Page 10 of Kidnapped by the Wolf (Gold Creek Wolves)

CHAPTER TEN

CASSIE

The sun is already low in the sky by the time Adrian pulls up. I took a long shower after he left and examined my busted ukulele to see if there was any hope of fixing it. There wasn’t. Then I had a snack and combed through every drawer, closet, and cupboard in the place.

All I managed to learn is that Adrian is fastidiously clean, that he has a thing for merino wool socks, and that he prefers boxer briefs over traditional boxers. I wouldn’t normally snoop through someone’s house this way, but since Adrian kidnapped me and has given me no option other than to live with his pack forever, I felt it was important to know who I was dealing with.

I’m just starting to get hungry again when I hear him speaking with someone outside — presumably relieving Remy of guard duty. Then I hear footsteps outside the front door and busy myself with filling the kettle.

I already know that Adrian keeps a box of earl gray on the second shelf above the coffee maker, but I make a show of rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, stretching up on tiptoe to grab the tea just as he walks in.

Adrian stops inside the doorway, and I strain my neck to look over my shoulder. He’s staring at me like a jackal that’s caught the scent of another animal’s kill, and his eyes are flecked with gold.

His gaze tracks down my ribs to my toes and back up again. That’s when I remember that I’m wearing his T-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants. Everything is enormous on me, of course, but I made do by rolling down the waistband of the sweats.

“Oh. I, uh . . . helped myself to some clean clothes,” I explain. “My other ones were getting a bit ripe.”

Serves him right. If he didn’t want me borrowing his stuff, he should have brought me some out of my bus.

Adrian’s throat bobs as he swallows. He gives a jerky half nod and stalks into the kitchen, a bag of groceries in his arms.

I watch in silence as he starts unloading the food: three enormous ribeye steaks, baking potatoes, vegetables, and a bottle of red wine.

“Are you . . . expecting someone?” I ask, eyeing the extra steak.

“No.” His tone is clipped and a bit ragged, and I get the sudden paranoid inkling that he knows I went through his stuff.

“Oh. Okay . . .” I trail off awkwardly and rock back on my heels, fiddling with the box of tea.

So much for our talk this morning. Despite his being a total psycho and holding me hostage in his cabin, I really felt as though we connected earlier. His offer to make me part of his pack had seemed genuine, at least. Well, genuinely insane .

His movements are stiff and jerky as he pulls open a drawer and grabs a potato peeler. He keeps his back to me as he washes the vegetables and starts shaving the potato skins into the sink.

“Is something wrong?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. There’s definitely something wrong with him keeping me here against my will, but I can tell that his mood has shifted since this morning.

“No.” His voice is hoarse — almost pained.

The room fills with the sound of him peeling potatoes, but then he stops and grips the edge of the sink.

“I know you’re not familiar with our ways, but since you may soon be living among wolves, you should know that there is nothing casual about an unmated female wearing a male’s clothes.”

At those words, my whole body tightens, and a hot flush spreads from my cheeks all the way down to my chest.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer, looking at my feet. “I didn’t —”

“I know,” Adrian murmurs, his triceps flexing as he grips the sink.

He turns so quickly that I jump and automatically back into the counter. The alpha follows like the predator he is, the darkness in his eyes melting away until they’re glowing bright gold.

Fuck.

My heart leaps as he presses closer, crowding me against the counter and placing a hand on either side of my hips.

I suck in a breath, but all I smell is him. He smells like pine trees, sandalwood, and citrus. It’s the same fragrance that clings to the T-shirt I’m wearing, and I have to stop myself from inhaling deeper.

“Seeing you in my clothes,” he rasps, breath tickling my hair. “You don’t know what it does to me.”

My channel tightens at the strain in his voice, and warm wetness seeps from between my legs. My fingers are itching to touch his forearm, which is covered in fine golden hairs.

“Tell me,” I whisper, surprised and horrified at my own boldness.

What the hell am I doing?

I chance a glance down, and my mouth goes dry when I see the hard bar of his erection straining against his jeans. I may be ignorant about wolves, but I’ve spent enough time around males — both human and shifter — to know what Adrian’s getting at.

He doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he lifts his hand, and I gasp as he plunges it into my hair. Strong fingers rake against my scalp, gently pushing my head back until I’m staring into his molten gaze.

“Seeing you in my clothes, strutting around my house . . . It makes me want to get you naked and fuck you right here on this counter.” He leans forward to whisper in my ear, and I glimpse the slight upturn of his lips. “It makes me want to spread your legs and see if you taste as good as you smell.”

