Page 15 of Predator (Stope Packs #4)

Jackson drove slower than usual on the country lane, not wanting to jostle Emily too much. Sure, the road was asphalted, but the wind had thrown pine cones, rocks, and even branches in his way.

The clock on the dashboard read just past two in the morning. Thick clouds obscured the moon, yet Jackson could still feel the pulse of its power thrumming in his bones.

The sensation gave him peace since his strength waxed and waned in tune with the cyclical pull. Scientists among the packs theorized that their connection had nothing to do with ocean tides, as human scientists believed, but rather electromagnetic fields that fluctuated during different lunar phases. Jackson didn’t much care about the science, only that the moon made him faster, stronger, and sharper when he needed it.

Emily stared at the starless night outside, her body stiff, pain emanating from her. The hum of the truck’s engine and the rhythmic thump of tires against asphalt seemed to lull her into a fragile rest. Even so, Jackson’s focus never wavered from the road. His grip on the steering wheel was firm, his senses heightened with the lingering adrenaline of the night. Every shadow along the roadside kept his pulse elevated.

She was safe. For now. But until he found the hired thugs who had helped kidnap her, that restless hum of tension wouldn’t leave his veins. Not until she was truly out of danger. Not until he knew she was home and under his roof, where no one could touch her.

The soft vibrations of hurt from Emily hit Jackson harder than he’d expected. Her height made her stand out, but up close, her small-boned frame seemed more fragile than usual. Someone had bruised her.

That fact heated his throat with a rage so fierce it made him want to roar. He’d killed that bastard too quickly. Should’ve made him suffer. But the guy had pointed a gun at Emily, and Jackson hadn’t had the luxury of dragging it out.

He cleared his throat, keeping perfect control of his emotions, especially his temper. “So…did the doc find any other injuries?”

Emily startled slightly as if yanked from her thoughts. Her gaze shifted to him, eyes focusing after a moment. “Huh?”

Awareness prickled down his spine at the haziness in her eyes. “You said you had bruises and…female questions.”

“Oh, that.” Emily waved a hand dismissively, but the movement exposed the scratches on her wrist where she’d been bound. His chest tightened, and a low growl rumbled from deep in his throat before he could stop it.

“The bruises are fine,” she said quickly. “I just had some female-related questions. None of your business.”

“Fair enough.” He had no desire to discuss female issues, whatever the hell those were.

Emily shifted in her seat. “We don’t have a doctor. Well, we have a healer, but some of her knowledge is out-of-date. Kind female, though,” she added hastily.

“Good,” Jackson replied. His pulse beat harder than it should. Maybe it was relief. Maybe something else entirely. The air between them thickened, charged with a heat he didn’t have the luxury of acknowledging. His grip tightened on the wheel as awareness of her—her scent, the warmth of her presence—sank into his bones. The truck cab suddenly felt too small.

Her hand flattened on the too-short, light-green scrubs she had borrowed. “I asked the doctor if she knew who was sabotaging your mines, thinking maybe a patient had confided in her. She had no clue, and I believed her.”

He appreciated Emily trying to help him. “Thanks, but I’ve decided you should just snoop around for yourself and not try to help me. I’ll figure out who’s messing with us. You’ve been in enough danger already.” He meant every word.

She shrugged. “Okay, but I wanted to tell you that I’m really impressed with how you’ve modernized your pack. I absolutely love the idea of wolves exploring the world to bring new skills back to the pack.”

Pride swelled in his chest. He’d fought hard against the council to make that program a reality. “It’s not just young people,” he said, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Anybody can leave for a period of time as long as they bring back useful skills. We offer scholarships—or grants, I guess you’d call them. Raya oversees all that, making sure pack members have enough money to live while they’re training. Right now, we’ve got two alternating families out learning more about sustainable farming.”

“Oh, yeah?” Emily tilted her head, interest lighting her eyes. “The Copper Pack just brought in a group of farmers.”

So, he wasn’t the only Alpha adding ranks to his forces. Good to know. “It’s smart. If we can grow our own food and raise livestock, we’ll be ready for the next pandemic.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Emily murmured.

Even wolves hadn’t been immune to the last one, though none had died from it.

“And bringing in new members strengthens us, too,” Jackson added. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel as the urge to reach over and hold her hand crept in. But what excuse did he have? Other than the simple fact that he wanted to touch her.

Her presence beside him felt too right, her scent weaving through the air like a thread tying them together. But she’d made her position clear. She couldn’t mate him. Her pack needed her, just as the Granite Pack needed him.

Still, the heat in his body wouldn’t fade. Not when she was this close, not when the night pressed around them and every instinct inside him bellowed for him to keep her safe and with him.

He tried to lighten the mood. “Not sure what I’m going to do with a bunch of artists, though.”

Emily laughed softly. “It was kind of you to bring the painters in. You mentioned your pack holds an annual festival where you sell wares. Maybe they can help fill the coffers. Besides, I’m sure a few of them might end up working in the mines. We always need people, too.”

