AGAINST MY WISH.

chapter 1

Bella was the

equivalent of a human twenty-one-year-old. She longed more than ever to have

Devlyn for her mate, wishing she hadn’t had to hide from the pack all these

years. The burning desire for him flooded her veins whenever she came into the

wolf’s heat. Her body craved his touch, but her mind had given up hoping to

ever have him for her own. If she could find a strong, agreeable human mate, she

could change him into a lupus garou, and he would keep her safe from Volan.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image of the brutish fiend,

and continued to pack her overnight bag. Any man would be better than he—a

good mate who would help her establish her own pack.

She turned to look at Devlyn’s photo sitting on the bedside table, the most

recent one that Argos, the old, retired pack leader, had sent her. Taking a deep

breath, she threw another pair of jeans into her bag, determined to get her mind

off Devlyn.

Knowing she couldn’t put off mating much longer, she realized that one’s

second choice far outweighed living alone; even the sound of a dog’s howl on

the night’s breeze triggered the gnawing craving to be with a pack.

She stalked into her office and left an email message for Argos, a routine

she’d adopted because he insisted she keep him posted whenever she went into

the woods. As a loner, she’d have no backup. Off to the cabin for the weekend

again, Argos. Give the pack my love, in secret. Yours always, love, Bella

She didn’t have to tell him to keep her correspondence a secret; he knew. what would happen if Volan learned where she was….

Turning off her computer, she picked up her phone and called her next-door

neighbor—a woman who had partially eased Bella’s loneliness after losing her

twin sister in a fire so many years ago. “Chrissie, I’m going to my cabin for the

weekend again. Can you keep an eye on my place?”

“Sure thing, Bella. Pick up your mail on Saturday, too, if you’d like. And I’ll

water your greenhouse plants. Hey, I don’t want to hold you up, but did you hear

about the latest killing?”

“Yeah, the police have got to catch the bastard soon.”

That was one of the reasons she was going to her cabin, to get away, to

consider the facts of the murders, to search for clues in the woods. He had to be

from Portland or the surrounding area, since it was there he’d killed all the

women. And he had to take a jaunt in a forest from time to time. The call of the

wild was too strong in them. She hadn’t expected to smell red lupus garou in the

place where she ran, as far away as it was from the city. For three years she

hadn’t smelled a hint of them. Not until last weekend. Was one of them the

killer? She had to know.

Bella tossed a pink sweatshirt into the bag.

“You be careful, honey. The victims are all redheads in their twenties. And

the last was killed not far from here.”

“Don’t worry, Chrissie. I’ve got a g*n for protection.” Well, two: one at her

cabin, and one at home, but who was counting? Silver bullets, too; Bella had

them made for Volan. It wasn’t the lupus garou way, but she had no other way

to fight him. She would never be his.

“A…a g*n? Do you know how to shoot it?”

Yep, she’d learned how to shoot a g*n a good century and a half ago, ever

since the early days when she had lived in the wilderness, trying to survive in the

lands west of Colorado.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Give your kids hugs for me, will you? Tell Mary I want

to see the painting she did for art class, and tell Jimmy that I want to see his

science project when I return.”

Chrissie sighed. “I’ll tell them. You be careful up there all by yourself. That

is, if you’re going all by yourself.”

Always checking. Chrissie was looking for husband number two, and she

assumed Bella rendezvoused with some mountain man every time she returned. to her cabin.

“See you Monday.”

“Be careful, Bella. You never know where that maniac will end up.”

“I’ll be cautious. Got to go.”

Bella hung up the phone and zipped her suitcase. Before it turned dark she

had every intention of searching the woods for further clues concerning the red

lupus garou—not a wild dog, a mixed wolf-dog breed, or as some thought, a pit

bull that some bastard had trained to kill his victims—that might be killing the

women.

Why had she caught the scent of red lupus garou in the area near her cabin

now, when the woods had been free of their kind for the last three years? She

envisioned a lone female wouldn’t stand a chance at remaining that way. Her

stomach curdled with the idea that she’d have to give up her cabin and find a

new place to run. Just one more concern to add to her growing list of worries.

Later that day, when Bella arrived at her cabin, the waning moon called to

her though it was still fairly light out. She tilted her nose up to the breeze,

standing on the porch of her cedar home in the woods, the building now a faded

gray. It served as her hideaway on the weekends when she lived on the wild side,

away from the hustle and bustle of the city of Portland. She would be the right

age to be Volan’s mate, if he ever found her. Smiling at how clever she had been

to avoid him, the smile faded as a coyote howled. She wasn’t meant to be a

rogue wolf, living alone without a pack. Some were naturally geared that way.

Not her.

More than that, Devlyn still held her heart hostage, damn him. She could still

feel the way his strong fingers had gripped her shoulders with possessiveness,

smell his feral craving to have her, feel his heart thundering when he crushed her

against him. Why couldn’t he have run with her?