My jaw drops. My heart is pounding somewhere in my throat, and my face is burning hotter than a forest fire.

But then his fingers retract from my hair, and he takes a step back to give me space.

I’m immediately aware of the nagging ache between my thighs, and my nipples are so hard I’m sure he can see them pressing through the thin T-shirt.

“I-I’ll just . . . change back into my clothes.”

A low growl rumbles up Adrian’s chest, and he fixes me with an admonishing look.

I watch in stunned silence as he crosses to the washing machine hidden behind a chic barn door. He opens the lid and reaches inside, pulling out my wet laundry.

At first I think he’s going to transfer my clothes to the dryer, but then he scoops them up, walks to the door, and dumps them out into the snow.

When he turns to face me, his expression is wolfish. “As long as you’re staying with me, you will wear my clothes or nothing at all.”

Heat surges to my aching center, and I squeeze my legs together.

The fighter in me wants to lift my chin and tell him to go fuck himself. But there’s another, slightly unhinged part of me that likes the alpha ordering me around.

I’m not sure what that says about me. Adrian is my captor and a cocky son of a bitch. But even though he’s the enemy — and a dangerous one at that — I can no longer deny that I’m drawn to him like an insect to a carnivorous plant.

Since I don’t trust myself to tell him off, I reach for the discarded peeler and pick up a potato. “I’ll . . . get these ready.”

“I’ll go start the grill.”

We don’t speak again until I’ve whipped up some mashed potatoes and the scent of charred meat is drifting in through a crack in the sliding-glass door. It should feel strange preparing a meal with my captor, but for some reason, it doesn’t.

I try to ignore Adrian as he moves around me in the kitchen, reaching over my shoulder for some plates and brushing my hip as he goes for the utensils, but I can’t control the way my body responds to his intoxicating masculine scent.

It doesn’t help that I know exactly what he looks like without a shirt. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop picturing him in those boxer briefs I discovered earlier.

Stop it , I tell myself sternly. I cannot be attracted to an alpha wolf.

Following Adrian out onto the deck, I’m stunned when I see his setup. Outdoor heaters flank a wooden table set for two. There’s a glass of wine for each of us, and the open bottle is in the middle of the table next to a flickering candle.

He’s set this up as though we’re on a date, but that’s not where this evening is headed. We’re supposed to discuss Adrian’s proposal — the one where I stay in Gold Creek and become part of his pack.

If someone had told me the alpha of the Gold Creek wolves would be offering me a place to stay — and a way out from under Clint’s thumb — I’d have said they were out of their mind. But after spending the last two days with Adrian, I get the feeling that he’s serious.

His offer is complicated by this bizarre attraction I feel toward him — and the way his wolf responded to seeing me in his clothes. Even though I know his reaction is just a territorial alpha thing, I can’t deny that it turned me on.

Not that this could ever actually go anywhere. Eventually, Adrian will need to claim a mate, and he won’t choose some lowly human. He’ll pick a well-bred, dominant she-wolf so he can produce dominant pups.

For some reason, the idea of him giving some hypothetical female his mark rankles me — even more once I glimpse Adrian’s gold-flecked eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

He’s added the steaks and grilled vegetables to my contribution of mashed potatoes. As soon as he picks up his utensils and begins to eat, I understand why he bought three steaks instead of two.

We eat in silence for several minutes, me carefully cutting my meat into little pieces as Adrian wolfs down his second ribeye. The meat is cooked to perfection, and the grilled vegetables are delightfully caramelized.

I’m guessing the alpha’s taste in wine is on point, too, so I pick up my glass and give it a sniff. The fruity aroma makes my mouth water. I decide there’s no reason for Adrian to poison me, so I take a sip.

“I’m sorry you had to spend the whole day cooped up in the cabin,” Adrian rumbles.

“It was fine,” I say, swilling the glass. “It felt good to have a real shower for a change.”

The words leave my mouth before I have a chance to consider them, and I instantly wish I could stuff them back in.

Adrian’s brows scrunch together, and I can practically see his gears turning. “Does your bathroom at home not have a shower?”

“No,” I say in an offhand voice, taking another swig of my wine. “Though not many VW buses are equipped with showers.”

He blinks. “You live in a Volkswagen bus?”

“I have been,” I admit, setting down my wine before I do something really unclassy, like down the rest in one gulp. “I . . . left my father’s pack back in July, and I haven’t been able to get my own place yet.”

I don’t mention that settling down would make it too easy for Dane to find me.

Adrian seems to forget all about his second steak, holding his knife in a white-knuckled grip. “You left Clint’s pack?”

