Page 5 of Kidnapped by the Wolf (Gold Creek Wolves)

CHAPTER FIVE

ADRIAN

The moment I feel the cold draft slip from under the bathroom door, I know I was right about Cassie. The little human was playing me, and I fell right into her trap.

For half a second, I consider letting her escape. Then at least I wouldn’t have to decide what to do with her.

One look at the beautiful female, and I knew I didn’t have it in me to hurt her. Not that my wolf would allow it. For whatever reason, my beast feels protective of Cassie.

It would be easier to let her go.

But then I think about Marcus’s victims — the she-wolves he forced into breeding. Marcus paid the McGregor bears for every female they brought in. Clint McGregor might not have raped those females, but he profited from their suffering.

The bastard shouldn’t be allowed to live. At the very least, I should run him and his bears out of Colorado.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I’ve crossed to the bathroom and flung the door wide open.

Cassie’s perfect ass is level with my face — just a few wiggles away from being out the window and gone from my life forever. Her bare feet are dangling over the toilet, and her boots are hanging by the laces from her neck.

I have the sudden bizarre urge to laugh, but then that rich incense-and-rain scent hits me all over again, and my wolf makes a sound I’ve never heard from him before.

A rumble works its way up my own chest, and one word rings in my head louder than anything else: mine .

The thought nearly knocks me sideways, but I shove it down and barrel into the room. Cassie squeals as I grab her around the legs, her fingernails scraping at the window ledge as she tries to pull herself up and out.

I give a hard tug, and she lets go — sending us both careening into the towel bar.

My head hits the wall behind it just as her perfect denim-clad ass crashes into my face. The towel bar jerks free from the drywall, and we go down.

Cassie’s fingernails scrape across my face as she struggles to get free.

As I shift my weight to subdue her, something primal awakens inside me, and I have the sudden urge to flip her over, pin her down, and sink my teeth into her flesh.

It’s such a crazy desire that I freeze for a moment, my wolf reeling with the urge to mark her.

Fuck .

As an alpha, dominance is innate. The impulse is heightened whenever there’s a threat to my pack or someone is stupid enough to challenge me directly. The need to dominate also spikes whenever I’m aroused, but I’ve never had the urge to mark a female — to claim her as my own.

I’m still shaking myself out of the weird compulsion when Cassie’s foot flies out of nowhere and connects with the bridge of my nose. Pain radiates out from the center of my face, and my wolf surges forward.

Gone is the restraint of the tightly wound marine who would train for hours in the pouring rain and never show a flicker of emotion, even when I was called in as a private military contractor to do some truly awful shit. Gone is the discipline and control — the finely honed knife’s edge I’m forced to walk as alpha to protect my pack.

In an instant, my animal takes over, and Cassie’s intoxicating scent washes over me. Her lush, smoky fragrance mixes with the musk of feminine arousal, and my wolf snaps his leash.

Mine .

The word ricochets through my head again as a rush of desire hits me. The bitter taste of venom spills onto my tongue, and I feel a prickle of pain in my gums as my fangs descend.

My gaze drifts to the soft valley of golden skin where Cassie’s neck meets her shoulder. It would be so easy to brush back those ebony waves and sink my teeth into her flesh, forever impregnating her with my scent.

Cassie’s fist shoots out, but I catch her wrist and pin it to the floor. She bucks her hips, but I hold her down, watching the little human writhe. That sweet scent of arousal intensifies, which I find both baffling and sexy as hell.

Her dark eyes narrow in a piercing glare, and it’s all I can do not to claim her right here on the bathroom floor.

But then she bares her teeth in a truly impressive imitation of a shifter, and I’m reminded of who she is: daughter of Clint McGregor.

Cassie isn’t just any female. She’s the human offspring of my enemy. She’s also my greatest bargaining chip — my only shot at preventing an all-out war between the McGregors and my wolves.

Somehow, that last piece of logic is enough to break through my animal haze of lust and need. It’s enough to subdue my wolf.

For an alpha, the need to dominate is outweighed only by the urge to protect.

Protect the pack at all costs.

I release Cassie and rock back on my heels, giving her a chance to sit up. Her chest heaves as she catches her breath, and her skin is enticingly flushed.

The woman threw a punch at an alpha wolf, and she looks as though she could go another three rounds. My little human is something else.

I tamp down the thought before it can take hold.

Cassie isn’t my anything. She can’t be. The stakes are much too high.

“So I’m guessing it’s not your . . . special time of the month?” I rumble, unable to control my slight grimace.

Cassie shoots me a glare and gives a huffy growl, scrambling to her feet and storming out of the bathroom.

A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth, and I follow her into the main area of the cabin. Giving me her back, she plops down at the table and begins wolfing down the sandwich I made for her earlier.

It’s a power move — one she can’t be unaware of if she grew up among shifters.

For a moment, I just stand there watching. I have no idea why my wolf reacted the way he did. Maybe I need to get laid.

