From the ground, this part of Montana was as pretty as it’d been from the air. Winding country roads lined by snow-dusted evergreens and spindly lodgepole pines were set against the backdrop of the Cabinet Mountains. It was like stepping into an Ansel Adams photograph.
Despite the beauty, the ride in Freddie’s Ford Explorer was one of the worst trips Izzy had ever experienced. An impressive feat considering she’d ridden in cramped armored vehicles through a war zone. Somehow the threat of IEDs and insurgents meant nothing compared to Rissa’s ice-blue gaze. It bore down on Izzy like a steel spike.
“Freaking jackass,” Freddie said out of the blue.
“Who?” Rissa asked.
“Luke. If he thinks—” He made a disgusted sound.
Terrified for her brother, Izzy stared at Rissa. How could he be so nonchalant about insulting one of her pack?
“Hmph,” Rissa said. She reached across the seat.
It was like that moment in a horror film right before something gruesome happens. You know it’s coming. Sometimes you even scream at the screen, begging the hero to watch out! But, of course, he doesn’t. And you have to helplessly sit back, peeking through your fingers, while the Big Bad dismembers him.
Well, Izzy refused to play morbid observer. In a flash, her fingers were around her knife handle. As she started to jerk it free of its sheath, Rissa stroked Freddie’s arm and slid her fingers into the hair at his nape. He plucked Rissa’s hand off his shoulder and kissed her fingers. She blew him one in return. Reflected in the rearview mirror, a sweet smile lit his face.
Izzy blinked, stunned. Freddie wasn’t afraid. Not even a little bit. It was absurd, incomprehensible.
If he knew better, he’d be terrified.
She rubbed her throbbing temples, trying to make sense of the situation. It felt like trying to stand in a canoe in choppy water. She’d just catch her balance when another set of waves would come along and knock her down.
“I can’t believe this,” Freddie said. “I heard the words. They were in English and everything, but I don’t understand.” Twisting in his seat, he threw a glance at Izzy over his shoulder. “How could you have kept this from me for all these years, Iz?”
The hurt in his voice tormented her. “How could we have told you?”
He made a sound of disgust.
They turned onto an unpaved road. The Explorer bounced along the deep ruts and bumps of packed snow. Combined with the unavoidable scent of werewolf, the rough ride sent her empty stomach roiling. Sweat trickled down her spine and her skin itched like ants were crawling all over her. She had the insane desire to throw open the door and leap out. Broken bones and road rash had to be better than being stuck in the too-hot SUV.
“Are you all right?” Rissa asked her.
Hell no. “Hot, ’s all.” Izzy stabbed at the window controls and cold air rushed into the Explorer, blowing right in her face.
“Izzy, it’s freezing out there. What are you doing?” Freddie’s voice sounded very far away.
“Feels good,” she said. Boy, did it ever. “Been cooped up all day. The air’s so clean here.” It smelled like snow and pine and cooled her fevered skin. After a minute, the horrible prickling sensation abated. She sat back in the seat, sighing in relief.
“Better?” Rissa asked, a strange look on her face.
Izzy would have flipped her off, but she decided to take the high road. For Freddie’s sake. “Yup.”
Freddie began powering up the window. “No, baby. Leave it open,” Rissa said. “As long as Izzy wants.”
The understanding in the other woman’s eyes unnerved Izzy. She squirmed again.
Freddie watched her in the rearview mirror. “Since when are you claustrophobic?”
“I’m not.”
“Riiiiiight,” he said.
Rissa touched Freddie’s arm and shook her head. She glanced at Izzy, then averted her eyes. Weird. “When was the last time you were around other lycanthropes?” Rissa asked.
“I don’t know. There was this guy in DC about six months ago. A cat of some kind, I think. He smelled kind of sharp, you know?”
Rissa nodded. “How long did you talk with him?”