Shit. There goes what little value I had. Now he’s going to know that my father couldn’t give two shits about what happens to me.

I nod.

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

I sigh and cast around for an answer that doesn’t make it sound as though I’ve been the pack’s punching bag for the last twenty-five years. “I guess I just got tired of the way they all looked at me…like I shouldn’t be there because I was human.”

A muscle ticks in Adrian’s jaw. So much for not sounding pathetic.

“What made you decide to join the marines?” I ask, going back to my steak in a desperate attempt to take the focus off of me.

He clears his throat, frowning. “It’s not as if I had a ton of other choices.”

“Really? I would have thought an alpha had a lot of options.”

“Not when —” He breaks off, looking into the distance, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable talking about his past. “I didn’t have a great start in life. I never knew my biological mother, and the woman who raised me . . . Well, she had problems. I’m not really sure how she got hooked up with my old man, but it wasn’t a good match.”

“They got a divorce?”

He shakes his head. “They were never married. He left after he knocked her up the first time. That’s when he got together with my mom and had me. When she left, I guess he didn’t want to deal with raising a pup on his own, so he went back to the first woman he left high and dry. He was an alcoholic, and when he drank, he got violent. My older brother — half-brother — took the worst of it, but sometimes he would hit me, too.”

My stomach sours at the thought of a young Adrian, trapped in a household with an abusive alcoholic father.

“I’m sorry.” The words taste flimsy on my tongue. It’s a stupid thing to say, but I don’t have anything better to offer. I know all too well what it’s like to be unwanted. “And your half-brother . . . Is he a shifter, too?”

He nods.

“How did you end up alpha of the Gold Creek pack?”

Adrian chews on the inside of his cheek, as though considering my question. “Most people think that wolves are born alphas, but I don’t think that’s true.”

“You mean you weren’t born dominant?”

“Dominance isn’t what makes an alpha, though most alphas are dominant. What makes an alpha is the urge to protect — to defend what’s his at all costs.”

Adrian holds my gaze with those gold-flecked eyes, and liquid heat pools in my stomach. “I don’t think my brother and I became alphas until we were driven to it — until he had to protect me from the man who sired us. I don’t think it happened for me until my first deployment, watching my brothers in arms get blown up and shot at.”

An icy fist squeezes my heart, and I have the sudden urge to reach across the table and take Adrian’s hand in mine.

He clears his throat. “When I finally got out of my father’s house, I went into the marines like Eli. Figured I could at least make something of myself. After my first tour, I got an offer from a private military company. I worked for them for a few years before the organization shut down. Politics.” He rolls his eyes. “The new administration decided the optics weren’t good, so the powers that be gave me a nice severance package, dissolved the company, and told me to keep my mouth shut. That’s when I came back here.”

“And they made you alpha?”

Adrian lifts an eyebrow. “It doesn’t work that way. Wolves can sense who among them is most dominant. If there’s ever a dispute, the two will usually fight until one wolf yields. In the case of Gold Creek, however, none of the other dominant wolves had any desire to lead.” He pulls a wry smile that makes my stomach flutter. “Eli didn’t get much of a choice in the matter. After we killed Marcus, the leader of the Red Feather Lake pack, the other alphas voted to have Eli take over that territory.”

“And do you . . . enjoy it? Being alpha, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes. “Honestly? Most days I feel like I’m mother hen to a bunch of unruly teenagers.”

I can’t help it. I laugh.

The sound seems to shatter the tension that Adrian carries around like a well-worn jacket, and he breaks into a grin. I realize this is the first time I’ve seen him actually smile, and damn, what a smile it is.

Adrian’s canines are ever so slightly crooked, but in a way that only adds to his good looks. Little crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes, and the rumble of his chuckle makes my insides hum deliciously.

Seeing him smile, I don’t want him to stop, but then his eyebrows shoot up. “That reminds me. Hang on a sec . . .”

He leaps out of his seat and heads for the steps, disappearing into the darkness. When he returns, I see he’s clutching something in his hands, though it’s too dark to make out any details.

Then he steps into the light, and I realize what it is. Adrian’s cradling a shiny new ukulele, and my heart stops beating.

“I got you a new one, since Sebastian broke yours,” he says, kneeling down in front of my chair and presenting me with the instrument.

The body looks like solid mahogany, but there’s no brand name visible through the sound hole — just the outline of a wolf howling on a mountaintop branded into the wood. The fret markers are mother-of-pearl inlay in the shape of the different moon phases, and a design of wolves running through pine trees is carved into the body.

