Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 Read online

  He was older now and a whole lot wiser.

  He had a second chance and wasn’t about to screw it up.

  Sylvie wasn’t sure how long she stood staring out the window before she finally made herself turn away. She wandered into the living room. It was a comfortable room, a masculine one with feminine touches.

  She ran her fingers over the back of the leather sofa and touched several of the throw pillows. She wondered which woman had chosen them.

  Jealousy ate at her, making her feel small and petty. They had what she had always wanted—a family and a home. Both had always eluded her. What she’d had with Andre had been hell on earth. And her years growing up hadn’t been much better.

  She laid her hand on her stomach and then touched her face. So many scars, inside and out.

  Sylvie sat in one of the large chairs and tried to get comfortable. She couldn’t settle and tried another. A sad laugh escaped her. She felt a little bit like Goldilocks. None of the chairs felt right.

  She stood and paced the floor. Maybe she should leave? Armand hadn’t seemed too keen on staying to talk with her. Of course, she’d given him quite a shock and she knew he needed time to process everything. But couldn’t he have done that here with her?

  Alone. She’d felt alone her entire life. She’d always felt out of step. Different.

  Her steps slowed and she finally came to a stop. The only time she hadn’t felt alone was when Gator had held her in his arms.

  She swallowed heavily and swayed, feeling slightly faint. That wasn’t good. Not at all. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with her past, push back her fears and cobble together a life. She couldn’t jeopardize that for some man, no matter how sexy she found him.

  “I’ve gone crazy,” she muttered. That was the only explanation she could come up with for her unusual behavior. She never noticed men. Never. But Gator got under her skin, made her tingle in places she’d never tingled, and all without trying. He had only to be in the same room with her and her body responded to him.

  She had to go, had to get away from here. She’d call Armand later and see if he wanted to talk.

  Sylvie strode to the front door and yanked it opened. There was no one around when she stepped out onto the deck. It was so quiet and beautiful here. So different from where she’d grown up. She liked that.

  Even when it was hot like it was today, the scent of pine and earth and flowers was thick and inviting. The light breeze was warm without being oppressive. It cooled her heated flesh, refreshing her. The mountains in the distance, so ancient and enduring, soothed her soul. She could live here.

  Another reason she should leave. They’d all played lip service to wanting her to stay, but when it came down to it, they’d left her alone.

  She shook off the self-pity and heading down the path. She’d made first contact with her brother and that had been her intention all along. In that, she had succeeded.

  She meant to head straight to her car but got sidetracked when two rabbits jumped out onto the path in front of her. She wasn’t sure who was more startled—her or them. She hadn’t smelled them at all and they certainly hadn’t scented her.

  One of them turned and ran straight into the other before they both hopped off. Their antics made her laugh.

  “It’s nice to hear you laugh.”

  Sylvie rounded to find Armand behind her. Now that she was paying attention, she could easily scent him. She’d gotten slack living in the city surrounded by humans. Anyone could have snuck up on her.

  “You’re back.” She tried to keep the hurt from her voice but knew she’d been unsuccessful when he frowned.

  “Yeah.” He tilted his head to one side. “Where were you going?”

  Deciding to be totally honest, she answered him. “Home.”

  His dark brown eyes, a mirror image of her own, widened slightly before narrowing. “You were leaving?” he accused.

  “Yes.” She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I didn’t exactly feel welcome when everyone left. I felt like I was in the way.” She softened her next words. No matter how hurt she felt, this was Armand, the brother she loved. “I was going to call.”

  “Shit.” Armand dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle things as well as I should.” The scars on his face seemed to grow even whiter. “But, Sylvie, I thought you dead all these years. It’s hard to come to grips with the fact you’re alive and understand why you didn’t contact me.”

  She’d done the one thing she’d never wanted to do. She’d hurt Armand. “I couldn’t.” She’d already explained why and didn’t know what else to add to it. Nothing she could say would make him hurt any less. “I’m sorry.”

  He reached out his hand to her and she took it. “I know you are.” He squeezed her fingers. “I am too.”

  Armand took a deep breath and slowly released it. His shoulders relaxed and some of the tension drained out of him. “I’d like you to stay. Please,” he added. “Have dinner and spend the night. I really want you to get to know Anny.”

  Sylvie nibbled on her bottom lip. She really wanted to stay but she worried about Gator and the others, especially Gator. Screw it. She squared her shoulders and took yet another leap of faith. “I’d like that.”

  She wanted to get to know her brother again, to find out how he and Anny had met. She also wanted to spend time with her cousins and the others. Especially Gator, a little voice in the back of her head mocked.

  As though he were reading her thoughts, Armand added, “Gator will probably whip up a feast in celebration.”

  She still couldn’t get over the fact that Gator cooked. Willingly. That was so unlike all the other male werewolves she’d known. But then again, Gator was very different, always had been.

  The more she thought about it, she realized the rest of them were also different. Jacque, Louis, Armand, Cole and Gator had never really fit into the pack they’d been born into. Like her, they’d felt like outsiders.

