Bonnie Vanak

Mated to the Wolf


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in here if you escape.”

      Her breath hitched. Samantha bit back a worried gasp. “You’re no ordinary Hunter. They don’t read minds.”

      Grayson smiled and stood. His shadow dipped over her. He was over six feet and muscled. She remembered his heavy weight atop her as he’d pinned her in the field. His erection riding the apex of her thighs. Her body tingled and warmth pooled between her legs.

      Samantha steeled herself and studied her captor. Not one to easily escape, but hell if she wouldn’t die trying. He was the only thing blocking her from the Hunter she needed to destroy.

      “I’m an Ancient. One of the hybrids whose powers enable us to track the darkest evil, and vanquish it.”

      Those broad shoulders shrugged. “I’m also an SWW, single white wolf who enjoys cooking venison stew, long walks on the beach in the moonlight, fine wine over dinner and I’m looking to bed a Single White Darklighter so she’ll stop ripping off the wings of Fae and searching for a certain Hunter to latch her talons into.”

      “Not latch. Destroy.” She stood, spilling the bowl. It clanged on the wood floor, the violent noise matching her inner turbulence.

      He bent over and picked it up, giving her full view of his backside. Denim stretched over his taut buttocks. Firm and muscled. A tingle raced through her veins, making her breasts suddenly aching and full.

      “Don’t think so. The Society has a thing about demons killing their Hunters.”

      “And I have a ‘thing’ about Jerome Cabot, the Hunter who murdered my parents.”

      His expression shuttered. “Your father was a demon with a hefty bounty on his scalp. He’d been warned not to mess with humans and ignored it.”

      “And my mother? She was an angel.” Samantha squeezed her fists. Blood seeped from her palms as her talons emerged, digging into soft flesh. Her powers were returning. The demon inside her emerged with fear. It roared for justice, craved for the kill.

      “A fallen angel, who failed at her mission to destroy your father. The Society banished her for breaking the laws.”

      “They fell in love! Is love against your laws, too?”

      “Mating a demon is, and she knew it, knew the consequences.” His rugged voice softened. “They were left alone until your father killed that human.”

      “That human butchered our neighbors and their children. They never hurt anyone. Our town was a little haven from crime until that killer came along!”

      “I know. But our laws are clear. Leave the justice for mortals. Your father stirred up a load of trouble when he took the law into his hands. He was warned not to interfere. He paid the price.”

      Grayson took a step closer, crowding her against the bed. “Maybe you forgot about the panic when the public found a corpse ripped to shreds and hanging upside down. Rumors started about demons and witches. Our world was nearly exposed, not to mention your father’s rage unleashed black magick on the town. It took a year before the darkness was expelled and by then, four houses were burned to the ground, ten divorces took place, a host of kids fell prey to drugs. That’s what your father’s rage did.”

      Troubled, she fell silent. She’d been blissfully ignorant of the happenings around her. Her mother had shielded them from it.

      “Did you ever pause to think that maybe your father’s nature drew that killer to the house next door?”

      “He changed when he married my mother. He wasn’t evil.”

      Grayson stepped closer, forcing her to sit on the bed. “Like attracts like, darkness attracts darkness. When he wasn’t playing house, he sacrificed animals to keep his power alive. It drew evil straight to the source and suddenly that nice small town wasn’t so nice anymore.”

      The venison stew in her stomach curdled. “It’s all lies.”

      He leaned over her, caging her with his arms on either side of her body. Warm breath tickled her cheek, smelling of mints and whiskey.

      “Sometimes we choose to ignore what our family does because it cuts too deep. But truth is truth.”

      Insight came as the white light inside her hummed, pushing aside her demon half. Samantha reached up with one hand, hovering above his marred cheek. “Is that what happened to you, Grayson? Did you get that scar from someone in your family cutting too deeply?”

      The Hunter yanked away, his mouth a narrow slash. “Keep out of my personal business, Samantha. This isn’t about me.”

      “You’re butting into mine.” Sensing Grayson’s weakness, the demon nudged aside the angelic half.

      “It’s my job. I’m a slave to duty. It’s what kept me ticking all these years.”

      The jeering sarcasm hid something. She wondered what evil he’d witnessed all his years on this earth, what tragedy of human misery and suffering. Compassion filled her. She wanted to touch him, soothe away the strain on his face.

      As she reached out, he jerked away. She dropped her hand with a shaky sigh. Getting close to this wolf was dangerous. He could derail her from keeping a sacred promise. No matter. Soon enough, she’d be on her way.

      Grayson’s expression shuttered. “It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

      Without saying anything, she went to the window, lifted the curtain. Freezing rain pelted the glass. She felt stronger, but the weather would wear her down fast.

      Samantha turned, saw him tug the shirt over his head, exposing a hard male chest darkened with springy hairs. Fascination spiraled through her as she stared at his well-defined pectorals and flat stomach rippling with muscles. Low in her belly, a strange tugging ensued.

      “What are you doing?” she demanded.

      “I always sleep naked.”

      Her breath caught in her throat as he unzipped his jeans, pulled them down. Commando. Crisp dark hairs surrounded a long, thick penis, impressive even at rest. She stared, transfixed.

      Grayson shrugged out of his pants. He regarded her, as comfortable in his nudity as a wolf in his skin. “Get undressed, Samantha. Now.”

      Chapter Three

      “No. I’d rather walk naked through a snowstorm than sleep with you, wolf.”

      Gray eyes the color of steel danced with amusement. “Did I say anything about sleep?”

      Samantha glared at him. “We are not having sex.”

      “Not now.” He gave another of those sexy, crooked smiles and went to a closet. He belted on a black robe. Samantha sighed in relief. Not that the view wasn’t nice but it was too damn distracting.

      Grayson snagged a white robe off a hanger and tossed it at her. “Get undressed and put this on. Your body is sore and has been through too much. You need a soak in the tub. A little pampering will help you relax.”

      After a week of tepid showers, the thought of a hot bath made her mouth water. Samantha eyed him warily. “Why are you interested in my welfare?

      “It’s not your welfare that has my interest, fair maiden.” He wagged his brows and she nearly laughed. Grayson was dangerously charming.

      When he left the bedroom, she remained, taking the opportunity to study her prison. The bedroom had pine furniture and lamps made from elk antlers. Blue-and-green checked curtains added to the masculine look. But when she tried opening a window, she found it jammed. Painted shut. Or warded with magick.

      Grayson returned. “Your bath is ready. I suggest you make good use of it while the water’s hot.”

      Since she was stuck here for now, the wolf obviously knew a bath would relax her when she needed to remain alert and sharp. The wolf was no dummy. But the temptation proved