The Wolf's Mate Book 2: Linus & The Angel Read online

  “This is Caledonia. She is going to give you the mark of our heritage, my daughter. You must accept this burden of pain in order to begin your journey.” She turned and pulled off her own shirt, and when she swept her hair to the side, on her right shoulder blade were three black tattooed symbols. One sort of looked like a tree with two branches, one like a house with an antenna, and one like an upside down v. The tree and house were together and there was a small space and then the v. The tattoo couldn’t have been more than two inches wide and about that high, but it stood out starkly on her skin. Karly couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen it before.

  Her mother’s delicately long fingers touched her shoulder. “This is the symbol of our people, our kind. It is the mark of the Angel family line, the Ancient Greek symbol for Soul Mate. That is what the women in our family are born to be. Mates for werewolves.”

  She sat down in front of her and took Karly’s hands in hers. “Do you accept the mark of our people? Do you accept that you are an Angel, a human woman born to find your one true werewolf mate?” Her eyes were sincere, her sweet smile warm and patient. Karly had always expected she would marry a wolf someday, it’s all she’d ever known after all, but to know that she was somehow made to be one particular werewolf’s mate was an incredible knowledge and it filled her with warmth.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Her eyes shone. “Then do not cry, daughter. The pain will last for only a little while, and then you will bear the mark for the rest of your life. Let me tell you all about our family so that you can begin to prepare.” She sat down in the chair next to Karly and Caledonia had taken up the needle after prepping her skin and asked her to tell her when she was ready. Karly took a deep breath and said she was ready, and Caledonia touched the needle to her skin. Karly thought it would hurt badly, it was a handful of needles moving very fast and pushing black ink into her skin, after all. But it was more of an annoying sort of mild pain, and when she relaxed enough after the first pass of needles into the design she had sketched, then she could focus on her mother and their history.

  Her mother’s middle name was Angel and so was Karly’s. The reason was so that no one forgot what they were. When the creator made the first werewolf, he was a ravening thing, more animal than man. So the creator made a woman for the wolf, who was sensitive to the wolf’s nature and could soothe him like no other woman alive could. He made a perfect mate for him. The legend went that the wolf had been in his shift, cutting a path of destruction through civilization like a thresher through wheat, when he spied the woman. Intent on killing her, he looked into her eyes and felt his heart beating for the first time and shifted back into his human form and took her for his mate. He called her his angel, his salvation, and that was what she called herself from then on. When they had children, the boys all became werewolves and the girls all became soul mates, ready at age 21 to find their mate-for-life. Entirely human but supernaturally genetic, the girls had the ability to soothe their mates. Supercharged by the gene pool of their ancestors, any male children they had were almost always powerful wolves and the females became the next generation of angel mates.

  She knew this was true: her three brothers were all alphas of packs in North America. Bren in Ontario, Rico in Washington, and Graise in southern Florida. She was the only girl.

  When the tattoo was done she had learned so much about her ancestors and was thrilled to know that in nine short years she might be able to find her mate. No one knew if the journey would be easy or difficult, but it was always perfect. The joining of the angel and the wolf was almost instantaneous, even if they were strangers, because his beast recognized what she was immediately, even if the human part of the man didn’t.

  Karly worked hard to graduate early from high school and finished her bachelor’s degree just a month before she turned 21. She had hoped on some level that her mate would be found within her father’s pack, but it didn’t happen. When she turned of-age, none of the unmated males that she had grown up with were her mate, which meant she had to start her journey.

  After turning 21, she took a month to prepare herself to leave home, and thanks to her father’s personal wealth she never wanted these months for anything except her mate. Armed with a new car, a map of the known wolf packs within North America, and a fully stuffed bank account, she left her home pack and began a journey. All she needed to do was find the place where the wolves hung out and settle down for a few weeks. If her mate was in the town, she’d be drawn to him and him to her, and if not she moved on.

