Wolver's Reward by Jacqueline Rhoades Page A

The gown was
made for her and fit her perfectly. Her skin looked smooth and
creamy and her mother's deft hand with makeup had prevented it from
looking washed out. Faint blush colored her cheeks and mascara
darkened her lashes. Her eye lids shimmered with pale color that
looked natural with her pale skin. Her lips were soft and plumply
pink and her pale, almost white blonde hair framed her face in a
fall of shiny silk. A wreath of flowers in the same muted pastels
as adorned her face, circled her head like a crown.
    At the sight of her, the Alpha's eyes misted
over. "You're as beautiful as your mother was on the day we mated.
I never thought to see something so beautiful as that again. Be
happy, my beautiful girl."
    "I will, Father. I am."
    And then Reb was finally left alone with her
thoughts and those thoughts didn't include her happiness at
becoming an Alpha's Mate. She'd faked her smiles and her
reassurances. Her mother had taught her how to mask her feelings
and the woman had taught her well. Neither of her parents suspected
what she was hiding inside. She was terrified. She didn't want to
be the mate of a stranger who had no idea who she was. She didn't
want to be a Mate and lose herself under the mantle of an Alpha.
And yet, her mother was right. There was no choice. In her one last
act of rebellion as an Alpha's daughter, her one last statement of
who she was, Reb changed her snowy white slippers for the orange
sneakers on the floor by the bed.
     
    ~*~
     
    "Fuck."
    River leapt to his feet. Five minutes had
turned into two hours. He'd fallen asleep, not just asleep, but
sound asleep. Sight, smell, and hearing had been cut off
completely. A herd of deer could have pranced right over him and he
wouldn't have known. He struck the tree trunk with the flat of his
hand as if it were the culprit.
    Two hours! That alone was proof of how soft
he'd become living with the Wolf's Head Pack where everyone slept
in soft, comfy beds in heated rooms and never had to worry about
the things that could hurt them or kill them in their sleep.
    For the first year he was with them, he'd
been afraid of those beds. He'd spent his nights sitting upright in
a chair, dozing, but never sleeping soundly. He would have
preferred the floor as the cubs did at first, but he was afraid the
Alpha would banish him from the room completely. It took months
before he was comfortable with the girls sleeping in a separate
room and even though he told himself they were safe, he had to
check on them three or four times during the night just to be
sure.
    Sound sleep was dangerous. He'd learned that
as a pup when kicks or blows would follow his name if he didn't
immediately answer. Later, he'd learned that names were irrelevant
as long as someone answered the call. He'd taken on the
responsibility to answer most as a way of protecting the pups below
him. He was faster, stronger, and more able to tolerate the abuse
sometimes administered by the adult wolvers in the name of
training. Only the strong survived. River had known pups that
didn't. Pups were a burden the pack didn't need.
    Wolf's Head was different. There, pups were
cherished. Cubs were brought up with strict, but gentle discipline.
They were valued members of the pack. As much as River appreciated
the lack of abuse, a part of him could never let go of the idea
that their methods also made for weak wolvers.
    He'd allowed himself to become weak and
failure was the result. He still had another twenty-five miles to
go. He would then have to find them, and need even more time to
scout them out. There was no way he could make it all happen by
moonrise and he had to be there and ready when the thieves went
over the moon.
    Brain fogged by the blows it had suffered, it
had taken him a while to put it together. Why was such a small band
of wolvers venturing so far from home? They weren't rogues. They
weren't vicious enough. He'd seen enough newly made rogues to know
that.
    Vacationers? Sure, some wolvers