Wulfe Untamed (6 page)

Wulfe led her into the house, into a huge room with the biggest, most ornate dining table she’d ever seen. A pair of crystal chandeliers hung above the table, casting light on walls covered in blue-and-gold wallpaper.

Somewhere nearby, a peel of high-pitched laughter was answered by a laugh she recognized instantly.

“
Xavier.
” Her body tensed, her heart jolting, as her gaze flew to Wulfe. “
Is he here?
”

A funny look crossed the big man’s face, a hint of a smile. “X!”

“Coming!” Xavier called back.

Natalie swayed, and Wulfe pulled her against his side, his arm around her shoulders. Her heart began to pound, tears burning her eyes. As the far door swung open, and her youngest brother pushed through, a cane in his hand, a smile on his beloved face, joy burst inside of her, powering her feet.

“Xavier,” she breathed, pulling away from Wulfe to rush toward him.

“Nat?” Xavier’s smile erupted into a full-out grin and he stopped, opening his arms for her.

Tears running down her cheeks, Natalie closed the distance between them and hugged her brother, who stood only a couple of inches taller than she, euphoric at the feel of his arms around her, at the sound of his heart beating against her own.
Alive.

The events of the past hours ripped away the last shred of her control, and she began to sob as she held him, as she shook and rejoiced and thanked the heavens over and over and over again for giving him back to her.

Xavier patted her back. “Nat, are you okay? You smell like blood. What happened?”

“I’m fine. I’m just so . . . glad to see you.”

Finally, she pulled herself together and let go of him, stepping back enough to examine his face. Someone pressed a couple of tissues into her hand, and she used them to mop up her tears and blow her nose.

“What happened, Sis? What are you doing here?”

She felt a large hand settle on her shoulder and knew, without looking, that it belonged to Wulfe. The feel of him beside her helped settle her.

“The Mage found her again, X, but I was there. I took care of them, and they didn’t hurt her. She got a little bloody trying to staunch my wounds. She’s going to stay here for a while.”

“Wow. You’re okay, Wulfe?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Not cool that the Mage found you, Nat,” Xavier said. “But cool that you’re back. I’ve missed you.”

Natalie laughed, the sound watery. “Oh, Xavier, how I’ve missed you, too.”

“How’s Mom?”

She grimaced, unsure how to answer that. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her brother. But sometimes, only the truth would do.

“She’s grieving.”

His face fell. “She thinks I’m dead.”

Natalie met Wulfe’s gaze, holding on to the soft understanding she saw there. “Mom clings to the hope that you’re alive, but the cops . . .” She shook her head. “I’m afraid no one else thinks you survived.”

“I guess it’s better that way. No one’s looking for me.”

“Everyone’s looking for you. They’ve scoured the Harpers Ferry area over and over again. But they’re past the point of believing they’ll find you alive.”

“This has to be killing Mom.”

Natalie gripped his hand. “It’s been hard on her. You know how much she loves you. But she’s tough, Xavier. She’ll be okay.”

Sorrow cast a sheen in his eyes, and he squeezed her hand in return. “As long as you don’t disappear, too.”

The truth of his words cut deep. “I won’t.” Her gaze found Wulfe’s again. “I have to believe I’ll get home again.”

Wulfe nodded. “I’ll make it happen.”

And she believed he would if the power lay in his hands.

Wulfe clasped Xavier’s shoulder. “Lyon’s waiting for us in his office, X. You two can talk more later.”

Natalie hugged her brother again, drinking in the feel of his wiry body, and the sheer miracle of his survival before forcing herself to pull away. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Nat, for however long you stay. You have to meet Pink. She’s half-flamingo, but she can’t shift like the others can, she’s stuck that way. But she’s awesome.” Xavier frowned. “You’ll like it here, Nat. But do whatever they say. They’re the good guys, just do whatever they say.”

“I will.” But the gravity of his words sent a chill down her spine.
They’re the good guys, but . . .
She wasn’t safe here. Not entirely.

She squeezed Xavier’s hand, then turned back to Wulfe, surprised by the softness in his eyes as he watched her.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

His fingers curled lightly around her upper arm as he led her through the dining room and into the hall. His touch, his presence, steadied her. Strengthened her. Despite Xavier’s warning, she felt safe with Wulfe as she had from the moment she’d met him in his animal form, though she probably shouldn’t. In so many ways, he was a total stranger. And yet . . . he wasn’t. In his eyes, she recognized the same spirit, the same sweet yet fierce soul who’d pressed his wolf’s head against her thigh, then taken knife wound after knife wound to defend her. The man’s face was still new to her—the scars disturbing, mostly because they spoke of great suffering. But beneath those scars was a strong face, a handsome one. And his body, which she’d seen more of than she had any right to, was nothing short of breathtaking. His scent invaded her air, a warm, masculine aroma that wove a spell over her, easing the tension from her muscles even as it quickened her pulse.

Everything about him called to her on the most primitive level, leaving her feeling secure but not calm. No, not calm. His half-naked closeness excited every molecule in her body.

