“Damn it, Finn,” Paul said. “You bring her straight back here!”
“Are you going to tell Hunter what Finn said?” Bjornolf asked.
Finn wondered what Paul would do.
Paul growled. “Why don’t you just crawl back under the rock where you came from?”
Bjornolf laughed, and in his wolf form, Finn smiled.
Meara wanted to run miles away—just for the fun of it. Not because she wanted to run away from the men or cause trouble. Running was in their wolf blood. She loved stretching her legs, exercising, smelling the smells, and collecting them in her wolf fur and taking them back to the den, so to speak, to relive the memories when she returned to the human-built home. The freedom she felt was so part of being a wolf.
She often ran when she felt like it, but especially when she felt stressed, tense, or confined. She really hated all this spy stuff and having to stay out of an assassin’s sights, although she wondered if the assassins they had already killed had been enough of a warning to the others that she and Finn weren’t easy targets and no one else would bother them.
At least that’s what she hoped.
But then she heard him—a wolf tracking her. No, two. One to her flank and one from behind. She’d never seen Hunter’s team members in their wolf coats, except for Finn back at her house, and not Bjornolf either, so she wouldn’t recognize them on sight unless one was Finn. And she wasn’t facing the wind the right way to catch their scents, but they would be getting a fill of hers.
She halfway assumed they would be Paul and Finn. Bjornolf was too cocky to stoop so low as to chase her down.
But when the first of the wolves suddenly shot out from behind some trees, she darted away to avoid being tackled. He was larger than she thought any of the men might be, a dark gray with barely any markings. Just a little bit of black fur over his eyes to make him appear as though he were frowning. Maybe he was.
Probably he was.
But he wasn’t Finn. The worst of it was that his legs were much longer than hers, and he ran faster so that even though she had dodged out of his path, he was now following her and quickly catching up. And then he lunged. She sensed, rather than saw, that he would jump to catch her from behind, and he did. The weight of his body and the violent impact effectively brought her down, and she yipped in surprise.
But the way he growled at her in a sinister manner that made her suspect he wasn’t one of the good guys.
She tried to get out from under the wolf, but she couldn’t move an inch with his weight pressing her to the pine-needle floor.
She feared he’d bite her in the spine to kill her, but a growling from behind them warned that another wolf was approaching in a hurry. Before the one on her back could move, the other jumped. She felt the impact of his mass striking the wolf pinning her down and causing the additional body weight to crash into her, too. Buried under the two wolves, she yelped again.
The newly arrived wolf’s teeth clashed with those of the wolf on top of her as he lay on his side, squishing her. But he couldn’t move away, either, as the newcomer viciously attacked, tooth enamel clashing against tooth enamel, throats growling, and the heavy smell of testosterone in the air as the two wolves tangled.
The term “top dog” came to mind, even though that was an insult to their wolf kind. The one on top did have the advantage, and he wasn’t giving it up. The one beneath him struggled to get free, all the while fighting for his life, his mouth wide open, teeth bared as he fought the one on top. Attempting to keep the attacking wolf’s teeth from sinking into his neck, he was effectively keeping Meara pinned in place. His struggles and massive weight pressed against her painfully bruised her, and she could barely suck in air.
As much as she hated being confined beneath a couple of roughhousing wolves with no way to help or retaliate or run, she tried to calm her panic and concentrate on any move between the two wolves that would indicate she had a little wiggle room to free herself.
The wolf on top of her made a momentous effort to ditch the attacking wolf, and the increased pressure of his massive body against her made her yelp again.
That made the one on top growl more deeply and tear into the other even more fiercely. Despite the noise they were making, she heard two more wolves racing across the ground. Her ear picked up the sound and vibration of their footfalls where her head was resting against the earth.
With a strangled bark, the one on top of her collapsed, and she knew the attacking wolf, her avenging wolf had killed the other one. Once she was able to lift her head and look, she saw that her protector was Finn. Teeth sinking into the massive wolf, Finn yanked him away. Then panting, he leaned over and licked Meara’s face as she struggled to sit up. So much for a nice wilderness run and the thought that she would kill any assassin that threatened her on her trek. She had never expected a wolf to come after her.
The other two wolves finally appeared, and from the way her savior looked at them, she knew they had to be Bjornolf and Paul. Finn shifted and stood before her, naked, sweaty, glorious. As a wolf, he was just as striking, but as a man, he was utterly gorgeous.
