Hungry Like a Wolf noto-8 Read online

  “The White Paw pay fealty to the Silverback. It’s his job to care.”

  “That’s bullshit. Even if it’s true, it’s bullshit. It’s his job to make sure my pack doesn’t pick a fight with his, reveal ourselves to the local human population, or otherwise compromise the safety of the larger Lupine community. Anything more than that is just someone with too much time on his hands and an overgrown side of busybody.” Honor’s gaze searched his expression for a minute, then rolled her eyes. “And even if you agreed with me, you’re too loyal to say so. Right. Well, I just don’t need this crap. Not now. Not here. Not a fucking chance.”

  Logan shrugged. “You’ve got it anyway. Now what are you going to do about it?”

  She slammed her feet into battered hiking boots with a snarled curse. “Right now, I’m going back to the house to change, and then I’m going back to work. Some of us have real jobs where we have to be constructive and accomplish things.”

  He suppressed a smile at that dig. She was cute when she was mad.

  And she’d probably rip his intestines out through his nostrils if he mentioned that fact.

  “Gotcha. I think I’m going to go get a shirt at least, and then maybe take a look around. See if I can meet some of the pack. You know, basically stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong. See you at dinner?”

  Logan watched her stalk off back toward the house and grinned a wolfish grin. He hadn’t come here expecting to find his mate, but damned if it didn’t appear that was exactly what he’d done. He wondered what she’d say when he informed her they’d be getting married and having cubs together. If he knew her at all, he guessed what she’d say didn’t bear repeating. But what the hell? Logan Hunter loved a challenge. And this one looked to be a doozy.

  * * *

  By the time Logan gathered and donned what was left of his clothes—namely his blue jeans, his boots, and one sock—and made his way back to the main house, Honor was long gone. He hadn’t really expected anything different, but some days, he just couldn’t quell that involuntary burst of optimism.

  He jogged up to his room, which he’d learned was across the hall and down three doors from Honor’s, and grabbed a change of clothes. It took a second to brush himself free of the debris he’d picked up from the ground in the stone yard, but he figured it was better to take a moment now than spend half the day fighting with a twig in his trousers.

  He was still buttoning up a new shirt as he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. All his exercise from this morning had made him hungry, even if it was still technically an hour or so till lunch. He didn’t find Joey in the kitchen as he’d expected, but he did find a brief note on the counter explaining the timing of meals, the contents of the refrigerator, and that he was free to help himself to anything that wasn’t on the neatly printed menu beside the note. He took Honor’s cousin at her word and foraged in the fridge, emerging with half a rabbit and a full duck breast, cooked beautifully rare.

  Sitting at the small kitchen table, he made short work of his snack before he wiped the grease off his hands with a dishtowel and pulled out his cell phone. He noted gratefully that he still got a pretty good signal out here in the woods and dialed Graham’s direct line at Vircolac.

  “Vircolac,” a perky feminine voice announced. “We bring good things back to life.”

  Logan snorted out a laugh. “What, is that a new ad slogan?”

  “It’s still in testing. The first focus group yielded mixed results. How are you, Logan? Arrived safely in the wild, untamed north?”

  “Missy, I’m only a hundred and fifteen miles outside of Manhattan, and the last yeti from these parts became a stockbroker back in eighty-seven. But I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Spoilsport.” She sounded remarkably unfazed by the correction. “How are things going so far? Did the new alpha make a good first impression?”

  Logan’s mind instantly conjured up the sight of Honor silhouetted in the bathroom doorway the instant before she had noticed him. The light and steam behind her had outlined her in lush detail, emphasizing the soft curves of her breasts, those long legs, and the luscious flare of her hips. He felt his body stirring at the memory and cleared his throat. No need to tell the Luna just how impressed certain parts of him had really been. “I’m reserving judgment.”

  Missy snorted. “Just like a man. I assume you called to talk to my mate, not to me, right?”

