Chapter 4

The Call of the Wild

KEENAN

I flinch when Vanessa calls me a dog, but I deserve her ire. I decide to give her what she wants, though I’d rather stay in wolf form so I don’t have to explain my idiocy to her.

I’ve been acting like a brainless mutt from the moment I jumped through that window to save her. I chose pretty much the worst way to reveal myself, then, when we were hauled away all I could think of was the cops shoving her into the back of a police car, treating my mate like a criminal. I’d gone berserk.

Her eyes grow wide as I shift and she takes a couple of steps back, her gaze crawling up and down my body. I try not to smirk as she lingers south of the equator for a few extra seconds before jerking her eyes up to mine.

“Hello,” she says hesitantly, then sticks her hand out. “Vanessa Bedalia.”

Of course I know who she is, and by now she has to know I know, but she’s so damn cute standing there with her hand out.

I take it in a tight grip and linger, feeling her soft skin, her fragile bones, and her warm blood rushing through her veins. Touching her feels right and the last piece falls into place within me, completing part of our mating bond. Elation, guilt and overwhelming despair crash into each other, nearly driving me to my knees. This is it. I’ve killed her again.

I can barely control the despair in my voice as I introduce myself, “Keenan Wolven-North.”

She allows me to hold her hand for several long seconds, then seemingly realizes and pulls it away, holding it to her chest, her expression anxious. “I’m not your mate,” she announces.

I’m struggling to listen to her words through senses gone wild. I can feel her heart beating frantically, her breath as it whooshes in and out… and I can hear her thoughts as though they were mine. Before I’d been able to catch snatches here and there, but now they’re crystal clear.

… ginormous penis! Almost worth pretending we’re mates just to see what he can do with it.

I swallow my laughter because she’s already freaked out. She doesn’t need to know the details of our bond yet. “We don’t have to worry about the mating thing right now,” I tell her.

“Great,” she says. “Then you can leave and I’ll go back inside and we’ll forget this whole miserable day happened.”

Unfortunately, that can’t happen. We’re bonded and there’s no way to undo it. It would hurt both of us if I left.

“Will you let me explain?” I ask gently, waving her toward the moonlit beach.

She hesitates. “I know what happened. You mistook me for your mate and when you saw what you thought was my death, you went crazy and broke through Yannis’s window.”

I’m a little surprised my human mate managed to work out most of what happened. “Yannis?”

“The guy who’s going to sue me, my agent, my dry cleaner, basically everyone I know because of you. Rich people tend to get pissed when giant dogs leap through their windows.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. It’s been taken care of,” I say stiffly. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped referring to me as a dog.”

She looks like she wants to argue, then sighs and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I’m not usually rude.”

I know that because I’ve followed her enough to get a sense of what she’s like. And like every other reincarnation of my mate, this one is unfailingly kind to the people around her. Almost to her detriment.

“Come with me.” I wave toward the surf again. “We can sit and talk. Maybe I can make you understand.” I gentle my voice, reminding myself to adjust to her human sensibilities.

She looks dubiously toward where I’m pointing, then back at me. “Umm, do you have pants?”

I glance at the surf shack where I left my pants when I shifted and shake my head. I’m not ready to deal with the dragon again.

That’d been a shock. Of course I knew of Vanessa’s friendship with Pinky but I’d never gotten close enough to realize the pink-haired surfer was also a shifter, let alone a dragon shifter. It explains why the diminutive woman feels comfortable sleeping on a beach in a rickety shack. Who would fuck with a dragon?

“Let’s go down to the water,” I say.

Vanessa nods. “But we’re staying within screaming distance of Pinky’s place.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I try to reassure her, though if we’re being honest, it doesn’t matter how close we are to the shack. I could easily tear out her throat before she could let out so much as a peep.

She echoes my thoughts.

“How many serial killers do you suppose said something similar to their victims?”

“I’m not a serial killer.” Okay, I probably am, but not in the way she means. I killed my share during the Human-Shifter wars and a few since, but only the ones who deserved it.

As we walk, I catch another scent, this one driving me wild and stealing my concentration. Shifter’s have incredibly sensitive noses, which means we can smell the genitalia of our mates. My mate’s pussy smells like wildflower infused honey. It’s going to drive me insane imagining myself nose deep in her sweet nectar.

“Why were you at Yannis’s house tonight?” Her voice pulls me from my distracted thoughts.