As he ushered her down the hallway, his thumb began to rub her upper arm gently. “You’re still shaking,” he said quietly.

She laughed, a single burst of air. “I’m still reeling from all that’s happened, but I’m fine, Wulfe. More than fine.” She turned and met his gaze, the joy barreling up and out of her in a grin that split her face. “My brother’s alive.” Tears pooled in her eyes all over again, but she blinked them back, watching as an answering smile lit Wulfe’s eyes, igniting a sparkle within those dark depths that set up a warm, lively dance in her chest. His scarred mouth twitched, then widened, his crooked smile nothing short of stunning. Her pulse took off in a crazy flight.

“That went down just as I had hoped it would,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?”

If possible, his eyes softened even further. “You’ve been sad. Seeing X made you happy.”

As gratitude and affection surged up inside of her, Natalie rose up and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Very. Thank you.”

To her dismay, Wulfe jerked back, the light dying from his eyes. “You’re welcome.” But his tone turned flat, and he released her arm and turned away, continuing down the hall.

Natalie hurried to keep pace with him, wondering, unhappily, if she’d breached some kind of werewolf . . . shifter . . . etiquette. The last thing she wanted to do was displease the man who’d been nothing but wonderful to her. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the meeting ahead and whatever followed, because it was obvious she didn’t understand this world. Or, for that matter, the people in it.

She was in over her head, that was all too clear.

And she might have just alienated the only one standing by her side.

Chapter Six

S
he’d kissed him.

Wulfe led Natalie through Feral House to Lyon’s office, feeling knocked on his ass.

She’d kissed him.

Just his cheek, of course. But she’d touched his scars.
With her lips.
A thing Beatrice would have never done.

Goddess, this woman was turning him inside out. Watching her with her brother had ripped his heart out. Hearing her sobs, even if they’d been of joy and not sorrow, had utterly slain him.

Then she’d kissed him.

His hand itched to reach for hers again. His arm tensed with the need to curl around her shoulders and pull her close, but he wouldn’t do that. Not when she was steady on her feet again and no longer needed him. She might have kissed him, but he knew a peck of gratitude when he felt it. If he tried to draw her close for no reason other than that he couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than holding her close, she’d probably stiffen, then pull away. Nicely, of course. He didn’t think Natalie knew how to do anything except nicely. But they’d both be left feeling intensely uncomfortable, and he didn’t want that.

As they strode through the foyer, side by side, Natalie’s soft scent wafted to his sensitive nose and he drank it in, feeling it slide through him, warming him, settling into his blood, his chest, calming him. Her scent reminded him of wild roses beneath a summer sun—at once lovely, warm, and tenacious. Being near her was like walking into an errant shaft of sunlight on a cold, overcast day. Or like stepping into cool shade in the middle of a summer scorcher. It made him sigh, deep inside. It made him feel good all the way to his soul. His wolf agreed, giving a low bark of satisfaction.

As they neared Lyon’s office, Natalie gasped, her hand flying to her cheek.

“What’s the matter?” Wulfe asked.

She shook her head, then slowly relaxed again. “It’s nothing.”

He peered at her doubtfully, but she seemed to be okay, so he turned forward and opened the door to Lyon’s office. He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of Lyon’s desk, and she did, moving with that innate grace of hers to settle onto the chair, her back straight, her hands in her lap, her expression calm and alert, as always, despite the fact that he knew she was still shaking.

His instincts told him to stand behind her, to protect her back, even though he knew Lyon would never make a move against her without discussing it with Wulfe first. Lyon didn’t work that way. The Chief of the Ferals was ruthless only when he had no choice, and, in all things, utterly fair. But before Wulfe could take his place behind Natalie, the healer, Esmeria, headed him off, gliding forward to meet him with a sound of sympathetic dismay. Wulfe stood still, just inside the door, as the Therian healer pressed her hand to the wound on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and slowly stole the pain.

As he submitted to Esmeria’s ministrations, Wulfe’s gaze moved to Lyon where he sat behind the large desk that dominated the room. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the walls except for the space occupied by the hearth, where Paenther stood. Tighe propped one hip on the corner of Lyon’s desk and waited.

Lyon rose and held out his hand to Natalie. “I’m Lyon, Natalie. Chief of the Ferals. We met weeks ago though you don’t remember.”

Natalie shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you . . . again.”

Paenther stepped forward, his black hair swinging forward to partly obscure the feral marks across his eye. “I’m Paenther, the black panther shifter and Lyon’s second-in-command.”

She nodded, shook his hand, and settled back onto her chair, her posture slightly less tense than before. Humans generally responded well to shows of respect and friendliness, and Wulfe appreciated Lyon and Paenther taking the time to show her both.

Lyon’s gaze turned to Wulfe. “What happened?”

Esmeria moved behind him, and Wulfe stepped forward, allowing her access to the wounds on his back. “Ten Mage sentinels kicked in Natalie’s front door. Inir had ordered them to bring us . . . both of us . . . to him alive.”

“Why?” Paenther asked with a frown.