  The question caught Logan unawares. Not because the answer wasn’t yes, but because he realized that for the first time since he’d originally met Missy Roper Winters, he really would rather talk to her husband than to her. The epiphany almost knocked him over. Missy hadn’t caused the erection he could feel straining against his jeans—zip front, this time—as they talked; Honor had. He’d been fine until his mind had conjured up that image of the lithe brunette poised in the bathroom door wearing nothing more than a towel. And when he let his mind wander along its favorite path, he imagined Honor’s pale, creamy skin and dark, curling hair, not Missy’s blond mop and curvy figure. It amazed him.

  “Logan?”

  The quiet question shook him out of his meditation. “Right. Sorry, Miss. Yeah, I do need to talk to Graham. Is he around?”

  “Sure. He was just showing Ava the door. She stopped over to see Roarke, and Graham never rests easy until he’s seen her taxi pull away. I imagine he’ll be back any second.”

  Logan could hardly blame Graham. Of all Missy’s close friends, Ava Markham inspired the greatest sense of fear and awe. An unrepentant matchmaker, she’d tried her hand at setting up just about everyone she knew at one time or another. Now, her erstwhile victims spent most of their time praying for the day when someone would turn the tables on her. “Right. Should I call back?”

  “No, don’t worry about it. Here he is now.”

  He heard a shuffling sound as the receiver was passed from one hand to the other, then a rough growl replaced Missy’s light, feminine voice in his ear. “What’s up?”

  Logan felt his eyebrow arching. “Nice to talk to you, too. I’m fine, thanks. Didn’t sleep that well last night, but somehow I’m not feeling all that many ill effects. Must be the water up here.”

  “Can it, Hunter. It’s been a lousy day.”

  “I heard. Ava paid a visit, huh? Having the place fumigated?”

  “Not yet. Maybe when Missy takes Roarke to the park later. So what’s the news?”

  “I’m here.”

  Pause.

  “That’s it? That’s the news?”

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  “Yeah, but they could at least say, ‘We’re here and we put down some rocks,’ right?”

  “Okay. I’m here, and I’ve met Tate’s daughter.”

  Another pause.

  “And?”

  “There’s not much else to tell. I’ve only been here”—he glanced at his watch—“fifteen hours, and most people around here were asleep for a good eight or nine of those.”

  He and Honor hadn’t been asleep, but he saw no need to bog the conversation down with details.

  “Yeah, but you’ve had time to form a first impression, haven’t you?”

  Logan paused, reluctant to say anything. On the one hand, he didn’t want to hurt Honor’s chance to prove herself, but on the other, he couldn’t lie to his alpha. “Yeah. She’s pretty together, considering what she’s just been through. I think she has potential.”

  “Potential or ability?”

  “It’s really too soon to make that kind of call.”

  “What about the pack? Have they settled in to the idea of having a female alpha, especially such a young one?”

  “I’m going to start talking to them once I’m off with you. So far I’ve only met a couple of them, and I doubt that’s much to go by.”

  “It’s a start. What did they have to say?”

  Logan gritted his teeth for a second before answering. “There have been three challenges since she took the title Alpha.”
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br />   “Really? Well, she’s alive, so I guess that means she can handle herself in a fight. How is she taking the deaths?”

  “I don’t think her father’s death has had a chance to sink in yet. She’s been too busy keeping things running to shed any tears over him.”

  “Understandable. But what about the challenge deaths? Is she holding up after those?”

  Shit. He knew this answer was not one his friend was going to like, so he hesitated for a second.

  “There haven’t been any deaths,” he finally admitted.

  Again, Graham paused. “What does that mean? If there were challenges…”

  “She chose to end them without slaying her opponents. The first showed her his throat, and the other two she crippled. But she hasn’t killed anyone.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  Not the reverent kind, but the are-you-fucking-kidding-me kind.

  “And you still think she has the potential to lead that pack?” Graham asked carefully.