I consider lying. I’m not generally untruthful, but I’ve occasionally lied to my mates over the centuries to spare feelings. I sense the truth will go over better with this mate. “I followed you there. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

“I knew it!” she exclaims, her face lighting up as she claps her hands. “I knew it was you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always had the feeling someone was following me, ever since I was little. When I met you, I realized it was you .” She matches my frown as she adds, “I don’t know how I know. I just do. Like a feeling inside me.” She puts her hand on my arm, stopping me, her eyes wide as they meet mine. “Shit, I really am your mate, aren’t I?”

I laugh, but my smile falls quickly away when I see her distress. I try not to let it pain me. She doesn’t know me and it’s a lot to take in. “Yes, you are.”

She lets out a puff of breath. “Can I decline?”

“Being my mate?” I ask incredulously and she nods. “No, it’s a permanent condition.”

I feel the generations-wide gap between us as her quick mind races, her thoughts speeding through my head … Like really, really cute, but you’ve met good-looking guys before, Vanessa. They always turn out to be Hollywood dicks. Not that this guy is Hollywood. More like a gorgeous, rough-around-the-edges Jason Momoa from his Stargate Atlantis days. But it doesn’t matter how Momoa he is, having a wolf mate and pursuing an acting career just won’t mesh.

I try to reassure her. “You don’t have to do anything with me you don’t want to.” This isn’t the first time I’ve been rejected by my mate, but as much as it hurts, I try to respect their boundaries. I change the subject before she decides to out-and-out reject me, asking Vanessa one of the things I’ve been wondering through years of following her. “What made you want to become an actor?”

She smiles, some of her anxiety melting away as her soft gaze sweeps the inky ocean. “When I was young, I moved around a lot with my mom who worked as a personal art broker.”

I nearly snort at her description of Izzy Bedalia, world famous art thief.

“I didn’t make friends easily and was alone a lot. I filled my time with watching television and playing make-believe. I never really grew out of wanting to dress up and pretend I was someone else. It seemed like a natural progression from the childhood plays I used to put on for my mom to acting.”

“Why do you want to be someone you’re not?” I ask, feeling no closer to understanding her than I did before. I hadn’t known she was lonely as a child. When I visited to check on her, she’d always been smiling and laughing, even when she was by herself.

“Who doesn’t want to pretend sometimes?” She kicks at the sand before sinking down onto it and looking up at me expectantly.

I sigh, knowing I’ll be picking sand out of my ass-crack for days, and follow her, sitting gingerly. “I’ve never pretended to be anyone I’m not.”

“Why not?”

I give it some thought before answering. “I suppose I’ve never had the luxury of make believe. Too many responsibilities.”

Her eyes are large and luminous in the wash of moonlight. “Has life been rough for you?” She covers her mouth and shakes her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I can be too nosy. Pinky tells me that all the time.”

“I don’t mind.” But there are things I can’t tell her even if the yearning to share my grief is strong. Instead, I say, “I’m over 700 years old. I’ve fought in a war. I buried my parents and watched my oldest brother deteriorate into madness while the rest of my brothers scattered. I’ve seen people I’ve grown to love die.” It feels as though a weight lifts from me as I talk. An immortal life is a long one and tragedy is unavoidable. Confessing this to my mate makes the burden feel easier.

Her hand creeps up my arm, rubbing, meant to soothe. Pleasure skitters across my skin where she touches me and I hold my breath, silently begging for more.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “It sounds lonely.”

Her heart is open to me and I know that her sentiment is real. She is sorry for me, but that’s all she feels and it’s not what I want from my mate. “And I’m sorry you don’t want a wolf for a mate.”

She smiles, her teeth flashing. “It’s nothing personal. I’m just not ready to get married or mated or whatever. You understand?”

Not really. I want nothing more than to spend eternity with my mate, but I nod anyway, thinking if I make myself agreeable, she’ll give me a chance. “Answering the mating call can be difficult under certain circumstances.”

“Like with cross-species mating?” she asks.

I hesitate, then say, “Humans aren’t always receptive to mating with a shifter.”

“And you’re one hundred percent positive I’m your mate?”

“I’ve known since the day you were born.”

She nods. “I figured. I’ve been aware of you since I was very young. Do you remember the swing set when you caught me before I could hit the ground?”

I’m surprised she remembers. “I do.”