“I didn’t talk to him.” Was she nuts? “I caught a whiff of him in a crowd and hopped into the first cab I saw.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Izzy couldn’t keep the derision out of her voice. Why the hell would she stick around for a conversation with a predator?
“Ah.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rissa didn’t answer as they turned off the bumpy road onto a long gravel drive. Izzy didn’t know what the other woman was getting at and she didn’t care. Her stomach hurt. Exhaustion burned her eyes and the bitter cold was making her face numb. Still, she didn’t close the window. Just the thought made her skin crawl again.
The driveway ended in front of a two-story example of modern, energy-efficient architecture, placed just so among the soaring trees. Darkness had fallen while they drove and golden light poured from walls made mostly of glass, illuminating a large porch and snow-covered grounds. Izzy saw at least a half-dozen individuals moving about inside.
“Ah, Christ. Are we still doing this, Ris?” Freddie asked.
Several cars and trucks were parked around the curving drive. As Freddie pulled the SUV to a stop, another came down the drive behind them.
“Well, I didn’t exactly get a chance to call them off,” Rissa said, waving at a group of boys and girls running through the yard, pelting each other with snowballs. “Though I’m sure my mother has given them all an earful by now.”
“Shit.” Freddie jerked, powering up Izzy’s window the instant before a barrage of frozen missiles splattered the driver’s-side glass. Kids tore off around the side of the house, laughing maniacally.
He banged his head against the headrest and whined, “Ris.”
“Sorry,” Rissa said, her lips twitching. “They only do it because they like you.”
“Yeah, like a gunner likes a target,” Izzy said.
Rissa snorted, and did a poor job of smothering a laugh. Freddie glared at her as she opened her door and slid out.
“I’d better go and clear the way.” She gestured toward the small crowd trickling out onto the covered porch.
Another vehicle approached the house, its headlights shining on the crowd. The human-looking weres’ eyes gleamed unnaturally in the bright lights, like the animals inside them.
Werewolves.
Izzy’s chest constricted.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, her brother turned toward the back of the SUV. “Look, I told you we invited some people over. I know this is not going like we planned, but—”
“Those aren’t people,” she said, her voice a hard slash.
Freddie pinned her with a ferocious look. “The hell they’re not. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this is my home.” He pointed at the house as a woman in a bright red parka jogged up the porch steps, carrying a foil-covered dish. “Rissa’s home. Those people are Rissa’s family. Every one of them is here to meet you, because you’re my family. And whether you like it or not, they’ve made me a part of theirs. So no more knives or martial arts displays.”
“You don’t—”
He pointed at her. “I mean it, Iz.”
A sudden realization made her gasp. “You’re already mated.”
“Yeah,” he said, that damned sweet smile spreading across his face again.
Hopelessness sank into her stomach like grease. “There’s no getting out for you now,” she whispered. “She’ll never let you go.”
“God, I hope not.”
Izzy shook her head and looked at the light-filled house. Weres walked back and forth past the windows, three small children rushed up the steps, squealing and stomping booted feet.
By all appearances it seemed like any other home. Full of...people. Smoke drifted from the chimney. Laughter and voices flowed out the door.
It reminded her of the house they’d lived in with the Dodds in Chicago. Sure, the design and neighborhood were different, but everything else spoke of comfort and happiness.
“Filthy beasts.” Her grandmother’s rasping voice rang in her head again. Instinctively, Izzy hunched, waiting for a blow until, in a whiplash of emotion, anger replaced fear. For a moment, she wished the old bitch were still alive. Seeing her grandmother’s face as partying werewolves surrounded them would almost make this whole nightmare worth it.
Squaring her shoulders, she met Freddie’s gaze. “Okay.”
“Swear?” He held up a fist—his version of an olive branch. Her panic eased a bit more.
“Yeah. I swear. I’ll behave.” If they do. She bumped her fist against his, then shook his hand. The gesture was one that had sealed every deal of their teen years.