  The first few months were most difficult, because she missed her family and grew discouraged very quickly. She talked to her mom every night and she bolstered her hopes that she’d find him eventually, but she had to take on the search and keep going.

  As the first year of her travels began to draw to a close, she started to grow weary of being alone. It wasn’t just her mate that she was missing and hoping every day she would meet, it was the constant moving. Every two or three weeks, she would have to pack up her life and go somewhere else and start all over again. She went north first, while it was still summer, moving steadily up the coastline until the cold drove her south. The map was full of red x’s from packs she’d tried. There were just so many. Smaller states had usually two or three packs, larger states could have a half dozen or more. It varied, depending a lot on the packs themselves, whether they were friendly or not.

  She dated as she moved around, she was no prude and it wasn’t as if she was trying to save herself or anything. Hell, she hadn’t been a virgin since she was 15, and although she’d rather not think about The Prick, at one time he’d been her best friend since they were children and part of the pack. Sometimes you think you know someone and then they go nuttier than a squirrel. Life was sucky like that sometimes.

  Now, fifteen months later, she wasn’t even sure how she wound up in this part of nothing Kentucky and she’d been unable to find a place to rent short term in the town of Allen where the pack resided, so she’d had to go to the next town over, North Paddock. Not the nicest place she’d ever lived, but it was clean and relatively safe. And in the south, most of the packs stayed away from the very big cities, so you tended to get the odd rental room in a grandmotherly sort’s home or sometimes, small complexes like hers. But that would change now. She could call her mom and share the news and then she could put down roots finally. At age 22, this angel was going to spread her wings for the first time and start her life fresh.

  All her internalizing had woken her up enough that she really needed to pee. She looked out the large windows of what looked like a family room and the sky was dark. She wasn’t sure what that meant and couldn’t see a clock anywhere. But nature called and you gotta answer that for sure.

  She tried to slide out from underneath him so she didn’t wake him up, but he was like a very hot dead weight on top of her. She tickled her nails down his ribcage as far as she could reach and he gave a snorting laugh and jerked off her, surprise coloring his face.

  My, my. “Hello handsome.” She smiled, not bothering to try to cover herself. He’d gotten the whole show after all.

  He smiled, like he hadn’t smiled in a very long time and wasn’t sure how, and finally after staring at her for a long moment cleared his throat and said, “Hello.”

  “Bathroom?”

  Looking like he’d forgotten something he jumped up. “Oh, shit. Sorry.” He held his hand out for her and pulled her up gently.

  “Why are you sorry?” She followed him out of the family room down a short hallway.

  He cleared his throat again and looked sheepish, “I wanted to wake up before you, and be, you know, dressed? So you didn’t freak out.” As if she wouldn’t know that they’d had sex. At least once, but probably more, considering the stickiness between her legs.

  Before she could even think of a response to that, they were in what looked like a master bedroom that someone had taken a wrecking ball to, and stopped in front of an open door in the f
ar wall.

  He left her standing and rushed around in the bathroom and the bedroom for a minute and then said with a slight pant, “There’s fresh towels on the counter and a long shirt. I don’t know how you feel about wearing my shorts, but I put a pair in there for you and a pair of sweatpants.”

  “Are my clothes not dry? I could wait.” She chewed her lip, glancing past him into the small bathroom.

  “Um,” he looked uncomfortable, “I had to cut them off. They were frozen to you.”

  Damn it. She liked those jeans. But she’d rather be alive then dead with those jeans intact, so she guessed it was a wash. “Thank you, um, I don’t know your name. If you told me, I’ve forgotten.” Hello embarrassment. What a fantastic story for their grandchildren.

  “It’s alright, Karly. We really didn’t…do much talking, so I don’t expect you to remember everything. My name is Linus Mayfield. I’ll go make us some breakfast. Take your time, call if you need anything.” He looked like he wanted to give her a kiss or something, but before she could close the distance to him, he grabbed some clothes out of the closet and took his cute butt out the door.

