Rosko, Mandy - Mate of the Wolf (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Mate of the Wolf

  Shelley just wanted to get out of the city and relax by a campfire. She’s pretty sure that has nothing to do with getting kidnapped by a werewolf, who happens to be getting stalked by a vampire princess who's out to skin him for his rare silver pelt. And they say show business is tough.

  Michael Hunter has found his Mate after years of solitude and months of self-induced exile. He's the alpha of his pack, and his duty is their protection. With a vampire hunting him, things have gotten tricky, and it’s not so safe for those he's charged with caring for. But now another person needs him, whether she knows it or not. Shelley is his mate, and he wants to keep her hidden with him. But when the vampire in question finds his hiding place, Michael is forced to make some hard choices.

  Genre: Paranormal, Romantic Suspense, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 21,265 words

  MATE OF THE WOLF

  Mandy Rosko

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  MATE OF THE WOLF

  Copyright © 2011 by Mandy Rosko

  E-book ISBN: 1-61034-208-9

  First E-book Publication: March 2011

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Mate of the Wolf by Mandy Rosko from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Mandy Rosko’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Rosko’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to the ladies, and gentleman, of ORWA, who took me in and taught me all about e-publishing. Thank you J

  MATE OF THE WOLF

  MANDY ROSKO

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter One

  Shelley Star shifted awake before her eyes opened. She stretched, then froze. Something was wrong. Her air mattress was scratchy, grimy, and damp. Dirt, leaves, and grass.

  A twig snapped. Pinecones crunched beside her head as she moved.

  Shelley’s eyes flew open.

  She was face-to-dick with the biggest penis she’d ever seen. She screamed. The shriek flew into the sky and shook the birds from their nests and probably woke up all the critters in their little holes, too. She tried to scramble away, but her stiff limbs weren’t as fast as her attacker, who came awake when she stupidly opened her mouth.

  Large hands whipped out, cobra fast, and wrapped around her face, holding her mouth shut by squeezing her jaw. Hurting her. Oh God, any more pressure and the bones there were going to crack. Shelley’s scream turned into a wail of pain and blood-pumping terror. She scratched at his wrists and arms, but there was no loosening of his grip.

  With the sun directly behind him, the figure was as black as a shadow in an alley at night. Even if she managed to get away, she could never give a description to the police.

  He was going to kill her. Rape her first, then kill her. No, beat her, rape her, and then kill her. She was dead, dead, dead!

  “How did you get here? Who are you?” the figure demanded in a deep rumble. He shook her a little when she didn’t answer.

  Must have forgotten he was holding her mouth shut. Tears leaked from Shelley’s eyes. She moaned—a pitiful noise under his big hands—and shook her head as much as she could.

  His giant fingers slipped away from her mouth slowly, as though realizing his mistake. A flood of warmth hit her over the spot where his hands had been, blood returning to her jaw and lips. An unpleasant tingling followed. Though, she couldn’t pay much attention to that as Crazy-Guy’s hands moved to either side of her head. His naked body remained mostly on top of hers. She got the message—he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Don’t be scared. I’m sorry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  His soothing voice and gentle words didn’t bring her any peace. That was what all serial killers said. She was sure of it. They said it to lure their victims into a false sense of security right before they killed them, chopped them into little bitty pieces, and used those pieces for fertilizer.

  Shelley coughed out a petrified sob and squeezed her legs shut. Like that would work, with those muscles of his. If he really wanted, he could force them back open again.

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.

  How did she even get here? Where was she? And what was she doing alone in the woods with this man?

  “Are you injured? Do you have any cuts? Or animal scratches? Here, I’ll check.”

  No time to think!

  His large hands went to feel and touch her body, and Shelley’s knee flew up in response. Like a rocket blasting off skyward, it crashed into his groin.

  His breath whooshed from his throat. His body spilled weakly overtop of hers. Shelley flattened her hands against his bare chest and pushed.

  The man rolled off her and crumpled in on himself, coughing and holding his hurting flesh with both hands like he was afraid it would fall off. Shelley jumped to her feet before he could rise up and kicked one leg in front of the other in a clumsy race for her life.