“I felt so safe in your arms then.” She pauses, then says, “I felt safe in your arms tonight when you jumped through the window.”

“You did?” I ask in surprise.

“Well, it was definitely frightening, but I knew you weren’t going to hurt me.” She returns her stare to the ocean. “Instinct I guess.”

We sit silently side-by-side. I have a thousand questions I want to ask my mate. Like why does she wash her hair on Tuesdays and Fridays? And why does her trash always smell like chamomile? And how has her driver’s license not been taken away from her by the concerned citizens of Los Angeles? And finally, what will it take to get her to accept me in her life? I can feel the bond cementing. There’s no turning back.

But she’s adjusting to her new reality, one in which she has a mate she didn’t ask for. My questions can come later.

“Where do we go from here?” she asks softly, sifting sand through her fingers. “I mean what do we do about this mating thing?”

“We take it slow,” I say, mesmerized by the sand flowing over and through her elegant fingers. “There’s no need to rush anything.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure I want anything to happen between us, Keenan. My life might not be perfect, but it’s mine and I’ve worked hard for what I have.” If he’s been following me, then he knows I have nothing. He’s a prince or something, he must think I have a pathetic garbage heap for a life. But I love the little I do have.

I almost assure her I think nothing of the kind, but she’s not ready to know how clearly I can hear her thoughts.

She continues, “I know shifters live among us, but not many choose the city. Pinky says it messes with shifter senses, which is why she lives on a beach away from the crowds. I can’t imagine you liking it here in the city enough to stay.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

She grimaces. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make assumptions. I don’t know you. Do you like Los Angeles?”

“Hate it,” I admit, and we both laugh.

“I think you just proved my point,” she says.

“You didn’t prove anything and you now only know one thing about me. It’s not enough to decide on a mate.”

She shakes her head, though her face is still soft with laughter. “You’re a determined wolf, aren’t you?”

At least she’s not calling me a dog. “I just want us to spend some time getting to know each other.” Even if it’ll be torture for me, I add silently.

She studies me.

I try to stay out of her thoughts.

“You won’t push me into mating?”

“Never.” I’ve seen what happens when I push a mate. Sadie. My third mate. She refused my claim and out of desperation I kidnapped her intending to take her to the witches to break the curse. Sadie died trying to flee. It destroyed me and I vowed to never force my mate again.

“Okay, I suppose it can’t hurt to hang out. Get to know each other, see if we’re even compatible.” She lets a puff of air out. “I suppose I could handle a date or two.”

Of course we’re compatible. The universe doesn’t create incompatible mates. I’ve seen it myself with my mated brothers. It was like Sarina was designed for Lock, and Magdalene was the perfect witch to pull Rush out of his gruff shell.

Vanessa stands and brushes sand off her ass, sticking her hand out to me. “C’mon. I’ll help you find a place to sleep.”

Taking her hand, I pretend to use her help as I stand. “You don’t have to find me a place to sleep. I’m a shifter, I can sleep pretty much anywhere.”

“You said you wanted us to get to know each other.” She strides around the back of Pinky’s surf shack and points at a shadowed alcove next to a garbage can. “Here. It’s where I used to sleep.”

“What?” I ask, stunned. “When?”

“Eight years ago, when I first moved to LA with only a couple of dollars in my pocket. I chose this spot because I’d heard rumors a dragon shifter lived nearby. I figured as long as it didn’t eat me, this was as safe as anywhere else.”

My mate thought hanging out with a dragon shifter would be safer? Than what? Sleeping in the lion enclosure at the zoo?

I hadn’t known my mate was ever without a home. My duties to Wolf-Haven often call me away from her, sometimes months or even years passing before I saw her again. It guts me to know she lived without shelter for a time.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as she continues, “… after a few nights, Pinky came storming out back here to shoo me away, sick of having an interloper on her property, but when she saw me, she invited me to stay with her until I got on my feet. We’ve been friends ever since.”

I feel guilty for growling at Pinky earlier.

I settle onto the ground in the spot she pointed at. If it was good enough for my mate, then it’s good enough for me. “Go inside and get some sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

She turns to walk away, hesitates, then turns back. “Thank you for jumping in to save me tonight. Even if I didn’t need saving, it was still a really sweet thing to do. Goodnight, Keenan.”

“Night, Vanessa,” I say as she disappears around the corner.