Savage Urges

  According to Rhett, Travis had been an Alpha since he was twenty-one. He’d mated a year later and had four pups. He mostly kept to himself, not interested in politics or making alliances; he was much like Trey, in that respect. Trey hadn’t bothered to form alliances until just before he mated Taryn, when he’d been a target of an ambitious asshole.

  Travis inclined his head at Trey. “Coleman.”

  “Bradwin,” said Trey.

  It was a simple greeting, but their tone was polite and respectful.

  Travis introduced his mate, Betas, and two enforcers before introducing the two wolves they had come to see—Rosa and Fenton. Trey introduced each of the Phoenix wolves, and then everyone took a seat. Except for Ryan, who stood with his back against the wall, watchful.

  “Myles tells me you need to speak with two of my wolves,” said Travis. “Your high-handedness isn’t appreciated. You should have contacted me and requested a meeting.”

  Trey didn’t appear to take offense. “I figured you’d contact me if there was a problem. But you didn’t. Why? Why not refuse us entrance?”

  “Because the subject is Remy Deacon. I have pups of my own, so if the rumors about him are true, I’ve no problem being of assistance to anyone who wishes to end his life.”

  Good, because it was very likely that was exactly what would happen.

  Elise bit her lip. “Are they true?”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out,” replied Taryn. Because Trey had a way of inspiring fear in people, she’d insisted on coming along, strangely thinking that her presence would be reassuring. The presence of another female, sure. Not Taryn, considering she had a reputation for being just as unbalanced as her mate.

  Trey looked at Rosa and Fenton. “As you know, we have some questions about Remy.”

  Rosa licked her lips. “May I ask why you’re interested?”

  “I can’t go into the specifics. But I can tell you that he may soon be in a situation where he has access to a lot of shifter children.”

  Fenton visibly recoiled and Travis uttered a low expletive.

  Rosa swallowed. “What is it you want to know?”

  Taryn leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table. “I want to know what kind of Alpha Remy is; I want to know about his personality. What five words would you use to describe him? I don’t mean things like ‘dominant’ or ‘domineering’—we’ve figured that much out for ourselves.”

  Rosa thought about it for a moment. “Charismatic. Neat. Well mannered. Determined. Short-tempered. But I’ve never seen him blow a fuse. They’re more like hot flashes of anger.”

  “He’s a good Alpha,” said Fenton. “More ambitious and greedy than most, but not negligent. He’s protective of his wolves, and he keeps the pack organized and strong.”

  Trey spoke then. “From what Myles said, you think his mother sexually abused him. Is that right?”

  Rosa seemed to struggle for words. “Their relationship . . . it’s not healthy. She doesn’t like other females around him.”

  Taryn’s mouth curved slightly, and Ryan imagined she was thinking about Greta. “Maybe she just can’t cut the apron strings.”

  Rosa shook her head. “You’d have to see them together to understand. She touches him all the time—lingering touches, not the way a mother touches her son. It made my skin crawl. Deanne’s possessive of him the way a shifter would be possessive of their mate. She constantly accuses him of sleeping with females of the pack. To my knowledge, he hasn’t slept with any of them. I know some females who would have been happy to crawl into his bed—not everyone believes the rumors.”

  “What about Remy?” asked Taryn. “How does he react to Deanne’s behavior?”

  “I wouldn’t say he’s receptive to her touch, but he never pushes her away. He doesn’t like her possessiveness and they argue something fierce about it. But then she cries and says he doesn’t love her or he wouldn’t yell at her like that. Then he stops and comforts her, saying of course he loves her.” Rosa rubbed her upper arms. “Like I said, you’d have to see them together to really understand. But I’m telling you, no mother should touch her son like that.”

  Trey draped an arm over the back of Taryn’s chair. “I understand Remy spends a lot of time with the children.”

  Fenton nodded. “Mostly the boys. He keeps them close to him.”

  “You sure that he’s not protecting them from Deanne?” Taryn shrugged. “I mean, if she abused him, he could worry she’ll abuse them.”