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of the one who’d possessed

her soul since the beginning.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care for the gray wolf pack, the lupus garou family

who had taken her in. It was the unfathomable notion that she’d have been

Volan’s mate that fired her soul to the depths of hell. Stronger than the rest, he. wasn’t brighter, nor caring in the least bit. Just a bully, such as in ancient times

when the strongest men ruled. Why couldn’t she find a mate who would treat her

as…as…an equal?

Somewhere, such a male had to exist.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her sweater, turtleneck, denims, and

hiking boots, and dropped them on a porch chair. Standing n***d, she shivered,

then breathed in the heavenly scent of pine needles, the smell once again

triggering the memory of Devlyn kissing her. No man since had kissed her like

he had.

She gritted her teeth and swallowed hard. He stirred primal longings in her

too strong to quench. The desire to feel him deep inside her, filling her with his

seed, producing their offspring, their family—sharing a lifetime commitment as

mates forever—overwhelmed her. But he wasn’t the leader of the pack. Even if

she wanted Devlyn for her mate, she didn’t think he’d ever be strong enough to

have her. Yet, she couldn’t help but keep in touch with Argos, the old former

leader of the pack. Knowing Devlyn was alive and well….

She growled with exasperation. For now she had to hunt like a wolf, and in

the interim, search for a different prey—the feral predator that stalked human

redheaded females and murdered them like a rabid wolf.

Stretching again, her lean body began to take the form of the wolf. The

painless transformation always occurred quickly and filled her with a sense of

urgency—to hunt, to run wild among the other creatures of the forest.

A thick cinnamon-red pelt covered her skin as her nose elongated into a

snout, and her teeth grew ready for the hunt. She straightened her back, howled

with the change, then dropped to her paws. Her nails extended into sharp claws,

itching to dig into the pine needle-cushioned earth.

Though she preferred venison to rabbit, she hunted the latter. Killing deer out

of season constituted a crime. If anyone found the leftovers of such a kill, an

investigation would follow. Soon word would spread that a wolf was killing deer

in the area. A wolf that might next go after ranchers’ sheep or cattle, or

household pets, or children. A wolf thought to be extinct in these parts.

Leaping off the porch, her long legs carried her with graceful bounds through

the wilderness. She traveled through several hundreds of acres before spying

another cabin—quiet, vacated. Since it was winter and no longer hunting season,

except for the end of dusky Canadian goose season, she shouldn’t glimpse

another human being.. She thought she caught a whiff of something familiar. Pausing, she sniffed

the air, and recognized the distinctive smell of lupus garou—red lupus garou.

Loping toward the origin of the scent, she darted past pines and firs, ducked

beneath low-hanging branches, jumped a moss-covered log in her path…then

halted.

A patch of red fur clung to the bark of an oak. Definitely red wolf; and

because none existed here, it had to be a red lupus garou’s.

She contemplated returning to her human form and taking the evidence back

to her cabin, but she was miles from there, and as cold as it was, her human

counterpart probably wouldn’t make it.

The breeze shifted. She smelled the red’s scent stronger now. He’d just

urinated somewhere nearby, marking his territory. She hesitated. If he were

looking for a mate, she’d be a prime target; and if he were an alpha male, she

wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him if he decided to force a mating.

Leaves rustled. A twig snapped underfoot a short distance away. A chill

raced all the way down her spine to the tip of her taut tail. An eerie feeling she

was being watched froze her in place.

What if he was the killer? What if he was hunting her now? But what if she

could lure him into the open, play his game, and turn him over to whatever pack

happened to live in the area? Even if he were a loner, the pack in the territory

would condemn him to die. Killing humans put every lupus garou at risk.

Keeping their secret hidden was the only way for them to survive.

Then again, he might just be a pack member hunting for fresh meat—

enjoying the freedom of the change like she was—who had come across her, a

loner lupus garou violating the pack’s territory. Unless…unless their reds had a

shortage of females like the Colorado grays did, and….

Damn, why hadn’t she considered that before now?

She stared into the shadowy woods where bugs cricketed in a raucous chorus

and a breeze ruffled the pine needles in a whispered hush. If there was a severe

shortage of female lupus garou, was the killer trying to turn a human female in

the ancient way? To make her his mate?

Not good.

She dashed to where he’d left his mark. No sign of him. But the urine was

fresh. Too fresh. He had to be close by, but if he were stalking her he couldn’t be

an alpha male. An alpha male would have already approached her and let her.know he wanted her, if he needed a mate. He had to smell how ripe she was and

know she was ready, too. Was that why he went after female humans, because

they were easier to take than a lupus garou? Maybe he was afraid to advance on

a loner who was more feral, warier, more unpredictable.