  She shut the bathroom door and used the toilet. While the hot water got going in the shower, she looked at herself in the mirror and gasped in shock. Hickeys ran up and down the length of her neck and there were bite sized bruises on her shoulders and down the meat of her biceps. She checked her neck carefully and didn’t see the tell-tale four dots that indicated he had marked her as a mate. Wolves were twitchy about marking, and a wolf that marked a woman without a discussion would be upset with himself. Unless they were psychos of course.

  She marveled at the feelings inside her. Her heart beat soundly in her chest, blooming with first love. And her body was singing for him. Like, literally. If they hadn’t just officially met, she would have called him for some hot shower sex. She was disappointed that their first time together was missing from her memory. She must have been really out of it from the cold, but her body knew what to do regardless.

  The hot water coursed over her, the pressure hard enough that it stung at first, but she welcomed the feeling after a while and used his generically male products. He clearly didn’t have a girlfriend that stayed over, or he would have had the tell-tale bottle of floral body wash. She was very glad for that news. All he had was a bottle of V05 shampoo and a bar of soap that smelled like Irish Spring. You could tell a man’s sex habits by checking two places: the fridge and the shower. If he had any sort of feminine bath products in the bathroom or wine coolers in the fridge, then he was used to overnight guests of the female variety.

  She used his hairbrush and the hairdryer she found underneath the counter to dry her shoulder length black hair. She wondered if Linus liked the way she looked as she pondered her reflection. She was short and curvy with her mother’s pixy features and a mixture of her mother’s ivory skin and her father’s Egyptian olive coloring, so she had a nice year-round tan.

  She looked at the boxer briefs with a smile. At least they weren’t tightie-whities. She put them on, and the sweatpants, which were twice as long as her short legs but at least had a drawstring. She rolled the bottoms until her feet, in his white socks, peeked out, and then she held up the long sleeved t-shirt that advertised a garage called Pete’s. It looked well worn, so perhaps he worked there. Without a bra, her generous breasts threatened to split the fabric, but there wasn’t exactly anything she could do about that. And he already knew what they looked like. And felt like. And tasted like, considering her aching nipples. She allowed herself a moment to blush at her wantonness, and another moment to yell at her brain for being unable to recall what they were like together.

  Vague memories poked in her mind, and she scanned through them. She could hear herself asking him to take her. Pushing when he offered to leave. He had growled, more than once. She could guess what she’d been thinking when she woke up in his arms, safe and alive – that she was glad that he’d saved her and that she’d known even subconsciously that he was hers. And she was lonely. Achingly lonely. And tired of searching.

  How do you start a conversation that changes everything? Hey, Linus. Thanks for saving my life and what I’m sure was plenty of hot sex. By the way, I’m your true mate and we’re perfect for each other. So when can I move in here?

  Somehow that seemed crass. Perhaps she didn’t need to say anything. He would know that they were mates, and if he hadn’t figured it out yet then he’d figure it out pretty soon and then she could tell him everything.

  When she came out of the bathroom, she found the bed put back together and the room straightened. He must have been working furiously fast while she was cleaning up. The smell of bacon assaulted her nose as she walked out towards the kitchen that was attached to the family room they had woken up in, and found him standing at the stove in jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair was damp, so he clearly had another bathroom in his house and had taken a quick shower. Or she had taken a damn long one.

  He turned as if he could sense she’d come into the kitchen and gave her a smile. “Have a seat.” He gestured with a fork to the table that was set for two. Coffee in a pot on a coaster, milk and sugar, orange juice in small glasses. Adorable.

  She poured a cup of coffee for herself and fixed it with milk and sugar. “Thank you, Linus. For saving my life.”

  “I’m glad I found you. I hope breakfast for dinner is okay, I don’t do too much cooking. I’m mostly a grill kind of guy.” He smiled again and turned back to the stove.