  Find the road. Find the road.

  Twigs, leaves, and heavy branches from low trees slapped and scratched her face, but she didn’t stop. She took a few pine needles in the mouth and stepped over rocks so
sharp she felt them through her shoes, but that didn’t hinder her either.

  She would find the road. Where the road was there would also be a car. She was going to stop it and get the driver to take her somewhere, anywhere, just so long as she could call the cops. Then she would go home, sink into her soaker tub, stay there for forty-eight hours, and never think about this ever again.

  A heavy force knocked her forward, and she fell down, down, down into the leaves, pine needles, and sticks. She tried to rise, but a huge weight on her back kept her immobile.

  That man was behind her, on top of her again, pinning her. Shelley’s shriek made her own lungs vibrate.

  The large hand returned to her mouth, yanking her back and pressing her into his chest.

  “Listen!” he hissed, snarling into her ear. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t make a move unless I say, and don’t make a sound unless I say. Do you understand?”

  Her pounding heart and the pine needles stabbing her hands disrupted her thought process, but she did indeed understand. She nodded.

  “Good. I want you to stay still and stay very quiet because I’m going to move my hand.” He did as he said he would do.

  Shelley gasped through her mouth and fought to breathe properly through choked words. “Please let me go. I won’t say anything to anyone. Just let me go.” Even to her own ears, she sounded like she’d witnessed a mob hit. Not good if she wanted him to release her.

  Thoughts of a time, back home, when it had been discovered that a man had been prowling around outside her house, taking pictures through her windows, flashed through her brain. But he had been caught before she even knew of the threat.

  Last she’d heard, however, his prison had been minimum security that consisted mostly of therapy and locked doors rather than iron bars and barbed wire fences.

  Still, if he had been released, or escaped, she would have been informed. So who was this man?

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Please let me go.” She could barely see through her tears. He wouldn’t let her go, she knew it. Her fists clenched into the needles on the ground, but even though they pierced her fingers, she couldn’t unclench her hands. She was dead.

  Shelley let out a tiny shriek when he gripped her upper arms and his blunt fingertips dug into her flesh.

  “What are you doing out here?” He repeated the words as though through a clenched jaw.

  “I—I…I was hiking.” That’s right. She remembered now. Her agent had suggested it. Had said the country air away from the city and everyone who knew her name would be good for her, and ultimately, her career as well.

  So much for that advice.

  Shelley recalled the drive, nothing but her, the highway, and her loud stereo spilling Shania Twain for hours until she passed out of California State and into Washington, then just a little farther until she found the right spot. She’d set up a tent rather than rent a cabin. She’d been excited for that part, especially since she’d never done real camping before.

  She had found and placed large stones to make a fire pit before inhaling the pine-scented air in a deep sucking motion and feeling more relaxed than she ever remembered. She had thought coming out here was the best thing she’d ever done for herself.

  Then a deep, animal rumble had sounded behind her. She’d spun and dropped the tin kettle she’d been holding and gasped.

  A gray wolf. A bundle of murdering muscles with shaggy fur and pointed teeth stood just inside her clearing, golden eyes staring at her.

  Shelley hadn’t known what to do. It shouldn’t have even been there at all. She didn’t know a lot about camping, but she’d researched and made sure all her food was kept in airtight containers to keep the animals away. But one was here now and looking right at her. Should she be still? Play dead? Or try and scare it away with loud noises?

  The wolf had decided for her by lunging.

  Shelley had grabbed a stick from her fire pit and swung the heavy log like a bat. She’d hit her target in the muzzle and the wolf had cried out as it went down.

  Shelley made a similar pained sound as the fire that had been eating away at her weapon licked her hand. She’d dropped the stick without meaning to just as the wolf turned its glowing eyes back to her.

  Shelley had turned tail and run like the Flash.

  She didn’t remember anything else up to waking up with this dangerous, naked stranger on top of her. Guess she wasn’t Flash material.

  Comparatively, Shelley would rather be eaten alive than raped and murdered in the woods.

  “Hiking.” He repeated her answer. “Did you come across any animals? A wolf?”

