Rogue Alpha: Wolf Shifter Romance (Wild Lake Wolves Book 1) by Kimber White Page A

again. I was alone in the woods, far
from anyplace I knew, with a virtual stranger. I should have been terrified,
and I was. But somehow, I trusted Mal to keep me safe. That said, I wasn’t an
idiot. I unbuckled my seatbelt and crawled over the seat to get to the back of
the Jeep.
    Flood kept supplies under a tarp behind the
passenger seats. I lifted the corner and felt along the floor. The moon
provided a little natural light, and I was afraid to switch on the interior
lights. I found a flashlight, a canteen. I stuffed that into my backpack and
kept looking. My fingers closed around the cold metal barrel of his 12 gauge
shotgun. The one he’d used to shoot at the black wolf the other day.
    “Gotcha!” I whispered. I pulled the gun over the
seat and laid it flat. I felt around on the floor. He had a small box of ammo. Twelve
rounds. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need any of it, but there was no point in leaving
it behind. I shoved that in my backpack, grabbed the shotgun, and crawled back
over into front passenger seat to wait for Mal.
    He came through the thick of the trees. The
moonlight caught his eyes, making them glow a familiar gold that sent a ripple
of fear and recognition through me. I shook it off. My eyes were playing tricks
on me. It had been a rough hour and a half.
    “Come on,” he said, coming around to the passenger
side he opened my door. He gave me no more than a slight eyebrow raise when he
saw the shotgun in my hand. “We need to get inside. You sure you can handle
that thing without shooting yourself in the foot?”
    I slung it over my shoulder. “I’m sure. You got a
problem with me taking it?”
    Mal shrugged and shook his head. “No ma’am. As long
as it doesn’t slow you down.”
    With that, he turned and headed into the thick of
the trees. He didn’t order me to follow him. I could have turned around and
gotten back in the Jeep. Maybe that was the wisest choice. And yet, as Mal’s
silhouette in the moonlight got farther away, my heart raced. A different kind
of panic rose in me as the distance between us widened. Before I could even
process the thought, I took a hesitant step toward him. Then another. I left
the Jeep and everything familiar to me as I followed Mal Devane deeper into the
woods.

 
    Chapter Eight
    We walked for almost an hour. The forest grew thick
around us. No trails marked the way, but Mal knew exactly where he was going. I
had to practically run to keep up with him with his long, powerful strides. He
looked back to make sure I was there but otherwise didn’t stop. It seemed like
a test. Could I handle myself with him? God. None of it made sense. I’d been
operating on nothing but base instinct since Byron Flood attacked me. And
though I couldn’t explain it, it mattered that Mal knew I could handle
myself.
    Finally, we made it to another clearing. At the
center, another log cabin much like those back at the G.L.U. outpost, but I’d
never seen this one before. We were still in Manistee Forest, but as far as I
knew, this place wasn’t charted on any of the maps.
    “It’s mine,” Mal said though I hadn’t voiced my
question. “Or at least, it is now. We should be safe enough for the night. The
pack’s lost the scent by now. They’ll retreat until morning.”
    Mal opened the door of the cabin and walked inside.
I followed. He shut it and latched it behind us, leaving us in total darkness.
Blind, I could somehow still sense Mal as he moved deeper into the room. He
fumbled with something then a propane lantern flared to life, casting ghostly
shadows across his face.
    The cabin was simple. One rectangular room with a
bed and blankets on one side, a fireplace in the center, and a kitchen on the
other side with a coal burning stove and a sink.
    “Running water from a well out back,” Mal said.
“Sorry, that’s the most luxurious thing I’ve got out here.”
    “Thank you,” I said, and the room got quiet. He knew
I wasn’t talking about the cabin’s