oddly, Chelo seemed totally unaware of her own power. He wondered how much she even knew about what she was. Had anyone told her anything at all?

Her shift complete, she stayed on her hands and knees for a moment, blinking into the light. He recognized that momentary disorientation when the body’s senses shifted from the ultrasensitive wolf to their more mundane human abilities. He’d worked at overcoming that, and with a bit of training he imagined Chelo would learn to work through it as seamlessly as she’d shifted her body.

He was doing his best to ignore his erection when he walked over and held out his hand. She raised her head, blinking as if coming out of a sound sleep. Then she smiled, realized what she was looking at, and her pupils flared. She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

She was a truly remarkable woman, her body curved in all the right places, full breasts standing proud, broad hips flaring from a narrow waist, her bottom more than a handful but perfectly formed. With her thick, dark hair falling to her waist, she was the epitome of an ancient fertility goddess, an open invitation calling for his touch.

He released her hand, crossed his traitorous arms across his chest, locked his fingers around his elbows. Literally holding himself back from touching her. “Thank you for the run tonight, Chelo.” He kept his voice level, the cadence smooth. At least his alpha strength was good for some things. Staying calm when everything told him to act was an alpha ability he’d rarely had to call on. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the chance to shift and run for the pure joy of it.” He loosened his grip on himself, scooped up her clothes, and led her to the stairway. “The guest room is upstairs. It has its own bathroom; you should find everything you need. Do you have to go in to work tomorrow?”

Still bemused, probably from her shift, she shook her head. “No. I’m closed on Sundays.”

“Good. It’s late. I think I might just sleep in.” He paused in front of the first room. “If you get hungry, there’s stuff in the refrigerator and the coffee is on the counter. I should be up before you, but if I’m not, make yourself at home.” He handed her folded clothing to her, leaned close, and lightly kissed her lips. “Sleep well. If you need me, I’ll be in the room downstairs.”

“Oh. Is that your room? The one off the great room?”

“No. Usually I sleep up here, the room at the other end of the loft. Good night.”

“But …?” She touched his arm. “Why are you sleeping downstairs?”

He ran his hand over her dark, shining hair. “I don’t want you to be afraid.” He shrugged, hoping she understood his intentions. “I think you’ve had enough men running your life. I want you to know there won’t be any pressure on you here.” He smiled. “Not unless you want it.”

She stared at him for what felt like a very long time. Then she let out a breath and closed her eyes. “Thank you. I think that’s the nicest thing any man has ever done for me.”

“Good night, Chelo. Sleep well.” He turned and walked back to the stairs and went down to the room he rarely used. It might have been the nicest thing a man had ever done for Chelo, but as far as Trak was concerned, walking away from her when he wanted her like he wanted his next breath was easily the hardest thing he’d ever done.