  She turned her head as much as possible, trying to stare up into his face. She still couldn’t make out any features because of the damn morning sun, and craning her neck like that hurt. “How,” she swallowed and sniffed, “how did you know?”

  “God.” He groaned as if in pain, like she’d kneed him in the balls all over again. His large hands went under her shirt and moved to lift it off.

  Shelley shrieked and tried to punch his hands away, but it was awkward because he was still behind her. She kicked and twisted and screamed, but he was too heavy to be thrown off.

  He pressed his palm into her back, pushing her into the dirt and making it all the harder for her to hit him. “Stop it! I said I’m not going to hurt you.” His harsh voice became softer toward the end of his sentence.

  She didn’t believe him. “Don’t rape me. Please, I have money, lots of it. I’ll give you as much as you want.”

  He turned her over but didn’t move to get off her. Though she still couldn’t make out his features that well, hills high into his hairline suggested raised brows.

  “Rape you? I swear I’d never—what made you think that?”

  She couldn’t contain herself. “You are naked, on top of me, and trying to take my clothes off, you bastard!”

  “Jesus, lady!” he hissed, rubbing one of his ears with his palm.

  She inwardly relished it. Good. She hoped she gave him permanent hearing damage.

  His hands went palm down on the ground on both sides of her head, not seemingly bothered by the pine needles pricking him. It was a reminder of who was large and in charge as he leaned in close. “I’m only trying to see if you have any bites or scratches on you. This isn’t sexual.”

  “Why are you naked then?” she demanded, though it didn’t sound as strong as she wanted with her shaky breath.

  He sighed. “I can’t answer that, but I promise it has nothing to do with assaulting women in the woods.”

  She didn’t believe him.

  He must have seen that. “I’ll only lift your shirtsleeves. How ’bout that? You can check everywhere else on your own, and I won’t take off your clothes. But if you fight me on this, I’ll tie you to one of these trees and strip you naked so I can see for myself.”

  She totally believed that. His hard voice gave no indication he was joking. Shelley let her body go slack.

  He breathed a sigh. “Okay, I won’t hurt you.” His hands were gentle on her wrist, not gripping too hard or digging his fingernails into her skin. He used his other hand to lift the sleeve of her thin pink shirt.

  She’d worn something with sleeves because she didn’t want too much skin exposed to the blood-sucking insects, and it was thin enough and made of that breathing material so she didn’t sweat all over the place in the heat. Now, she wished she were wearing a tank top instead so he could perform his little search with his eyes.

  Ugh, never mind. Just the thought of a strange, naked man’s eyes roaming over her gave her the chills.

  Wait a minute. That was right, her arms were covered. There was no way she could have cut or scratched herself against the trees while she ran. And if that wolf had bitten her, the wound would have bled right through her clothes.

  What was he really doing?

  “Relax. You’re tense. You’re working yourself up,” he said, lifting the sleeve of
her other arm.

  She could see his eyes now, which was strange because she was still blind to the rest of his face because of that damn sun. They were flashing, bright enough that she could make out their gray—no, silver—color. Was it even possible for eyes to do that?

  Didn’t matter. Those silver eyes were extremely focused, as if he didn’t dare miss an inch of her flesh.

  “What do you think I’m hiding?” she asked.

  His eyes met hers, glistening brighter than ever. “You have scratches on your neck.”

  Her hand went to the spot. A sting of pain flared. It wasn’t wet but a little sticky. Blood, but not much. “It must’ve been from the tree branches when I was running.” From both the wolf and later him, no doubt.

  If he thought she didn’t notice how he didn’t answer her question, he was so wrong. She tried to move, to put distance between their bodies. His hand took her wrist and gripped it like an iron shackle.

  “Let me go,” she said.

  He didn’t blink. She could tell his face remained steady because the deep shadows blocking him from her didn’t move. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  Shelley tensed, panic rising inside her. “You’re sorry?”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t let you go.”

  One of his muscled arms reached under her knees, and the other wrapped around her back before she fully understood his words.

  And his actions.

  He hoisted her into the air and onto his shoulder. The ground blurred, and the wind rushed in her ears like someone was blowing in them nonstop.