The Wolf's Surrender

CHAPTER 2



Dex hadn’t been kidding, Jenner thought ruefully. She was a pretty little thing.

And if he kept noticing, it wasn’t going to do either one of them any good. He had a feral to catch, and Mia had a lot to adjust to in a short amount of time. He was going to make sure the latter was someone else’s problem, though. He had enough on his plate. Still, the way her hand had felt against his chest was going to haunt him. He hadn’t touched a woman in a long time. Too long, since it hadn’t taken much for him to start imagining that Mia’s fingertips had some kind of magic in them. It wasn’t just the attraction, either, which was going to be tough to ignore. He could have sworn, just for an instant, he’d heard music...

Shaking off the strange feeling, Jenner steered Mia toward his beat-up old pickup. One of his pack mates had left it for him on the side of the road heading back into town at his request. Walking home wasn’t going to be an option tonight.

And neither was carrying Mia, for entirely different reasons.

The others had peeled off one by one, eager to join the hunt for the night. Jenner couldn’t blame them. Hell, it was what he would be doing if the woman wasn’t the key to finding the feral. The thrill of the chase was one of the things he loved about his position in the pack. The Lunari always led the hunt, and often took the kill. As it was, he was stuck playing both babysitter and guard, at least for tonight. Until he knew more, Jenner wasn’t comfortable passing off the job to someone else. Wasn’t likely Mia’s erstwhile boyfriend would try and come back for her, despite her fears, but you never knew with that type. So he’d let her crash at his place, then tomorrow get her set up with one of the mated couples who had some space to spare.

He glanced over at her, at the long waves of chocolate brown hair that glinted in the dim light, the strong, classical profile that could have been printed on a Roman coin, and thought: Early tomorrow...the sooner the better. She wasn’t Angelina Jolie.

She was far more beautiful than that.

Mia, thankfully, seemed oblivious to the scrutiny. Her eyes were pointed determinedly forward, as though it were taking everything she had to get where she was going. Likely it was, he knew. Her strength would return in spades, but it wouldn’t be tonight. Still, she hadn’t complained, which he hated, or cried, which he hated even more. It spoke well of her character. Hopefully she’d make a good addition to the pack, once she accepted the way things were.

She was very lucky some of the pack had been out for a run. A few more minutes alone with her attacker and she would have been linked to a feral, cut off from anyone who could help her make a normal transition and possibly, probably, damaged beyond repair.

The thought of it, of that faceless psycho forcing himself on her, filled Jenner with a slow burning rage. He clenched his teeth. Yeah...he wished he was still out in the woods tonight.

“What’s wrong?”

Jenner turned his head and was instantly caught by a pair of large almond-shaped eyes, hazel with fascinating little flecks of green. Her arms were crossed over her chest, wrapping the jacket he’d given her to cover the tattered remnants of her shirt tightly around her, like armor. It surprised him how easily she had picked up on his tension. He’d always been very good at keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself—it was part of what made him effective at his job, and a tough werewolf to crack besides. But then, Mia was different. He’d sensed it from the first.

Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen. His instincts told him there was more to her story. But it was going to have to wait.

“Do I look like something’s wrong?” He tried to ask it lightly, and knew it had come out sounding surly anyway. She didn’t seem fazed by it, but at this point, it didn’t surprise him. Whatever else she was, Mia was a woman with some spine...though she might have been better off being a little more intimidated by him.

Well, he might have been better off, anyway.

“You look like you want to kill someone,” Mia said, weary eyes regarding him in the darkness. “But as long as it’s not me, I guess it’s fine. Carry on.”

Her sense of humor caught him by surprise, charming him. He didn’t want to be charmed. He set his jaw, determined to keep this as impersonal as possible.

“I was just thinking about next steps,” Jenner replied. And that was true enough. “This is my truck, here. Hop in.” He led her around, opened the passenger side door for her. Mia hesitated as she peered into the dim interior of the truck, which Jenner was relieved to find was pretty clean except for an empty soda can in the cup holder.