And from the scowl on his face, he was furious with her. She narrowed her eyes at him. She was sorry for the fight that had ensued, but she wasn’t sorry about taking a run to get out of the house for a while.
“Are you all right, Meara?” Finn asked, already crouching beside her, feeling her ribs with his fingertips, and touching gently to keep from hurting her.
But the bruises hurt, and where the wolves had pressed hard against her, her muscles were sore. She winced, and he quickly pulled his fingers away and said with genuine concern, “I’m sorry. The good news is you appear to have no broken ribs.” His gaze returned to hers. “He didn’t have time to bite you?”
She shook her head, and despite trying to justify her actions to herself, she felt unworthy of Finn’s kindness.
Still wearing their wolf coats, Bjornolf and Paul watched her, but then the one directed the other with a nod of his head toward the naked dead man—a heavyset blond with large bones, fair skin, and lifeless amber eyes. The two wolves took hold of his arms with their teeth and dragged him deeper into the woods.
She only hoped that however they disposed of him, their wolf kind wouldn’t be held accountable for the man’s untimely death.
“Are you ready to return to the beach house? Do you need for me to carry you?” Finn asked.
She stumbled to get to her feet, feeling sore and bruised, but unless she passed out, she wasn’t going to make Finn carry her all the way back to the house.
Finn’s dark expression was unreadable now, although she surmised he was upset with her. Trying not to look as sheepish as she felt, she headed back to the house, head held high, ears twisting back and forth, as she listened for sounds of the other wolves as they conducted their business with the dead man or of anyone else who might be prowling the woods.
Proudly, she held her tail high like an alpha wolf. She might feel badly for having alarmed everyone, but she wasn’t going to skulk back with her tail tucked between her legs like a beta over it. And as reluctant as she was to have to concede her recklessness—although she still felt that dealing with stress by running as a wolf was only natural—she would apologize to Finn and the other men.
She didn’t have to look back to see Finn following her. Having shape-shifted again, he quickly joined her, running close beside her as if he were her mate.
He had to know she wasn’t planning to tear off for parts unknown. But then again, maybe he was just trying to ensure she was protected in case another wolf showed up with deadly intent.
When they finally reached where they’d ditched their clothes, Finn offered to help Meara dress. At first, she was reluctant, but then feeling bad again about running off, she acquiesced. When she was dressed, she waited for him to dress, and then he took her by the hand as if they were on their first date and walked her across the sand to the stairs leading to the beach house’s deck.
“Are you all right, Meara?” Finn asked tenderly.
She nodded, and then he took her inside, making her wait in the kitchen where she took a seat on one of the bar stools. He hurried through the house, checking it, she surmised, for anyone who might have slipped in when they were all out running as wolves.
When he came back and stood before her, she looked up at his tender gaze and said, “I’m so sorry. I—”
“Don’t be, Meara.” He kissed the top of her head and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Why should you be sorry? Hell, Paul and I were fighting with each other like a couple of damned teens instead of watching the area for any sign of an assassin.”
“But—”
“You drew him out, distracting him, just so I could get the advantage.”
She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious. Hunter would have been furious with me.”
Finn touched her cheek with a gentle caress. “I’m not your brother.” He pulled her from the bar stool and, with his hand wrapped around hers, guided her to the master bedroom.
“What…?”
“A soak will do you a world of good for the sore muscles.” He smiled at her, and when he took her into the master bathroom with its whirlpool tub built for two, he stretched his arms above his head a little.
In that instant, she wondered if he planned on joining her in the bath. But what if Paul and Bjornolf learned about it? The word would definitely get back to Hunter, and she was certain he wouldn’t like it.
Chapter 13
Finn locked the door to the master bathroom and started the bathwater for Meara, but she still wasn’t certain what he intended to do.
“Is Anna jealous of you with me?” Meara asked, still bothered by the notion because she’d felt like she was beginning to bond with Anna like she had with her brother’s mate, Tessa. She didn’t often develop relationships with other women. Partly, she figured, because she’d never had a sister. “Is that why she sent Paul after you?”
“She’s afraid of what Hunter will do to me if he learns what I’ve been doing with his sister.” Finn barely concealed a smirk.