She caught the scent of another. Also male. Except for twitching her ears

back and forth and withdrawing her panting tongue, she listened and sniffed the

air but stood in place.

She smelled—water.

Swallowing, she felt parched, and loped toward the sound of Wolf Creek, the

water bubbling nearby. At the fringe of the forest she hesitated, not liking the

way the stream’s banks were so exposed. For several minutes she stood

watching, listening for signs of danger—human danger.

Nothing.

The water beckoned to her. She swallowed again, stared at the rush of the

stream, then walked cautiously across the pebble bank.

Unable to shake the feeling that someone watched her, she waited like a

rabbit cornered by a wolf, cemented in place.

Ice-cold water from melting snow off the mountains dove over rounded rock.

She dipped her tongue into the water and lapped it up; the liquid cooled and

soothed her dry throat.

She couldn’t help wishing she were back in Colorado, running with Devlyn

like they’d done when they were younger—chasing through the woods, nipping

at each other’s hindquarters, feeling the wind ruffle their fur. God, how she

wished he’d mated with her.

Water trickled and gurgled at her feet, birds chirped overhead, and sugar-

drained oak leaves rustled in the breeze all around her. But then a flash of red fur

caught her attention, and she turned.

The glitter of the sun’s fading reflection off a wolf’s amber eyes captured

her, held her hostage, but her gaze held him captive, too. But only for a moment.

His head whipped to the side. Another flash of fur, and another male appeared.

Then, the wave of a wolf’s tail as the lupus garou made a hasty retreat. She

should have heeded the instinctual warning. Instead, she gauged the remaining

wolf’s posture, the way he turned his attention back to her, closed his mouth, and

almost seemed to smile before dashing after his companion.

The crashing through the underbrush couldn’t hide the most dangerous sound.known to wildlife—a trigger clicking on a rifle. Nothing could disguise the

sound of death.

Immediately her tail stood upright, and the hair on her back and neck stood

on end.

A chill hurtled down her spine and she dashed through the creek, her heart

thundering. Her ears twisted back and forth, trying to identify where the hunter

stood.

The sound of a c***k rang across the woods and open area, and a sharp pain

stabbed her in the left flank. She stumbled…then attempted to dash off again,

her leg numbed with paralysis.

The hunter shouted, “He’s still going! I’ve never seen a red wolf that big!

Shoot him again!”

Idiots. They couldn’t kill her with normal bullets.

Running for several yards, she reached the edge of the forest, but the guarded

relief she felt withered when the men splashed across the creek in hot pursuit of

her. She sprinted north toward her cabin, miles away. Except going this way

meant she had to cross the river. Then again, she could ford it, while she doubted

they could.

“Hurry!” one of the men shouted, his voice rife with enthusiasm, but

shadowed with a hint of concern.

She would have clenched her teeth in anger, but she was panting too hard.

Her movements slowed. Even her brain fuzzed, and her eyesight blurred.

Ripping out their throats came to mind, if they got close enough. The primal

instinct for self-preservation voided out the ruling drummed into her that her

kind didn’t kill humans; keeping their existence a secret outweighed the

importance of the life of any single lupus garou.

“Tag him before he reaches the river! We don’t want him drowning!” the

same man shouted.

Another c***k. Another stab of pain. This time her right flank. She stumbled

when her back legs gave out. What had they shot her with? She panted, her heart

racing as she tried to keep her wits.

The men crashed through the brush toward her. Their boots impacting with

the earth radiated outward and the tremor centered in her pads. She struggled to

run. Her heart rate slowed.

“Man, oh, man, I told you, didn’t I, Thompson? He’s beautiful,” a tall man. said, wearing camouflaged gear, his dark hair chopped short, the bill of a

camouflaged baseball cap shading his eyes. He approached her with caution.

She gave him a feral look that meant danger and dragged her back legs.

Work, damn you! Work! But no matter how much she willed her legs to push her

forward, she couldn’t manage. She sat, panic driving her to run, but unable to

oblige as a strange numbness slipped through her body. No longer able to sit up,

she rolled over onto her side. And watched the hunters approach with murder in

her eyes.

“Damn! He’s the biggest red wolf I’ve ever seen, Joe,” Thompson said as

both drew closer…cautiously…the smell of fear cloaking them. He was dressed

like the other, only his blue eyes were wide with excitement.

She lifted her head, snarled, and snapped her teeth, but the futile effort cost

her precious energy. Exhausted, she dropped her head back to the forest floor,

the bed of pine needles tickling her nose.

Joe crouched at her back, then pulled something from her hip. A dart, not

bullets. Damn. Her heart beat so slowly she thought she’d die.

“You sure as hell were right that a red wolf prowled these parts. But they’ve

been extinct for years. How in the hell did he get here? I mean, he couldn’t have

traveled all the way from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.” Joe

smelled of sweat and s*x and a musky deodorant that wasn’t holding up under

the pressure; nor was his flowery cologne hiding the body odor.