  “I think it’s possible. She’s strong enough. Two of those challenges came from grown men, and she defeated both of them, death or no. She’s also damned smart from what I can tell. True, she’s got a bit of a feminine notion of mercy, but I believe she would do what needed to be done if it came to that kind of situation.”

  “She doesn’t believe an alpha challenge is that kind of situation?”

  Logan felt the need to defend her, which was weird enough in itself, but coupled with the fact that his hackles were going up in response to his alpha, it crossed the line into surreal. “She did what she had to do, and she walked away from the challenges a clear winner. The last one was her closest childhood friend. Imagine how you would feel if you were faced with a choice to let me live or die. How easy would that death stroke be for you?”

  “Whoa. We’re not talking about you and me, brother. We’re talking about Ethan Tate’s daughter. Aren’t we?”

  Logan forced down his growl. “Yes. We are. And I think we need to give her the benefit of the doubt. The first Howl since Ethan’s death will be this weekend. Three days from now. The whole pack will be gathered, and according to Pack Law, any outstanding challenges will have to be answered then or held till the next Clans Moot.”

  “Which is still three more years away. And it’s scheduled to be hosted in Silverback territory this time. So she and her clan will have to come here.” He was silent for a moment, and Logan could almost hear him thinking. “I won’t say I’m not concerned over what you’ve told me, but I trust your judgment. Stay through the Howl. If you think she’s capable of leading the pack after what you see then, I’ll accept your word and leave her in power until the next Clans Moot. Then I’ll take a look for myself and make a final decision.”

  Oh, right. Honor would just love that little plan. That just meant that his own carefully thought-out plan would be to not tell Honor a word about it.

  “Agreed.”

  “Good. Now get back to work. I’m thinking about trying to give Missy a new baby for her birthday.”

  Logan rolled his eyes at the shriek he heard just before the phone disconnected. He flipped the cell phone closed and shoved it into his pocket. Let Graham have fun with his little blond mate. Logan had a darker fish to fry.

  Six

  The meaty, spicy scent of chili hit Honor the minute she stepped into the meeting hall and clashed immediately with the sick knot of tension that had been twisting around in her stomach all afternoon. Only a mighty act of will—or perhaps sheer cursed stubbornness—kept her from spinning on her heel and racing to the nearest tree trunk to lose what little contents her stomach might have on offer. Damn her father, and damn Logan Hunter. Between the two of them, she hadn’t been able to go a day without nausea in close to a week.

  As if she didn’t have enough to worry about.

  Fortunately, all of the recent practice Honor had gotten in recently at keeping her thoughts and feelings (and recently consumed meals) to herself kicked in and reminded her to clench her teeth, take short, shallow breaths, and fake it with authority. With that plan in place, she managed to nod and exchange greetings with the gathered pack members as she made her way to the alpha’s dining table at the rear center of the huge room. In pride of place, the table sat apart from the long rows that stretched the length of the hall, allowing the alpha to see and be seen by every other Lupine in the room. Ethan Tate had graced its center chair like a modern, furry Genghis Khan surveying his Mongol hoards. To Honor, it held about as much appeal as an executioner’s electric chair. In her mind, she’d taken to calling it Sparky in a morbid attempt at humor. The way she saw it, the title fit—it was the ultimate hot seat.

  Of course, that didn’t stop her from making her way steadily toward it, nor would it stop her from planting her ass in it and keeping it there while she shared the pack’s traditional communal Wednesday-night meal. Her father had designated it as the alpha’s seat, so as the new alpha, that was where Honor would sit. Everyone expected it of her.

  She felt the eyes on her as she settled into the carved wooden chair and pretended to ignore them, which was easier said than done when you considered that more than two thirds of the pack tended to show up at these twice-weekly group meals. For as long as Honor could remember, the alpha had hosted the pack on Wednesday and Sunday nights in the enormous barnlike meeting hall with the attached industrial kitchen at the back. When she’d been a child, Honor’s Aunt Marie had been the head cook, whipping up mammoth pots of chili or stew, or roasting entire deer and cows on spits outside the back door. These days, Joey had taken over, of course. She was her mother’s daughter, after all, and feeding anyone who stood still long enough seemed to be her calling in life. That and reorganizing Honor’s T-shirts according to some system Honor had yet to figure out but seemed to always get wrong.