“Yeah, we do.” Jackson slowed the truck as they reached his home, gravel scattering beneath the tires. The house’s dark silhouette stood tall against the night sky, faint light spilling from the porch lantern. Cutting the engine, he shifted toward her. “I’m sorry you were kidnapped in my territory. It never should’ve happened.”

Surprise lifted her eyebrows. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“The hell it wasn’t,” he growled. “This is my territory. Somebody dared to come in here and take you. I will find out who hired that bastard.”

“Yeah, well, I gave it a good shot, but he wasn’t giving anything up.”

He would most certainly be more persuasive than she’d been once he got his hands on the others who’d helped kidnap her. “Let’s get some sleep and then head into the office. This afternoon, I’d like to fly into Slate territory and speak with your father and Victor. We’ll take the helicopter.”

“I didn’t want to worry my father, but we should speak with him about the kidnapping attempt. You’re going to pilot the craft, right?”

“Hell, yeah, I am.” He grinned. “Didn’t go on to fly fighter jets, but I can handle just about anything else.”

Emily chuckled as she opened her door and stepped out, wearing boots borrowed from Dr. Gwen. The careful way she moved didn’t sit right with him. She was still hurting. His chest tightened at the reminder. He couldn’t believe she’d been injured on his watch. The air between them buzzed with unspoken tension, but he could only focus on ensuring she stayed safe from here on out.

He hopped out and met her near the steps to his wide veranda.

“We’ll have to fly out late afternoon,” she said as he approached. “You have meetings with the three other prospective Alpha females first, remember?”

Jackson groaned. “I don’t like this modern dating.”

“Oh, I know,” she murmured, amusement in her tone. She turned to take in the wide expanse of his home. “It’s much easier when the father just hands the female over, right?”

He noted the amusement in her sweet voice. “You’re having fun with this whole matchmaking scheme, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied, eyes twinkling.

“You enjoy being a pain in my ass.”

Her soft chuckle loosened something inside him. “Maybe I do.” The breeze picked up, carrying the crisp bite of winter. She tilted her face toward the sky, inhaling deeply. “Snow’s coming,” she murmured.

“I know. That’s why we’re flying today and not tomorrow. A good storm is on the way.”

“I’m glad the snow is finally coming. Autumn’s pretty with the leaves and all, but then they die, and everything turns gray. It’s time for snow.”

Her unexpected burst of romanticism threw him. Without overthinking, he reached over and took her hand. Her fingers were cool from the night air, but her warmth seeped into his skin.

“I’m not sleeping with you, Jackson,” she said without pulling away.

“I’ve got a guest room, sweetheart. Three of ‘em, in fact.”

Her gaze moved to the house, studying the grand log home with its wide front porch and tall windows reflecting the mysterious moonlight. “Your house is bigger than I expected. It surprised me when I came over to make breakfast.”

“You thought I lived in a shack in the woods?”

“Yes. Ramshackle with tons of booze and lube. The ultimate bachelor pad,” she mused.

He chuckled, adjusting his grip on her hand as they approached the stairs. It had been much too long since he’d been a free spirit, although he hadn’t minded giving that impression to the other packs.

Being underestimated was always a good thing.

Yet he’d also had to fight battles, so his reputation had quickly darkened. That also kept his pack safe.

Her hand, small and delicate in his, contrasted sharply with the strength he knew she possessed. They climbed the steps, boots clunking against the wood, and he pushed open the heavy front door, the hinges creaking slightly. Warmth spilled out from inside, chasing away the chill of the night as he led her across the threshold.

She smiled, looking around. “Earlier I noticed how lovely your home is.”

“It was my father’s.” Jackson guided her inside. “Feels like a good home.”

“When did your mother die?” she asked.

The personal question caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered. “When I was just a baby. There was an attack from a rogue pack. During one of the rough patches the Stope Packs Coalition went through, I believe.”

Her sigh held sadness. “That’s happened a few times, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but we’ve always had each other’s backs. Or at least that’s what I was told. After the attack, the coalition banded together and wiped out that rogue pack. It doesn’t exist anymore.”

Emily swallowed and pressed her free hand against her rib cage. Was she bruised there, as well? “I miss my mother so much. I knew her until I was ten.”

Silence stretched between them as their footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor. They had that in common—being raised by Alpha fathers without a mother’s touch. Yet, where Jackson carried a rough edge, a product of stepping into leadership too young, Emily wore her grace like armor.

“Your father did a good job,” Jackson said.

She snorted softly and nudged him with her hip. “So did yours.”

Jackson’s lips quirked as he guided her into the main gathering room. The fire inside the massive fireplace crackled warmly, casting shadows over the worn leather furniture arranged around a low coffee table. He’d had Thane stop by earlier to make sure all the fires were lit, especially the one in the guest bedroom he planned for Emily.

The scent of pine and woodsmoke lingered in the air, grounding the space in earth and tradition.

Emily paused as if soaking in the warmth radiating from both the fire and the walls. Her light hair glowed in the firelight, and her eyes had darkened to an unfathomable midnight.

He turned her to face him and released her hand to cup her face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

His groin hardened instantly.

Then, shock of all shocks, dignified and graceful Emily Nightsom levered up on her toes and pressed her sweet lips against his.