  Maybe they had more in common with her than she’d thought.

  “Come back to the house with me. We’ll have something cool to drink, dig up a few cookies and sit out on the porch and talk.”

  Sylvie felt her heart expand and some of the emptiness inside her began to dissipate. “I’d like that.” They walked hand in hand back to the porch. It reminded her of when they were small children, walking in the woods together. They’d held hands back then too. Or at least they had until their father had seen them and accused her of trying to turn Armand into a weak pup. They’d both received a beating.

  Her brother had stopped holding her hand after that.

  “Just like old times, isn’t it?”

  She shot him a gaze and knew he was thinking the same thing she was. “We can’t go back.” She wished she could go back and change so many things.

  “No, we can’t.” He squeezed her hand. “But we can go forward.”

  “Forward,” she repeated, savoring the word. It implied a future. “I’d like that.”

  They reached the porch and he motioned her to one of the several Adirondack chairs. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get some lemonade.” He gave her a soft smile. “If I remember correctly, it was your favorite.”

  Her chest ached but it felt good. “It still is.”

  “Be right back.”

  Armand went inside and she inspected the large, comfortable wooden chairs. They were all beautifully made and painted different colors, which surprised her. She expected the men would have left them plain. The women probably had something to do with the bright colors. The women here seemed to have a lot of say in everything. It gave her hope that this pack was truly different.

  She’d just settled into a chair painted a fire-engine red when a motion off to the left caught her attention. She swiveled her head toward it, only to find Gator watching her. Ho
w much had he heard? Not that it mattered.

  “I’m glad you’re staying for dinner.”

  That answered that question. Obviously, he’d heard pretty much everything. Had he been watching her all along? Would he have let her leave?

  In spite of the shade from the porch, she felt overheated. He’d donned his jeans once again but was still barefoot and bare-chested. She fanned herself with her hand before she thought better of it.

  “There’s no need to be afraid, Sylvie. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Gator moved closer, his movements smooth and easy.

  She knew he meant it, but she also knew he could hurt her unintentionally. Not physically, but emotionally. Even after all these years and all the work she’d done to help herself, she was still afraid much of the time and certainly wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship.

  He leapt onto the porch and leaned against one of the posts. “What would you like for dinner?”

  It startled her to realize that no one had ever asked her that question in her life. When she was a kid, she ate whatever was put on the table. To do otherwise was an invitation to incite her father’s anger, and that never ended well for anyone. Andre had certainly never asked her. She’d cooked whatever her mate had wanted. Living alone in the human world there was never a reason for anyone to ask her such a thing.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it,” he encouraged. He crossed his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. He was a feral predator, a strong, aggressive male, and he wanted to know what she wanted him to cook her for dinner.

  It made her laugh. Then her gaze immediately shot to him, wondering if he might take offense. But one corner of his mouth kicked up in a lazy grin and his blue eyes sparkled.

  “What? You think I can’t cook?”

  Armand stepped out of the house with a tray in hand. “What’s going on?”

  Gator ignored the obvious tension in Armand’s voice and grinned. “Your sister is casting aspersions on my cooking abilities.”

  “No, I’m not,” she insisted. She wasn’t used to anyone teasing her but found herself enjoying the exchange.

  Armand snorted. “Aspersions, my ass. She’s probably just worried about her stomach.” Armand set the tray on a small table between two of the chairs and handed her one of the tall glasses. “Don’t worry. He won’t poison you.”

  “Why do I put up with such slander? I should leave the lot of you to fend for yourselves.” Gator shook his head. “Have you decided what you’d like?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. She could barely think with him standing there half naked. Making a decision about dinner was beyond her.

  “I’ll surprise you.” He inclined his head to her, slapped Armand on the shoulder and went inside, leaving her and her brother alone.

  Condensation had already made the glass damp. She brought it her lips and sipped the tart, cool liquid. “That tastes wonderful.”

  Armand settled into the turquoise-colored chair next to her. “Glad you like it.” He picked up a plate of cookies from the tray and offered it to her. She took one. “Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. They’re good. Anny made them.”

  Sylvie took a bite and nodded. “They are good.” She chewed and swallowed, enjoying the flavors. “How did you and Anny meet? What pack is she from?”

  Armand’s smile lit up his entire face. “She’s not from a pack. I met her in town.”

  That didn’t make any sense. “But she’s a werewolf. I could smell her wolf. Do you mean she was a loner?” There were some who were banished from their pack for some infraction. It was the worst punishment a pack had, even worse than death in many ways, and it was rarely used. Still fewer who chose to leave their packs, like she had.

  Armand shook his head. “No. Anny was human.”

  Sylvie gasped and carefully set her glass on the arm of her chair. “How is that possible?” Her mind was whirling. Such a thing was so rare as to almost be unheard of.

  He leaned back and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “It’s a miracle.”