  Rosa twiddled her fingers. “It crossed my mind, but . . .”

  “What?” Trey pressed.

  “Again, it’s something you’d have to see.” Rosa’s gaze turned inward. “The way he touches them is innocent, almost reverent. Just little strokes on their head, light pats on their back, and fingering their hair. But I once saw a child flinch away from his touch, and Remy backhanded him so hard he fell to the ground. The boy didn’t flinch the next time.”

  Ryan bit back a growl. It was like Remy was grooming them, getting them used to his touch.

  Dante linked hands with a pale Jaime. “How many boys went missing?”

  “Three,” replied Fenton. “Two were orphans.”

  “How old were they?”

  “I think two of them were seven and the other was eight, but I’m not certain.”

  “Do you think Remy killed them?”

  “That, I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine him doing such a thing. He’s very protective of all the pups, even if it’s for the wrong reason.”

  “Maybe they fought the abuse or threatened to tell someone,” suggested Jaime. “Remy wouldn’t have liked that.”

  Ryan grunted his agreement. Remy would get rid of them not just to protect his reputation but to show the other children what would happen if they put up any sort of struggle.

  “Myles mentioned that one of the males within the pack accused Remy of abusing his son,” said Trey.

  Fenton nodded. “I wasn’t there, but Rosa was.”

  “That was an awful morning. Vance was a dominant wolf, but he wasn’t the confrontational type. He was a very laid-back male, hardly ever lost his temper. But that morning, he tracked Remy down and looked ready to kill him. Vance said that his nine-year-old son, Clay, claimed that Remy touched him inappropriately when they went on one of their nature walks. He called him sick and perverted and a bunch of other names. Then he just flew at Remy, shifting into a wolf midair. He fought well, but Remy won. Vance’s mate didn’t survive his death, and Clay was nowhere to be seen. Some think Remy killed him, but most think he just ran off.”

  Ryan had a question. “How many actually suspect he’s a pedophile?”

  “Not many,” replied Fenton. “We talked about it. We thought of grouping together and confronting him. But most of us were submissive wolves—we didn’t have a chance against Remy, even as a group, especially since he has his Beta and enforcers to protect him.”

  That much was true. They would have simply gotten themselves killed, which wouldn’t have helped anyone.

  “And after seeing what happened to Vance, we were all afraid,” added Rosa. “By killing him, Remy showed the pack exactly what would happen to anyone who voiced their suspicions. And that’s all they are—suspicions.”

  “But that Clay kid accused Remy of abusing him,” Trick reminded them.

  “Yes,” allowed Fenton, “but as Remy pointed out, Clay was a troubled pup who was always lying and stealing.”

  The perfect target, in a way, since it was unlikely that his accusations would be believed.

  “Yet, you didn’t stay there.” Dante tilted his head. “I’m surprised he let you leave.”

  “That’s the thing about Remy,” said Fenton. “He is a good Alpha. He treats his wolves well. That’s why it’s so hard to believe he could be guilty of those things. But we have kids; we weren’t prepared to take the chance.”

  Neither was Ryan, which was why he had to ensure that the shelter was never handed ove
r to Remy. And if it turned out that the rumors were true, Remy would have to die.

  Makenna was serving a customer when the door of the gas station opened and a specimen of untamed masculinity stalked inside. Her wolf sat up, fascinated as always by Ryan’s immense confidence and forceful presence. As his dark, brooding eyes met hers, raw hunger flared through Makenna’s body. It was a need that viciously clawed and bit at her day and night. She’d dreamed of him the previous night, his teeth dominantly locked around her shoulder as he fiercely hammered into her.

  Dragging her gaze away from him, she smiled at her human customer and handed him his change. It was almost amusing the way he regarded Ryan nervously, as if expecting to be leaped on. Ryan didn’t spare him a glance; he was staring right at Makenna—focused on her with the intensity of a jungle predator. And the memory of his kiss shoved its way to the forefront of her mind. All day, she’d tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how he’d overwhelmed her senses and taken her mouth like it was his right. Tried and failed.