Thompson, a blond-haired, bearded man, smelled just as sweaty and virile,

but he wore no artificial sweeteners to attract the female variety. She could hear

his heart hammering against his ribs when he raised her back leg.

Unable to lift her head, she snarled, but the sound, muffled in sleep, didn’t

have the threat she intended.

“He’s a she. Damn. How’d a female ever grow this big?”

She growled, priding herself in being a red wolf, and small. Sure, for a real

wolf she appeared big, but as a lupus garou….

He ran his hand over her hind leg. If she hadn’t seen him do it, she’d never

have realized it, as numb as her leg was. “Long legs, best looking red pelt I’ve

ever seen on a feral wolf.” He looked over at the dark-haired man. “She’s in

heat, Joe. We’ll have to find her a mate.”

Mate? Great. If they locked her in a room with a real red wolf…ohmigod,

they couldn’t be planning on taking her to a zoo? “That’d be the ticket.” Joe lifted a cell phone to his ear. “Hey, we got her!

Yeah, the wolf’s a she, not a he as I’d assumed. No s**t! I told you I’d seen her

running through here last weekend.”

Why hadn’t she seen these men? Smelled their pungent odors? Heard them?

She had let down her guard, and now she would pay.

“Yeah, she’s a big one.” Joe nodded. “We figured one dart would be

enough…took two.” He ran his hand over her side. She attempted her most

terrifying growl, but it sounded more like a sickly, low moan. “Maybe 110

pounds, more the size of a gray.” He chuckled. “I know, I know, I told you she’s

big. No, not fat. Lean as they come, just longer legged and longer bodied, and

she has the prettiest red pelt you ever did see.”

He ran his hand over her back. “Okay, we’ll pack her out of here. Be there in

about three hours; longer, if she comes to. The tranquilizers each were set for a

40-pound wolf, not one as big as she is. But we didn’t want to overdo it. And let

’em know Big Red can have a mate now. No need for the Melbourne, Florida,

zoo to send us a loaner. Unless she’s been mating with coyotes, she’s about due

for a hunk of a red wolf.”

He laughed, undoubtedly amused by the response to his comment on the

other end of the line.

She groaned inwardly.

“All right, out here.” He turned to the blond. “Seems a shame if she’s doing

so well in these woods that we have to put her into captivity, Thompson.”

“Hey, like you said, she won’t find any of her kind around here. We’re doing

her a favor.”

Inwardly, she fumed, and if she hadn’t been so doped up, she’d have bitten

both of them.

Three days later, Bella paced across her new zoo home—nice flat boulders

for her to rest on, tree-shaded areas, and an indoor exhibit where humans

gawked at her through fingerprint-smudged glass windows.

Furious with the hunters, and even more so with herself, a growl rumbled in

her throat. How could she have been so lax in her run not to have noticed them

before this? She paused and took a deep breath, then glanced up at the top of the pen. No

way to climb up above. Even if she changed into her human form, she’d never

make it, given the way the cliff arched back over the top, providing shade on a

sunny day.

She wandered over to the water trough. When she dipped her tongue into the

water, Big Red slinked in behind her. She growled. He backed off. The poor old

horny red wolf was dying to mate with her. She smelled perfectly ripe, the

precise mating time for a wolf, so what was wrong with her, she was sure he

wondered.

She shuddered. Mating with a pure wolf…the very thought.

She resumed her pacing, but when the familiar scent of lupus garou caught

her off guard, she stopped. Two men, both around five-ten in height, leaned over

the wrought iron railing across the moat. The breeze carried their scent to her,

musky and wild. But she recognized the scent of one of them from the Cascades

when she went on her run. Ohmigod, they’d followed her all the way here?

Unless they lived in Portland or the surrounding area…not good.

She studied them closer. Both men wore their brown hair—tinged with a

slight reddish cast—short, and watched her with intrigue. But they both had

small chins, not a nice square manly jaw like Devlyn had, and both were

scrawny compared to the taller, sturdier built grays.

Red lupus garou. Her heart took a dive. She hadn’t seen her kind in human

form since she lost her own people when she turned six.

They smiled as she observed them, and tilted their noses up slightly, smelling

the breeze when it shifted.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the older man said, who appeared to be in his late

twenties. “Where have you been all of my life?”

She looked over at the other, probably closer to her age. He grinned like he

advertised teeth whitener. “Yeah, Alfred, she’s one of us all right. Understands

every word we say. The right mating age, too.”

“Yeah, and in heat, too.” Alfred rubbed his smooth chin. “Got yourself in

kind of a bind, eh?” He glanced around, and seeing no other visitors nearby,

turned back to her and winked. “We’ll risk getting you out, but on one

condition.”

She bared her teeth at him, and he burst out laughing. His friend joined in on

the chorus.