Yet through all my deployments — all the months spent in Iraq and Afghanistan with only a bunch of sweaty men for company — I never let myself get wound so tight that I thought of mating the first woman I saw.

Then again, Cassie isn’t just any female.

As I watch her go to town on that turkey sandwich, all my blood rushes south. Immediately, my soldier is standing at attention.

It’s not just that Cassie is beautiful, though she certainly is. It’s her scent. Her defiance. The fire blazing in her veins. It’s the sheer balls of thinking she could outsmart a wolf — then throwing a punch when she realized she was cornered.

Usually, that sort of arrogance would piss off my wolf. And yet there’s something about Cassie that has him growling with the need to protect her. Claim her.

Fuck . Why did Sebastian bring her here?

It takes me a few deep breaths to get ahold of myself — and deflate my massive erection. No matter how much I don’t want to treat Cassie like a hostage, I can’t afford to let her escape.

Clearing my throat, I come around the table and look down at her like she’s some boot fresh out of basic training.

She meets my gaze with an arch of her eyebrow, and my wolf’s hackles go up.

I can’t tell if he’s pissed or if he wants to play. There’s no shifter idiotic enough to stare down an alpha who’s as worked up as I am, but damn if Cassie doesn’t hold my gaze.

I grit my teeth and drag in a breath, refusing to take the bait. I’ve looked into the eyes of terrorists with nothing but darkness where their conscience should be. I’ve faced off against entire gangs of shifters. I can certainly handle one human female — even if that human seems bound and determined to push me over the edge.

“Are you going to try to escape again?” I ask in a low, deadly voice.

Cassie shrugs and sits back in her seat, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Are you going to tell me what the hell I’m doing here?”

“You’re here because your father needs to be taught a lesson.”

Cassie snorts, and for some reason, this really rankles my wolf. She’s treating this situation as though she’s been sent to detention — not captured and delivered to her father’s enemy on a silver platter.

She’s either the dumbest woman who’s ever lived or the bravest.

“What is it that you plan on doing with me?”

“Whatever’s necessary,” I lie, meeting her hostility inch for inch.

If she wants to play games, I can play games. My cock twitches at the thought of how I’d like to play with her, but I quickly stuff down my desire.

Going over to the closet, I open a drawer in my tool chest and pull out some fresh zip ties. I hadn’t planned on leaving her tied to a chair all night, but it’s what I have to do.

Cassie looks strangely nonchalant as I come to stand beside her. She picks up the glass of water I left sitting on the table and drains it in one go.

Gliding my hand down her arm, I tug it gently around the back of the chair before capturing her other wrist. Her skin is so unbelievably soft, and as I’m securing her zip-ties, I get the sudden, overpowering urge to kiss a trail down the inside of her wrist all the way to her palm.

But I don’t.

Cassie stiffens as I move in front of her, and my cock twitches as she squeezes her thighs together. I get another whiff of that sweet feminine musk but studiously ignore it.

I have to be misreading the signs she’s giving me. That’s the only explanation.

Cassie’s still barefoot from her earlier escape attempt, and I can’t help noticing her dainty feet. She’s got some raging tan lines, which only reinforces my hunch that she’s spent a lot of time outdoors.

“Are you cold?” I ask, eyeing her bare arms, which are covered in goosebumps.

“I’m fine,” she grinds out, staring straight ahead.

With a sigh, I straighten up and cross to the wood stove, tamping down the coals and adding fresh logs. In all the commotion, I let the fire die down, and it’s not exactly cozy in here.

Even though I have close to a month’s supply of wood curing in the racks under the back deck, I go outside to split some more. Physical activity usually helps calm my wolf, but having Cassie in my cabin feels like a bomb that’s about to go off.

I need to decide how I want to play this with the McGregors.

My wolf growls at the thought. Cassie is ours , not a pawn.

Frustrated, I rip off my shirt and toss it onto the front porch. If my wolf insists on fighting me at every turn, I might as well let him off his leash for a bit.

I make quick work of the rest of my clothes and allow the shift to overtake me.

There’s a reason I chose this spot for my cabin. It’s quiet, peaceful, and very remote. I have ten acres of my own, and I’m surrounded on all sides by national forest.

Pain gives way to sweet relief as I shed my human form. My back bends as my nose lengthens into a snout, and fur sprouts all over my body.

Within seconds, I’m standing on four paws, nose twitching with the scents of the forest: oily pine, lush earth, and the gamey musk of rabbit.

I take off into the trees at a run, relishing the feel of pine needles beneath my paws and the cool air in my fur.

When I’m in human form, I am alpha. I have to remain in control at all times so I can lead, plan, and strategize. It’s a ruthless existence that wears on my animal, but I don’t know how else to be.

When I’m a wolf, I can shed those responsibilities, if only for a few hours. I don’t have to plan. I don’t have to problem-solve. I can just be .

Usually, the shift allows me to turn off my brain and leave it all behind. But even as I dig my claws into the cold earth, there’s one problem I just can’t shake.

I might not have wanted to take Cassie hostage, but now that she’s here, there’s no way I can let her go.