“I’m sorry, but...where are we going, again?” she asked, stifling a yawn mid-sentence. Her gaze was cloudy when she looked at him. Jenner didn’t expect her head to really clear until sometime tomorrow—the feral’s saliva had only been working on her for about an hour, and he’d seen with his own eyes that the initial effects of a werewolf bite could cause all manner of strange symptoms. In Mia’s case, it seemed like it was going to take her down into the inevitable deep sleep sooner rather than later.

That was likely better for them both.

“I’m going to take you someplace where you can get some rest for the night, remember? You’ve been through a lot. Some sleep will do you good.”

He kept his voice casual, reasonable, and that, coupled with Mia’s fatigue, was enough to get her in the truck with little more than a resigned sigh.

“I’m not going to wake up with fur, am I?” she asked when he’d gotten in, found the keys beneath the seat, and turned on the engine. Jenner chuckled at the expression on her face despite himself.

“No fur. Not even a headache. Trust me, when you make your first change you won’t sleep through it.”

“Oh, yay.”

He snorted at the way she wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. Pretty—yeah, she certainly was, and stubborn to boot if he’d been reading her right. The smile faded quickly when he thought of the choice Mia would have to make in the coming days.

There were only two ways to link into a pack. Being born to at least one parent of the blood...or a joining of a much more intimate nature. It was why there were such strict rules, why packs rarely saw newcomers who weren’t already part of a love match. The bite was only part of the equation. The bond, the connection with the pack mind, would only be complete after she’d joined with a Blackpaw in a physical sense, at least once.

He didn’t want to be the one to tell her. No doubt she’d be furious, and with good reason. But the alternative was one he didn’t think she’d find acceptable, to turn feral, to lose all sense of right and wrong, all humanity. Jenner was already sure she’d have her pick of the young, single males in the pack.

All but him. The only joining he would ever be a part of was the one he’d already gone through. That couldn’t have turned out a whole lot worse.

Jenner frowned. He didn’t want to think about Tess tonight.

“Oh, crap,” Mia muttered beside him.

“To which part of the night so far?” he asked.

“My stuff. I mean, I have stuff. At the hotel.” She shoved the heels of her palms against her eyes and growled her irritation. The noise had Jenner’s senses kicking into overdrive before he could think to try and block them, and in an instant he found himself breathing in air scented with light citrus, some sort of vanilla body wash, and beneath even that, clean, feminine skin. He could hear every breath. Every heartbeat.

Then it was his turn to feel like growling.

“You staying at the inn? Down the road in Greenview?” he asked instead, irritated all over again when he realized she’d had a room with the biter at a fancy, scenic, known-for-its-romance hotel, had no doubt planned on sharing a bed with the psycho...hell, maybe they were engaged, how did he know? And more important, why did he care?

“The Sylvan Inn, yes,” Mia said, taking her hands away from her face and blowing out a breath. “God, why can’t I think?”

“It’ll get better.”

Jenner could feel her eyes on him, trying to bore holes in his skin, but he kept his own on the road. He needed to get it together. Hadn’t he told himself a million times to keep life simple, to avoid complications? Because he had the distinct feeling that Mia D’Alessandro could be one huge complication if he let her be.

“Better when?”

“Tomorrow, probably.”

“Probably?” She managed to sound both sleepy and outraged at the same time. Jenner bit back a smirk. She was fighting the sleep hard...she should have gone down by now, but that stubborn streak he’d suspected seemed to be preventing it.

He couldn’t help but egg her on a little.

“Yeah. Tomorrow or the day after.”

Her tone was acid. “Wow. You’re a font of information, Nick.”

“It’s Jenner,” he said quickly, not liking the way it felt to hear his given name roll off her tongue that way. It was too familiar, reminded him too strongly of his old life, and his journey into this one. “Everyone calls me Jenner.”

“Jenner,” she repeated. “Like that big rat in the kids’ movie. Secret of NIMH.”

“Rat?” Jenner looked over at Mia, and immediately understood what the problem was. She was no longer just fighting sleep. Sleep was actively fighting her, and the two appeared to be locked in an epic battle for supremacy. It seemed pretty obvious sleep was gaining the upper hand.

