he chose.
It was impossible not to worry about what might be happening to her Pack. Leif was a crazy son-of-a-bitch. Worse, he was vindictive. He’d decided that he was going to be the werewolf who took down Odin, and he was just crazy enough to not worry about what that meant for their Pack. Like it or not, Pack was family now and she valued the connection. Sure, some of the members were the kind you didn’t want to meet up with at Thanksgiving dinner—Ake and Leif came to mind—but there were others. Wolves like Even and the Pack’s few female wolves who’d welcomed her and tried to ease her transition.
It wasn’t the life she’d have picked, but there was no bitching against Fate. From the minute she’d been bitten, her life had done a 180. And there had been good moments to go with the bad. She’d spent more than one sunset curled up by the fire with the girl wolves, welcoming the night and the shift with marshmallows, laughter, and gossip.
Since she couldn’t fix the Pack at the moment, she snuggled back against Calder. He was gloriously warm, making riding with him like having her own portable heater. And he gave good presents. Her beautiful new clothes were a guilty pleasure she had every intention of enjoying.
He was a well-trained killer. He hadn’t survived night after night in the pits without cutting down his opponents ruthlessly. And yet he’d been nice to her. So if he wanted her to be afraid of him, he’d have to try harder.
The cabin seemed to rise up out of nowhere. Perched on the rocky shore of an ice-studded fjord, the wood-sided chalet had a steep roof to shed the snow. White latticed windows looked out over the water. Tyra could easily imagine sitting on the front porch and watching the world go by.
Pulling up in front of the cabin, he killed the motor and let the snowmobile coast to a slow halt. When she tried to hop off, however, he slid an arm around her waist, pinning her in place.
“Okay,” he growled.
God. What was it with Calder and gruff, one word answers? She fought back an urge to elbow him. Pissing off her ride was a bad idea. It was a long walk back to the Vikings’ keep and even further to her own snowmobile. But…okay, they were here? Okay, what?
Clearly satisfied with their non-conversation, however, he swung off the snowmobile, answering that part of her question. He must have meant okay we’re here because he just stood there waiting for her. Calder was good at that. He waited with the patience of a predator stalking his prey. She’d seen him fight the day the Vikings had busted out of the pit’s holding cells. He’d had that same watchful gaze before he’d exploded into lethal motion.
“It’s okay to use more than word at a time.” She pushed off the snowmobile and crunched over the snow toward the cabin. Tilting her head back, she studied the building. It didn’t scream evil dungeon or dump the werewolf’s body here . It also didn’t seem like a love nest or decadent pied-à-terre . In fact, it looked very much like the kind of place she would have chosen for herself. It was the kind of place you went to be alone and catch your breath, but with a side of comfort. If— when —she got her Pack back, that was one change she planned on making. No more roughing it in dirty campsites.
She looked back at Calder. He hadn’t moved. “Yours?”
“Yes.” Again with the one word answers. She had a feeling, though, that he wasn’t talking about just the hunting cabin. She’d have to do something about that note of possession in his voice. She was a loaner, not a keeper. Playing erotic games with Calder was no hardship, but she was no submissive. Calder, on the other hand, was the kind of man who would insist on being in charge.
“Remind me again,” he rumbled. “Why are you here?”
“I need to hire a fighter.” She’d told him that.
“You said you would pay any price.”
“No. I said I would pay your price.” There was definitely a
It was impossible not to worry about what might be happening to her Pack. Leif was a crazy son-of-a-bitch. Worse, he was vindictive. He’d decided that he was going to be the werewolf who took down Odin, and he was just crazy enough to not worry about what that meant for their Pack. Like it or not, Pack was family now and she valued the connection. Sure, some of the members were the kind you didn’t want to meet up with at Thanksgiving dinner—Ake and Leif came to mind—but there were others. Wolves like Even and the Pack’s few female wolves who’d welcomed her and tried to ease her transition.
It wasn’t the life she’d have picked, but there was no bitching against Fate. From the minute she’d been bitten, her life had done a 180. And there had been good moments to go with the bad. She’d spent more than one sunset curled up by the fire with the girl wolves, welcoming the night and the shift with marshmallows, laughter, and gossip.
Since she couldn’t fix the Pack at the moment, she snuggled back against Calder. He was gloriously warm, making riding with him like having her own portable heater. And he gave good presents. Her beautiful new clothes were a guilty pleasure she had every intention of enjoying.
He was a well-trained killer. He hadn’t survived night after night in the pits without cutting down his opponents ruthlessly. And yet he’d been nice to her. So if he wanted her to be afraid of him, he’d have to try harder.
The cabin seemed to rise up out of nowhere. Perched on the rocky shore of an ice-studded fjord, the wood-sided chalet had a steep roof to shed the snow. White latticed windows looked out over the water. Tyra could easily imagine sitting on the front porch and watching the world go by.
Pulling up in front of the cabin, he killed the motor and let the snowmobile coast to a slow halt. When she tried to hop off, however, he slid an arm around her waist, pinning her in place.
“Okay,” he growled.
God. What was it with Calder and gruff, one word answers? She fought back an urge to elbow him. Pissing off her ride was a bad idea. It was a long walk back to the Vikings’ keep and even further to her own snowmobile. But…okay, they were here? Okay, what?
Clearly satisfied with their non-conversation, however, he swung off the snowmobile, answering that part of her question. He must have meant okay we’re here because he just stood there waiting for her. Calder was good at that. He waited with the patience of a predator stalking his prey. She’d seen him fight the day the Vikings had busted out of the pit’s holding cells. He’d had that same watchful gaze before he’d exploded into lethal motion.
“It’s okay to use more than word at a time.” She pushed off the snowmobile and crunched over the snow toward the cabin. Tilting her head back, she studied the building. It didn’t scream evil dungeon or dump the werewolf’s body here . It also didn’t seem like a love nest or decadent pied-à-terre . In fact, it looked very much like the kind of place she would have chosen for herself. It was the kind of place you went to be alone and catch your breath, but with a side of comfort. If— when —she got her Pack back, that was one change she planned on making. No more roughing it in dirty campsites.
She looked back at Calder. He hadn’t moved. “Yours?”
“Yes.” Again with the one word answers. She had a feeling, though, that he wasn’t talking about just the hunting cabin. She’d have to do something about that note of possession in his voice. She was a loaner, not a keeper. Playing erotic games with Calder was no hardship, but she was no submissive. Calder, on the other hand, was the kind of man who would insist on being in charge.
“Remind me again,” he rumbled. “Why are you here?”
“I need to hire a fighter.” She’d told him that.
“You said you would pay any price.”
“No. I said I would pay your price.” There was definitely a
Similar Books