  Once he was finally alone with Makenna, Ryan said, “We spoke with Myles’s pack mates.” He’d half expected his words to be guttural. A ferocious hunger was building inside him, tightening his body and causing an animalistic growl to build in his chest. He frowned as he saw that the mark on her lip had faded. “They had a lot to say.”

  After he told her all he’d heard, Makenna blew out a long breath. “A small part of me actually feels bad for Remy, but none of what happened to him could ever excuse what he’s doing. He can’t get his hands on the shelter—”

  “He won’t,” Ryan promised, voice filled with resolve. “I won’t allow that.”

  It was impossible not to believe him. “Well, thanks for keeping me updated.”

  As she released a tired sigh, Ryan noticed the dark circles under her eyes. A growl trickled out of him. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

  Stress tended to keep her awake. Unable to resist poking at Ryan, she merely said, “So?”

  “So I don’t like it.”

  “Is that a fact?” She chuckled.

  “You like to see me agitated.”

  “I’d rather see you smile. I’m working on that.”

  Warmth filled Ryan. He couldn’t recall anyone ever caring whether or not he smiled. Makenna Wray, or whatever her name was, had to be his mate. He placed his hands on the counter. “Bonnie Phillips.”

  “Another missing person?” Makenna rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you let this go?”

  Ryan’s eyes dropped to her lower lip—a lip he couldn’t stop thinking about marking again. “I want to know your name.”

  “I’m Makenna Wray, a loner who’s a gas station clerk and does volunteer work at a shelter. That’s who I am.”

  “It’s who you are now. But who were you before that?”

  “Your cell’s ringing.”

  It was, but he ignored it. “Are you afraid that if I find out who you’re hiding from, I’ll contact them?” Midsentence, his voice faded into an offended growl. He would never betray her.

  She cocked her head. “You know, if you’re not frowning, you’re growling, or both.”

  “And you’re avoiding my question. You do that a lot.” Ryan leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. His wolf fucking loved that. “Why won’t you tell me, Kenna?”

  The abbreviation of her name made her blink in surprise. “It’s Makenna. And we’ve talked about this, White Fang. You need to respect my boundaries.”

  “Maybe. But I won’t.” The wild glint in her eyes sparked for a second. It was most likely wrong that her anger made his cock throb. But all that wildness . . . it was something that spoke to his wolf, something that Ryan would bet made her just as wild in bed. He wanted to find out, wanted to be balls deep in her with her pulse beating between his teeth.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she hissed.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. I don’t have a lot of free time, so I don’t do relationships. But I don’t do the bed-buddy thing either; bed buddies tend to want exclusivity.” Something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes—a rare display of emotion that made her tense.

  “No one but me will touch you.” His tone was even but implacable.

  She cocked an impervious brow at him. “Oh? And why, pray tell, is that?”

  “For the same reason I asked you to be safe for me. You’re my mate, Makenna.”

  Her mind went blank for a moment. He was kidding, right? He had to be. Only . . . he didn’t look like he was. She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t think it, I know it. The facts are there.”

  “What facts?”

  “Since day one, all I’ve thought about is being balls deep in you. Your scent drives me insane. My wolf hates being apart from you. You’re an outsider, a loner, but I’d fucking kill to protect you. And I’d kill to possess you. I’m not a possessive person, Makenna. But I’d like to string Colton up by his intestines for touching you.”

  Not for a single second would Makenna have guessed that he’d been feeling that way. He was too damn good at hiding his emotions. Her wolf was uncharacteristically quiet. Surprised? Alarmed? Curious? Makenna couldn’t tell.

  Returning his honesty with her own, Makenna said, “I won’t say that the attraction is only one way. I admit, I don’t like it when females are mooning over you. And I don’t like the idea of you in danger. And my wolf . . . well, she feels the same way. But if we were mates, we’d know. We’d feel the pull of the mating bond.”

