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Loren didn’t say a word as she followed him down the trail leading from the cabin. Instead, she tried her hardest to take in every little detail of her surroundings—every potential route of escape.
Initially, she tried utilizing the tricks Bill taught her while meeting with the strange woman in the woods. Breathe. Close her eyes. Trust in her instinct.
But her instinct went to war with a growing sense of foreboding.
Run, a part of her whispered. After living around dangerous men for more than half her life, she liked to think that she was an expert at picking them out of a crowd—and Kyle displayed all the wrong signs.
How did that old saying go?If it walked like a duck and quacked like a duck…
Using that logic, Kyle’s aggressive stance and Sonia’s reaction to him all but proclaimed,quack!
You’re being paranoid, she tried to tell herself—but the thought didn’t make it any less apparent that she was alone with him in the middle of nowhere.
Massive trees loomed overhead, and a carpeting of thick foliage swallowed everything else. Endless green and a colorless sky were all she could see, stretching in every direction. Sonia’s house must have had its own generator because there wasn’t as much as a telephone pole around—nor any trace of modern technology. Nothing but the long road ahead that seemed to stretch on for miles.
Storm clouds gathered on the horizon, a darker shade of ebony against a slightly lighter sky. It was cold enough that snow was just as likely to fall from them as rain—not that Kyle seemed concerned by the threat of either. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket, but a T-shirt that showed off thick, solid muscle and, when they reached the point where Sonia’s thin, gravel road fed into a larger one, his strides took on a slow, almost leisurely pace.
“It’s one of the largest territories for miles,” he announced in a husky purr while eyeing every tall pine they passed. “Plenty of rogues would kill to get their hands on it.”
His boasting tone made that almost sound like agoodthing—as if the threat of conflict was somehow more important than the land itself. But there was that word again. One that seemed to have been tossed around almost as frequently as “Alpha” and “mate.”
“What makes someone a rogue?” Loren didn’t know what in the hell possessed her to speak up. Her voice was soft, rising barely above a whisper.
Good,a part of her murmured.Be meek. Let him think you’re not a threat.
“Rogues turn their backs on the pack way of life,” Kyle said without turning around. “They live inexile—what? McGoven didn’t tell you all about his sordid little past?”
When she didn’t answer, he whirled to face her and flashed a chilling smile that made the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. “Then, by all means, allowmeto do the honors.”
He paused in what Loren cynically figured was his way of adding a dramatic effect. Only a second later did his lips part to add, “Believe it or not, the dear and honorable Bill McGovenkilledsomeone.”
Ice washed over Loren as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped on her head. She faltered, nearly tripping over her own feet, but Kyle continued, unconcerned.
“Notliterally,of course,” he said, sounding disappointed about that fact. “But in our world, there’s no such thing as an ‘accident.’ There is only failure—and when it came to protecting his own mate, McGovenfailed. You didn’t think you were his first attempt at a mated life, did you?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No.Hername was Emma.”
His voice was strained as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, and Loren didn’t miss the flash of pain that shot through his eyes.
“She was beautiful. Of course, a boy scout like McGoven was drawn to her. But in the end, he killed her—I don’t give a damn what anyone else says. He let herdie.”
Die!The word hit the air like a blow just as several snowflakes began to drift down, glinting silver in the darkness.
“Your hero has more skeletons in his closet than you give him credit for,” Kyle added in a tone darker than the clouds up above. “Come on.”
He kept walking, leaving her no choice but to follow or be stranded.
She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she couldn’t name the point when the road ended, and civilization began. At least, as much “civilization” that one could find on a mountain in the middle of the wilderness.
Objectively, it looked like a logger’s camp, illuminated by a few streetlights and external lamps. The buildings were mostly made of wood, with a few simple ones made of aluminum siding scattered here and there. The structures were spread like a children’s toy set, haphazardly with no rhyme or reason—almost as if a new home or building sprung up whenever and wherever it was convenient.
The ones that weren’t close to the road were all connected by a slender maze of paths that twisted as intricately as a spider’s web. In the center, overlooking it all, was a grand building on a hill. It too, was made of wood, but nearly every inch of it sported elegant carvings. Four stories high, it dwarfed all other nearby buildings.
“The pack house,” Kyle explained, as they passed. “I bet you’ve never seen anything like that, before?”
Despite the taunt at her expense, Loren had to shake her head. Even the courthouse—New Walsh’s tallest building—didn’t look half as grand. From this distance, she could make out snarling faces carved into the two, massive wooden columns that supported the roof on either end—howling wolves.
“Come on.”
She struggled to keep up as Kyle led her right through the makeshift town. They didn’t run into very many people, but the few they did see were dressed in warm jackets and hats against the cold. None of them spoke, choosing to eye them warily instead.