  “Tonight is the last of the bison,” Joey said as she set a heaping bowl of fiery red chili and an open bottle of beer in front of her cousin. “Sunday we’ll turn three sheep into stew, but hopefully after the Howl there will be enough clear heads around here to bring down some deer and leave them whole enough to share. Everyone has been asking for venison.”

  Wrenching her attention back to the present, Honor threw the other woman a smile. “Thanks, Joey. The way you roast it, I’m sure they have been. You let me know if you don’t get what you need, though. I’ll make sure we bring you a buck or two.”

  Joey nodded, drying her hands on her apron, but making no move to head back to the kitchen. Feeling awkward, Honor reached for her spoon and stirred her chili. She really didn’t feel much like eating at the moment, but she didn’t want to insult her cousin. Usually, Joey was so busy at the big meals that she didn’t have time to stay around and chat.

  “How have things been going with the beta from the city?” her cousin asked after a moment, and Honor reflected that the answer to that question had more to do with the death of her appetite than she would care to admit.

  She lifted a spoonful of food to her lips and blew on it. As if she had the faintest intention of eating anything. “Fine.”

  “He’s been asking a lot of questions. The girls mentioned it to me.” Joey nodded toward the kitchen doorway where half a dozen women bustled around finishing dishing out tonight’s dinner and cleaning up from its preparation. “Most of us haven’t been exactly sure what to tell him.”

  Tell him to go fuck himself.

  “I’ve noticed that myself,” a deep voice drawled, and Honor had to exercise a considerable amount of strength not to plant her face in her bowl in a reckless attempt at drowning by chili. If she offed herself that way, at least it would take care of her inner wolf. Her approaching heat had the furry little slut panting and howling every time Logan Hunter got within ten feet of her.

  “M-Mr. Hunter,” Joey stuttered, her color leaching away and returning just as quickly in a flash of bright red embarrassment. “I didn’t notice you come in.”

  Logan smiled his charming smile.
“I’m not surprised. There’s quite a crowd in here, but I’m pretty certain that can be explained by the amazing scents I’ve been smelling for the last couple of hours. Someone around here evidently knows their way around a kitchen.”

  “Oh, it’s just chili. Would you like me to get you a bowl? I meant it when I said in the note that I’d be happy to fix you something back at the house if you’d rather not eat with everyone else.”

  “Note?” Honor growled, wondering when her cousin and their uninvited guest had gotten cozy enough with each other to start exchanging notes.

  “Your cousin thoughtfully left me a note in the kitchen up at the house letting me know that most of the pack usually eats here at the hall on Wednesday nights.” Logan offered the explanation easily, almost as easily as he slid into the chair next to Honor and reached across her for the heaping basket of corn bread and garlic toast. “And, thank you, Joey, I’d love a bowl. If it tastes half as good as it smells, I could probably be persuaded to beg for one.”

  Honor’s wolf snarled at the flirtatious tone and the way Logan smiled at her cousin, which made Honor want to punch herself. Despite their mistake of this afternoon and her horny animal instincts, it was none of Honor’s business who the visitor flirted with. In fact, she should thank Joey for taking the annoyance off her hands. She certainly shouldn’t be growling possessively over the man, even if he had tried to mate her just a few hours before. That had been about nothing more than her intensifying heat pheromones and the heat of a particularly passionate moment. She hadn’t taken it seriously, so there was no reason she should expect him to do so. Besides which, she currently needed a mate slightly less than she needed a full frontal lobotomy.

  A spoonful of chili shoveled into her own mouth concealed her instinctive growl.