Not a surprise, since after a werewolf bite it was less like sleep and more like falling down a black hole for a whole bunch of hours.

“Bad rat,” Mia said. “Got stabbed. Was a happy ending.” She yawned.

Jenner grimaced. “Stabbed. Great. You’re making my night, Mia. Thanks.” What kind of literary a*shole named an evil rat Jenner, anyway?

“I like Nick better,” she said, slurring her words. “Iss nice.” She yawned. “Nick the werewolf. Awoo.” Another chuckle.

This time, she sounded so young and exhausted that he didn’t have the heart to correct her. And he guessed he had to give her points for the little wolf howl she did at the end before falling silent. He drove on in silence, making the turn onto the heavily wooded road on the outskirts of the Hollow where he lived. It occurred to him all at once that he’d never brought a woman out here. Whenever he’d scratched that particular itch, a thing he did only infrequently because of complications he wanted to avoid, he’d done it elsewhere.

Well, it wasn’t like he was bringing her home to go to bed with, Jenner thought with a frown. And it wasn’t like she was staying long. And if she made him feel a little itchy that way, well...he could deal with it.

Mia sighed in the seat beside him, a breathy exhalation of pleasure that had his mind immediately racing for the gutter. He was pretty sure that after he got her carried into the house and tucked into bed, his mind was going to stay in that gutter for the night and roll around for a while.

He could handle it, Jenner thought, his jaw tightening. He could handle most anything.

But really, did their first feral victim in ages have to be quite so appealing?

The soft gasp beside him made him jump a little as he pulled into the long drive. The lights he’d left on glimmered through the trees ahead.

“What is it?” he asked. “Mia? You okay?”

“We forgot my stuff,” she slurred, her voice soft and getting softer with every word. “Di...did I tell you I was staying at...at the...”

“I’ll have someone get your things,” Jenner said, relieved. “No problem.” Bite complications were rare, but always a worry. This, though, was just Mia’s last stand against unconsciousness. He smiled a little. It was hard not to appreciate her effort, futile though it was. She’d lasted far longer than most. He pulled the truck up in front of the garage, put it in park, and killed the engine.

“We’re here, Mia. Time to go to bed.”

“Um. Mmm. It was...inna room...blue room...” She trailed off, and when Jenner looked over at her she was sound asleep, mouth slightly open, head tipped back. His smile faded as he looked at her, finally letting his eyes wander over her sleeping form. Small, slim-waisted but with curves in all the right places. Naturally, since he was a sucker for an hourglass figure. And that face...she really did look like a Roman goddess. Not Venus, though. More like Diana. Goddess of the hunt...and of the moon.

Pretty little thing, Jenner thought grimly, remembering Dex’s words. Hell with that. Mia was beautiful.

And if he didn’t want his life screwed up all over again, he was going to have to be very, very careful.

“Just for tonight,” he told her, though her only response was the deep breathing common to those soundly asleep. Jenner just shook his head, then got out of the truck and headed around to the other side to get his passed-out charge. The only sounds in the night were the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, the distant call of an owl. And, as he gathered Mia into his arms, the uneven beat of his own stupid heart.

* * *

Mia awoke, mouth watering, to the tantalizing scents of coffee and bacon. She could hear the sizzle and pop of the bacon in the frying pan, could almost taste the decadently rich coffee on her tongue.

Kona, she thought dreamily, drifting in the peaceful place between waking and sleep. Who bought the Kona? It’s my favorite...

Reality intruded far too quickly, and all at once. Mia’s eyes fluttered open as memories of the night before returned with a vengeance, each horrible image cascading into the next. Her heart quickened, the impulse to throw off the covers and run somewhere, anywhere, almost overpowering.

Almost.

Mia closed her eyes again and forced herself to think, to remember the rest. The rescuers in the woods. The ride in the truck with Nick Jenner, foggy though that last bit was. Jeff was gone, Mia told herself firmly. She was safe. She was being protected now.

A pair of big, golden eyes surfaced in her memory, and a husky growl of a voice. I can make him pay. You have to trust me.