“How did Inir know you were there?” Lyon asked at the same time.

“I don’t know. On Inir’s mountain last week, Satanan sensed me. I’m wondering if he always knows where I am, now.”

Lyon frowned. “So they waited until you were far from Feral House before trying to take you. Why Natalie?”

“No idea.”

“Did you kill them?”

“The ten who breached the house. Unfortunately, the front door was kicked in and there was no fixing it before we left. We need to send a cleanup crew before the humans find it.”

“I know where the house is,” Tighe said. “I’ll go.”

Lyon nodded. As Tighe rose to leave, Lyon turned to Wulfe. “More sentinels came after you later.”

“They followed us into the woods, more than two dozen of them. Either the first group jumped the gun and attacked us without waiting for their backup, or the Mage are stationed close enough to Frederick that Inir was able to send reinforcements quickly. Within about an hour.”

“They knew you’d go back there.” Lyon sighed. “Until we know why they want you both, Natalie stays here.”

“I agree.”

Lyon turned to Natalie. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to lock you up.”

Natalie jerked.

Wulfe’s muscles bunched, a hard
no
burning in his throat. Deep inside, his wolf leaped up, snarling. “You can’t put her in the prisons, Roar. Not again. Not when we’ve got men down there that we’re not sure about.”

“Wulfe . . .”

He slammed his fist on Lyon’s desk. “She doesn’t deserve the prison again!”

“She was never down there because she deserved it.” Lyon sank back onto his chair wearily. “If she gets away from you and shares what she’s seen with other humans, the result could be catastrophic, especially with the human cops already stumped by the deaths and disappearances of her companions last month. You know that. I can’t risk it.”

Dammit. He knew Lyon was right. Still . . . what if . . . ? “She doesn’t have to be locked up in the prisons.” Enthusiasm quickened Wulfe’s speech. “Natalie can stay in the bedroom between yours and mine. I’ll put locks on the windows and on the outside of the door. She’ll be comfortable. And if she needs anything, I’ll hear her.”

“I thought we had Guards staying in that room.”

“They can sleep on pallets in the living room with the rest of them.”

For several moments, Lyon met his gaze, silently considering Wulfe’s words. After six hundred years of working together, Wulfe knew his chief well.

With a sigh, Lyon ran his hand across the back of his neck. “She’s your responsibility. I want you, another Feral, or one of the stronger women with her any time she’s out of that room, no exceptions. And I don’t want her anywhere near electronic devices—computers, phones, etc.”

The coiled tension in Wulfe’s body eased. “Thank you.”

Lyon turned a hard, uncompromising gaze on Natalie. “You must understand, we don’t kill humans without cause, but we
will
destroy anyone who threatens the anonymity of the immortal races. When we first realized that Xavier was blind, and his memories of us couldn’t be stolen, I wanted him put to death.”

Natalie stiffened, and it was all Wulfe could do not to put his hand on her shoulder and promise her he’d protect them both, now.

Lyon folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “You
know
what would happen if the press, human law enforcement, or the military found out about us. At best, we’d be run out. More likely, we’d be attacked with weapons that can destroy even immortals. And if we die, the Daemons rise. It’s as simple as that. And then it’s game over for both of our races. Until we can figure out what was done to you, reverse it, then steal your memories of all you’ve seen, we can’t send you home, and we can’t let you escape. The risk is too great.”

“And if you can’t figure it out?” Natalie asked, her voice even and professional, despite everything. “Or you can’t reverse it?”

“Let’s take it one step at a time. But you must understand that if you betray us in any way . . .”

“If I betray you, you’ll kill me. I understand.”

Wulfe’s muscles bunched, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

Lyon glanced his way but didn’t deny it. “We’ll have no choice. What’s more,” he said, turning back to Natalie. “If we’re forced to take your life, we’ll instantly lose your brother’s loyalty, and we’ll no longer be able to trust him either. So both of your lives are in your hands.”

Natalie was silent for a moment before finally nodding. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good.”

Esmeria circled Wulfe one more time, eyeing him critically. “Did I get them all?”

Wulfe nodded. “Thank you, Esmeria.” He opened the door for her, then closed it again after she left.

“Go,” Lyon said, glancing from Wulfe to Natalie and back again. “Get the locks installed on that bedroom and get some sleep. Both of you.”

Natalie rose from her chair and faced the Chief of the Feral Warriors. “Thank you for sparing Xavier’s life, Lyon. Thank you for sparing both of ours. I won’t betray you.” She held out her hand to seal their bargain.

Lyon eyed her thoughtfully as he shook her hand. “Your brother is a good person, Natalie. The better I get to know him, the more certain of that I become. It would seem the trait runs in the family.”

“Thank you.”

As Wulfe ushered Natalie out of Lyon’s office, he glanced back and met his chief’s gaze, reading the unspoken warning clear in Lyon’s eyes.
Don’t fuck this up
. If he did, if Natalie found a way to escape with her brother in tow—because he knew she’d never leave without him—all their lives might be over. He wasn’t going to let that happen.