  “Breakfast is great, thanks.”

  She took the quiet to peruse the man that had gotten to know her so well physically without knowing more than her name. Tall, over six feet, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist that spoke of good genes and discipline. Muscular but lean, a perfect combination. Strong jaw, straight nose, and powder blue eyes. She’d never seen eyes quite that color. So light, so pretty. His dark brown hair was short and tousled, the perfect length for grabbing and holding onto. She mentally patted her angel nature for picking out such a perfectly handsome man.

  It was damn hard not to think about sex around him. He looked like a man that didn’t know how sexy he was, and that made him even more irresistible. She tried to think of other things except him, so that her body didn’t start smelling like a horny teenager, but that didn’t work, so instead she concentrated on remembering the lyrics to Henry the Eighth. By the time she got to the tenth verse, he came to the table with a bowl of scrambled eggs with melted cheese, slices of thick cinnamon raisin toast, and crispy bacon.

  As he sat down, she said, “So it’s 8:30 at night, but it’s still Friday, right? I didn’t lose a whole day, did I?”

  “Yeah, it’s Friday. I found you around 1:30, maybe, by Fischer’s Creek.”

  “That’s good.” It had been 12:30 on Friday morning when her neighbor, Mrs. Beckinson, had banged on her door and begged her to help find little Jacques.

  “Was the dog yours?” He asked, a sad look on his face.

  “No. Dead, right?”

  He nodded. She told him the story, and he laughed at her self-deprecating humor. Only an idiot would run out into a blizzard to find a dog that had nipped and growled at her on more than one occasion.

  She looked out through the back sliding glass door to the snow that lay piled up high on the deck. “Is it pretty bad out there?”

  He looked disappointed for a second but then his face shifted to neutral, “City’s on lockdown for the next twenty-four hours at least, maybe forty-eight, depending on how fast Damsen can get their streets plowed and come here. Are you, do you have someone you need to call?”

  Aw, was that his roundabout way of asking if she had a boyfriend? “No, I live alone and my parents are in West Virginia. I don’t want to intrude on your life, Linus.”

  He snorted and took a bite of his eggs. “I don’t have much of a life, Karly, and that’s the damn truth. You’re the most exciting person to cross my doorstep, ever. I’m sorry, if you’re
ashamed of what happened between us. I won’t,” he sighed low and dropped his eyes, “I won’t touch you again, I promise.”

  She tapped her fork on the table until he looked at her. “Don’t be rash.”

  “But, I don’t want you to think that I, well, it wasn’t,” he stuttered and floundered and his face flushed a most adorable crimson. She’d never seen a shy wolf before. It was pretty easy to guess that he’d been burned before and was twitchy about probably everything about women.

  “Linus, Linus,” She put her fork down and reached over for his free hand and squeezed it, wanting to comfort him, “it’s okay. I mean I’m a little mortified because I didn’t remember your name, but I feel safe with you. And I’m not ashamed, I promise. I mean, unless you have a girlfriend or wife?”

  His eyes narrowed just slightly, “Ex wife, no girlfriend.”

  “Good. Well, I’m single, too,” painfully single, “and judging from all my hickeys and my aching joints, I’m guessing we had lots of fun and next time around I’d like to remember, okay?” She flashed a grin at him, and he laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders and his lips breaking into a smile.

  “Okay.” He smiled. Sweetheart. Funny, shy wolf.

  The quiet stretched for a few minutes while they ate and then he put his fork down suddenly. “I have to tell you something, and if I don’t I’m going to hate myself.”

  She put her fork down and folded her hands and waited, giving him an encouraging smile.

  “I’m a werewolf.” He said the words like they hurt his mouth. As if she might freak out at the mere thought. “You’re safe with me, I swear I won’t hurt you or anything, I just, I can’t pretend I’m human because I’m not entirely. And if you thought I was, I didn’t want you to think I kept it from you on purpose.”