  “Not if the frequency is jammed by mental barriers or anxieties about mating.” Wanting—no, needing—to touch her, Ryan shackled her wrist, circling her madly beating pulse with his thumb. “What do you fear, Makenna? What about mating makes you afraid?”

  Her spine snapped straight. “Who says I’m afraid of mating?”

  “I’ve watched you. A lot. You’re not easy to read. Mostly because you don’t act or think normally.” Why she looked proud of that, he wasn’t sure. “You put a lot of time and effort into helping others. But you don’t let many into your life. You step into their life, but you don’t let them step into yours.”

  There was more truth in that than she was comfortable with.

  “Maybe it’s because you don’t want them to know your secrets. Maybe it’s because you once lost someone important to you.”

  Flushing, she tried to yank her hand away; he held it tight. “You can stop analyzing me now.”

  “Those sort of issues would jam a mating frequency.”

  “Did you ever consider—assuming we are mates—that maybe you’re jamming it, not me? You can’t tell me you don’t have issues of your own.”

  “I have issues. But I haven’t let them blind me to the truth.”

  As his eyes roamed over her face with a fierce possessiveness that made her stomach clench, she said, “You’re absolutely positive about this, aren’t you?”

  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I wasn’t.”

  “How long have you believed this?”

  “Since yesterday.”

  Well that explained the odd behavior he’d displayed. He’d probably felt as shocked as she was feeling right now. Honestly, Makenna had never imagined herself mating. Ryan was right; she didn’t know how to be open with people. A part of her had shut down after her mother died. For as long as she could remember, it had always been the two of them against the world—Fiona Wray had been everything to Makenna, her rock, her safe place.

  Then she’d died, and Makenna had been lost.

  So lost she’d sought sanctuary in her wolf form, desperate to escape the pain and grief. Her wolf, just as guttered, had turned half feral. When she was placed in the shelter by Social Services, Dawn and Madisyn brought her back from that state and forced her to grieve like a human. But even back in her human form, she’d remai
ned half feral for a while, a state that had amplified those feelings tormenting her.

  Dawn and Madisyn had offered her a shoulder to cry on, but Makenna hadn’t taken it. Hadn’t shared her grief with anyone. Instead, she’d turned inward, become her own rock. She didn’t rely on others for anything, and she liked it that way. A mate, however, would never accept that. As such, Ryan’s claim scared her.

  Still, that bone-deep loneliness inside her reached out to him, wanted it to be true. Being independent gave her strength and a sense of security and control, but it also made her feel very alone. She’d accepted that, though. She’d thought she could handle it. It wasn’t until this very moment that she realized she felt as incomplete as her wolf—maybe even more so.

  Still, Makenna didn’t know if she wanted to let anyone be her rock again. Ryan’s strength and air of self-possession drew her. It would be so very tempting to lean on him. But what if she tried that, what if she let herself hope, and it turned out that he was wrong? Makenna didn’t want to ever be that lost again.

  Her wolf wasn’t caught up in any of Makenna’s issues, too elemental in her way of thinking. The animal didn’t recognize him as her true mate, but she wasn’t fussed by that. She saw a strong, dominant, reliable, loyal male who would make an excellent partner and give her what she wanted, including a pack.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” said Ryan. “I’ve been very honest with you, Makenna.”

  She inhaled deeply. “I can see that you’re one hundred percent certain we’re mates, Ryan, but . . . I can’t say the same, I’m sorry.” The lonely part of her was sorry about that too.

  His wolf snarled at the rejection, but Ryan simply said, “Okay.” He released her wrist to cup her chin. “But can you say that you’re one hundred percent certain that we’re not mates?”

  She swallowed. “No.”

  He gave a short nod. “That’s enough for now.” She was open to the possibility on some level, and that was something Ryan could work with. It was also more than he’d hoped for. But he didn’t like the weird look that surfaced on her face. “What is it?”