In the company of werewolves. What a comfort. Especially since, along with her myriad of other problems, she was now on her way to becoming one. Or something like one. What exactly did you get when you crossed a werewolf with her sort of blood? Somehow, she didn’t think that would be a great conversation starter here.

With a strangled groan, Mia opened her eyes, sat up, and slowly pushed the covers back, blinking rapidly as she realized her contacts were dried out and stuck to her eyes.

Crap. An attempted run of her fingers through her hair indicated that it, too, was showing the effects of a rough night. Snarl city. She exhaled loudly and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, dangling them above the floor for a few moments as she got her bearings. Gooseflesh prickled over her exposed skin. Mia looked resignedly down at her bra, a lacy black number that seemed ridiculously out of place this morning. Her tattered, bloodied shirt had been removed, a gesture that left her torn between gratefulness and embarrassment. At least her jeans were still on, slightly dirt-stained though they were. Her feet were bare.

The thought of big, handsome Nick Jenner removing her socks and shoes and tucking her into bed made her flush...and wish she’d been just a little bit awake for it. Quickly, she pushed the thought from her mind. She had more pressing things to worry about now. And after last night, another man who could sprout fangs was the last thing she needed. She took full responsibility for Jeff. She should have known better. She’d always gone for the damaged ones, the ones who might just need her enough not to push her away if they ever discovered what she was. Mia was old enough to know that secrecy didn’t have to mean shame, but the feeling that she was somehow wrong had lingered...and her choice of men had borne that out over the years.

But even by her standards, Jeff had been needy. Charming, yes, but unmistakably broken in some way she couldn’t begin to touch.

The thought of him brought a mix of emotions to the surface: fury, betrayal, even shame that she hadn’t seen him for the predator he was. And underlying it all, sadness. Maybe one of these days she’d learn that fixing emotionally wounded men—or trying—wasn’t going to fix her own problems.

At least he’d tried to kill her before she could sleep with him. Small favors. And now she was here with Jenner, who didn’t seem like the kind of guy who needed anyone, least of all her. Not her type.

Yeah, she’d just keep telling herself that...

Mia slid off the edge of the simple iron bed and wiggled her toes into the plush area rug that covered much of the wood floor of the small bedroom. Her eyes wandered a room lit by muted daylight, which was filtering in through a window hung with sheer curtains in a shade of deep cream. A single, low dresser sat opposite her against the wall, an old-fashioned basin and pitcher resting on top of it. A small nightstand sat beside the bed, and the little clock on it put the hour at a little past 9:00 a.m. The walls of warm, honey-colored wood left no doubt she was in a log home, and on them someone (Jenner, she assumed) had hung a couple of photographs, gorgeous shots that had been blown up, matted and framed. They showed a forest, probably this forest, in full autumnal glory.

As she looked around, Mia’s eyes lit on the weekend travel bag placed neatly on the floor beside the dresser. Her bag. Tears pricked her eyes as reality began to fully penetrate the protective cocoon she’d been wrapped in since last night. This was really happening.

She’d done exactly what had always been expected of her: the worst.

“You’ve the dark blood in you,” Grandmother Ada’s voice whispered in her mind, the rasp so familiar, so real that Mia shivered. “I knew it the instant you were born. Tainted. I warned your mother what your father was, but she wouldn’t listen, and look where it got them. My family’s light snuffed out, your parents’ lives lost, and only you to show for it. A little girl who’ll draw the shadows like flies to honey. They’ll break you, Mia, once I’m gone. And then you’ll break everything.”

Mia closed her eyes against the tears and forced that awful voice back into the dark corner of her mind where it belonged. She was determined not to lose it now. If she was going to be dealing with a pack of werewolves today, at least she could do it without looking like an extra from Night of the Living Dead. At least Jeff was something the werewolves seemed to know how to hunt. The shadows in her grandmother’s warnings, always feared but never seen, were her problem. She’d just make sure to get out of here before they became anyone else’s.

“I’ve managed so far,” Mia told herself in a bare whisper. “I can handle this. After last night, I can handle anything. No matter how weak anyone thinks I am.”

And as she dug into her weekend bag, she almost believed it.