They opened their doors. As the pervasive smell of werewolf smacked her in the face, she prayed she could keep her promise.
* * *
Watching Isabelle drive away without him was one of the hardest things Luke had ever done. His muscles vibrated, ready to spring into action and give chase. But no matter how unhappy it made him and his wolf, his instincts told him to give her space.
“You know you’re growling, don’t ya?”
He shot Dean a look that would have caused most wolves to tuck their tails and hide behind their mommies. But Dean only laughed.
“Do you know it’s a good thing you’re on the other side of this truck right now?”
Dean shrugged and braced his arms on the roof of Luke’s pickup truck. “Gotta say, I’m pretty impressed you let your mate ride off like that.”
Luke bared his teeth.
Hands up, Dean got into the passenger seat of Luke’s F-150. “Fine, but you’re ruining the impression you know what you’re doing, man.”
Looking to the heavens, Luke counted and prayed for the strength to not kill his cousin. When he reached ten, he paused.
Nope. He still wanted to throttle the big idiot.
Sighing, he opened the driver’s door and slid in. “Uh, why are you here? You have your own truck, remember?”
“Thought I should keep you company. Wouldn’t do for the Alpha to get pulled over for speeding or run hapless civilians off the roads.”
Luke rolled his eyes and started the engine. “I’m fine.”
“Ha!”
His wolf clawed at his inner shields, desperate to take form in reality. Luke sucked several deep breaths. If he didn’t get a grip, he’d drive them into the light post. “Okay. You’re right. I’m not fine. Happy?”
Dean sighed. “No. I get it. You know I suspected Sarah was my mate when we were kids, but when we hit maturity...” He shook his head. “There was no holding back. I couldn’t do what you’re doing right now.”
“What am I doing, precisely? Because I sure as hell don’t know.”
“The right thing. Because that was some howdy-do back there, huh?”
That was an understatement. Luke scrubbed his hand through his hair. The scent of Isabelle’s terror still burned in his nose. He didn’t understand why she was so afraid of them, but he damn well would find out, and take care of it.
Then he’d take care of her.
The certainty that Isabelle would be theirs calmed his agitated wolf and let Luke breathe easier. Until that moment, he hadn’t noticed the tight band of worry constricting his lungs.
“Is it always like this?” he asked, tapping his chest. “The...concern, the—”
“Mind-boggling, gut-wrenching, ungodly torture of consternation, fear, and dread?”
Luke goggled at his cousin.
“Nah, man. Don’t worry,” Dean said, backhanding Luke’s arm. “That’s now. It’ll get better. Maybe. I think. Tell you what, I’ll let you know when it happens for me.”
Luke sucked in a long breath. “Shit.”
“Pretty much.”
“How do you stand it?”
Dean shrugged. “Honestly, you get used to it. It just becomes part of you. It’s why we’re such possessive Neanderthals.” He grinned. “Or at least that’s what Sarah says.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?”
Dean laughed. “Because it’s not something you could understand until you experience it. Don’t worry. Once you claim her, it’ll even out. You won’t feel like tearing apart every single, solitary thing between you and your mate. Much.”
This was a disaster. “You saw how Isabelle reacted to being dropped into the middle of a pack of werewolves.”
“Freaked right the hell out.”
“Exactly.”
“But she didn’t run.”
That stopped Luke’s bolting thoughts. “What?”
“That little female was so scared it poured out of her like a flood. I nearly choked on it. Did she scream like a baby? Did she hightail it outta there? Nope. Your mate drop-kicked one of the meanest fighters I’ve ever seen and threw herself between her family and what she obviously saw as hell itself.” Dean blew out a breath in clear appreciation. “She stuck around. She’s a fighter.”
As Luke turned onto the long, unpaved road leading onto Rissa and Freddie’s property, he thought about what Dean said, and smiled. “Yeah. She is.”
Dean nodded. “Good thing, too. ’Cause the way things have been going around here, she’s gonna need to be.”