  Gator moved away from the open window as brother and sister began to talk. He wanted to be outside with them, with her. He forced himself to head toward his room. He needed a shower and then he’d cook for Sylvie.

  Brother and sister needed time to talk. It was a good thing. If she and Armand were on good terms, she’d be more likely to stay here. His wolf chuffed in agreement.

  He kicked off his jeans and strode naked into his bathroom. Like the rest of his space, it was functional but lacked much in the way of personality. Anny had been after him for months to do something to spruce up his room, but he hadn’t been interested. Now he wondered what Sylvie would think of it.

  He planned on offering her his room if she stayed.

  She had to stay. He couldn’t handle her being out there alone in the world. Yes, she’d survived on her own quite nicely for the past couple of years, but it was different now. He’d thought her dead. Now that he knew she was alive, he wanted to take care of her.

  He snorted and stepped into the shower stall and cranked the tap. The water came out chilly, which helped cool his heated body. He adjusted the heat and stood with the water flowing down over him.

  His dick ached. The damn thing had been on alert since the moment he’d laid eyes on Sylvie. Cooking dinner with a hard-on wasn’t exactly the best way to reassure her he was in control. It was also likely to get him a beating from his friend if Armand suspected Gator’s arousal was due to Sylvie’s presence.

  No, much better for everyone if he took matters into his own hands, so to speak. He grabbed the soap and ran it between his hands. When he had a nice lather built up, he tossed the soap back onto the ledge and ran his hand down his stomach until he reached his cock.

  He groaned the moment he touched his dick. It was all too easy to imagine it was Sylvie holding him in her hand. Yeah, that was what he really wanted.

  He kept his eyes closed as he moved his hand. His motions were rougher than hers would be so he gentled his grip. His breathing hitched and got deeper as he pumped his fist up and down.

  Gator could still smell her feminine scent, taste her on his lips. His balls drew up tight to his body. His hand moved faster.

  Merde. What would it feel like to have her mouth on him? Have her tongue lapping at his shaft? She had the sweetest lips.

  He bit down on his bottom lip to keep from yelling as he found release. He kept pumping as semen shot from the tip of his cock to coat his hand and stomach. He tilted back his head and let the water flow over him. He should feel some relief, but instead he felt empty.

  Gator swore, grabbed the soap and began to scrub. He needed to start cooking dinner for Sylvie. Right on cue, his dick began to harden again. He ignored it as he finished cleaning up and began to plan what he was going to make.

  Chapter Six

  This meal was much different from the one she’d eaten earlier. Laughter and chatter filled the space, and this time she felt more a part of things. Everyone was gathered once again around the big dining table, busily consuming bowlfuls of spicy chili that Gator had magically produced. The man really could cook.

  Armand’s mate had pulled some homemade rolls from the freezer to thaw and bake to round out the meal. She still couldn’t get over the fact that Anny had been human. She cringed when she thought about how Anny had been converted.

  Sylvie had always known their father was a bastard, but to hear what he’d done to Anny took it to a whole other level. She wasn’t sad he was gone. If that made her unfeeling, then so be it. Her father had been nothing but cruel to her for her entire life.

  As if sensing her gaze, Anny looked up and smiled at Sylvie. She smiled back, pleased her brother had found a mate, and one who really seemed to love and appreciate him. That took a weight off her. She’d always worried that Armand would
end up with some manipulative bitch who’d take advantage of his good nature.

  “What are your plans?” Jacque set his spoon back into his empty bowl and leaned back in his chair. “You know I want you to stay with us. We all do.”

  They all nodded. It brought tears to her eyes after so many years of feeling as though she had no place in the world.

  “I have a job,” she began. “And an apartment.” Or rather, she’d had a crappy waitressing job and an efficiency apartment in Ohio. She’d dumped both, packed what few belongings she had in the trunk of her ancient car and driven to North Carolina. She’d had no expectations about being welcomed with open arms but had planned to find a job nearby so she could be closer to Armand.

  Armand frowned. The motion brought attention to the scars on the left side of his face. Sylvie thought it ironic that she had a scar on her right cheek. What a pair they made.

  Louis shook his head. “No. It’s not safe for you to be out there on your own.” He turned to Jacque. “Tell her I’m right.”

  “He’s right,” Jacque easily agreed with his brother. “I’m right.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the table. “You need to stay here with your family.”

  “Maybe for a day or two,” she began, mulling over the idea in her head. It scared and excited her at the same time. “Just to see how it goes,” she added.

  “Sylvie can have my room.” All eyes turned to Gator. “That way she can be closer to Armand.”

  Sylvie shivered at the thought of sleeping in Gator’s bed. It would almost be like sleeping with him. His sheets would smell like him.

  “I thought she could take my bed,” Louis offered.

  Sylvie’s stomach tightened. She wanted to stay here, closer to Gator. No, closer to her brother.

  Gator stood and began to clear the table. “Non. It’s better if she is here with her brother. I can sleep on the sofa. It’s no big deal.”