“These are handmade here in Colorado,” Adrian murmurs, looking suddenly nervous. “It took me a while to track this one down.”

“It’s . . .” I trail off, running my thumb over one of the strings, completely at a loss for words.

This is, without a doubt, the most beautiful instrument I’ve ever held. It’s more than I deserve.

I know immediately that I can’t accept it. Taking an instrument this fine as a replacement for my secondhand Makala feels like accepting Adrian’s offer to stay in Gold Creek.

The alpha’s gaze flickers to mine, and he looks . . . nervous. “Dammit. It’s not the right size.”

“No, no.” I shake my head. “It’s perfect. It’s a concert, just like my other one, and . . .” I struggle to find the words, but “thank you” just isn’t enough. “No one has ever given me something this nice.”

My cheeks heat as I say the words, and a fierce look rises in Adrian’s eyes.

“I can’t accept it,” I say finally, bringing my hands together as if that will somehow keep me from wanting to pick up and play the beautiful instrument.

Adrian fixes me with a stern look. “It’s yours. No strings attached.”

My mouth twitches at the pun, and Adrian’s eyes soften. Did the alpha just make a joke?

Hands shaking, heart bursting, I reach for the ukulele. The neck is perfectly smooth and comfortable in my hands. The person who sold it to Adrian must have tuned it for him, because when I ghost my thumb across the strings, four perfect notes ring out.

“The sound is incredible,” I murmur, strumming out a few chords I know. “I-I don’t deserve this. I’m not even very good.”

Adrian shakes his head once, the warmth evaporating from his gaze. “You deserve the best, Cassie. Don’t ever let anyone tell you any different.”

His words make my stomach do a backflip, and it feels as though I skipped a step going down a flight of stairs.

I draw in a ragged breath, trying to summon the courage for what I know I have to tell him. “You should know . . . Sebastian didn’t break my ukulele.”

“Oh, no?”

I shake my head. “I used it to bludgeon him in self-defense. So technically, I guess he did break it . . . with his face.”

Adrian’s mouth twitches once, and then a hard laugh bursts out of him. It’s not a chuckle or a perfunctory reaction to my joke. It’s a full-belly laugh that makes every inch of me tingle, and I realize I like making Adrian laugh.

After a moment, his laughter fades, and his gaze softens again. “Play something for me.”

“What do you want to hear?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve never been big on music. I just want to hear you play.”

Hands shaking, I try to steady my breathing as I strum out the first few bars of “Moonshadow.” The familiar tune calms my racing heart, but then I stop and look at him. “Why did you do this?”

Adrian frowns. “I thought we already established that Sebastian broke your ukulele with his face.”

“No, I mean . . .” I gesture around at the wine and food. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Cassie, I fed you and gave you a couch to sleep on. If that’s your standard for ‘nice’ then we really need to adjust your expectations.”

I open my mouth and then close it again. My chest feels suddenly much too tight, and I can feel tears burning in my throat.

“What is it?” Adrian asks.

I shake my head. “N-nothing.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean —”

“No,” I choke, furious and embarrassed that he noticed my reaction.

Adrian’s right. I’m pathetic. I’ve grown so used to being treated like dirt that I don’t trust it when someone is nice.

I shouldn’t trust Adrian, and yet I do. My stupid heart wants this, and that’s a weakness I never let show.

But then he reaches across the table, his warm fingers brushing my cheek. His calloused forefinger comes to rest along my jaw as he cups my face in his hand. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I whisper, fighting the urge to shrink back and instead staring him in the eye.

Big mistake. His chocolate irises have turned to pure liquid gold, and the way he’s looking at me . . .

Fuck. He’s looking at me as though I hung the moon and stars.

“Don’t you ever try to make yourself less than what you are,” he growls, and my whole body prickles with the force of his command. “You’ve been doing it for years, and to be honest, it’s making me want to hunt down every male in your pack and kill them for making you feel like you don’t deserve this .”

We both know he isn’t talking about the ukulele.

The sorry truth is that these last few days I’ve been his hostage, Adrian’s treated me better than Dane ever did.

A few stray tears roll down my cheeks, and I hurriedly wipe them away. My heart stutters, and a dangerous feeling wells up inside me. It expands every second Adrian holds my gaze with those honey-colored eyes, and suddenly, I can no longer contain it.

I burst out of my seat, and my hands go to Adrian’s shoulders as I press my lips against his.

For one horrible, unending moment, the alpha just sits there, frozen. But then his hands encircle my waist, and he pulls me into his lap.