Rebel tipped off his Stetson and swiped the sweat from his brow. Damn, it was hotter than Hades. It was dusk, and the summer sun had long since begun to set. Bright tinges of pink and orange clouded the western sky over the blue-ridged Idaho mountains in the distance. Normally, he and the crew would have turned in by now, but they’d lengthened their work hours during the summer, using the extra daylight to their advantage, and even though it had been close to day’s end after his and Murtagh’s security meeting, he’d come back out to the pasture.
He never felt right turning in before his ranch hands did.
“You headed in?” Boone, his young work companion for the day, asked as he sauntered out of the barn and toward the waiting truck.
Frenchie would already have dinner ready, and since the classically trained chef had joined their ragtag band of misfits, Boone, a young rebel who wasn’t a day over nineteen, never missed dinner wLily ran until her feet ached and all four of her legs threatened to give out beneath her. The nighttime summer breeze blew, ruffling the fur of her coat. It caused a chill to prickle her haunches, though she was far from cold. She paused to catch her breath and glanced up at the night sky. The stars twinkled over the vast landscape, their brightness only obscured by the light of the full moon. Even in the shadows of the towering pines, she could see everything clearly, the moonlight and her wolf senses illuminating her path. She inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. The adrenaline that coursed through her veins caused her to pant with excitement. She’d escaped. She’d actually escaped.And courtesy of a rope made of bedsheets at that.There was still a slight ache in her skull from the healing head injury, but what little pain remained was nearly gone. In a moment of daring, she threw back her head and howled. The release of tension felt so good that, had
There was no doubt in Rebel’s mind that death lingered over him. Pain searedthrough his chest, the sting of torn flesh and bone intensifying with each breath he drew until he became convinced he’d rather not breathe at all. He could feel the heated rush of blood leaving his body, the intense chill its absence left behind. Every second drew him closer to the inevitable, closer to darkness, until, for a moment, he was certain he saw the face of the angel of death himself.Hello, old friend.He greeted death warmly, as they’d been acquainted many times before. More than once, Rebel had drawn so close to death that even in his waking hours, he could recall the sensation. First, the absence of thirst, hunger, need. The loss of his vision and voice came next, followed shortly by the absence of sound and touch until he was floating in an endless ocean of emptiness. The waves rising faster than the tide until suddenly, he was carried out to sea. His b
Wicked—that was the title Lily would give the portrait she wanted to draw of him. As Rebel turned back toward her, moonlight reflected on his face, making him all hard lines and sharp angles. Between the hollows of his cheekbones and the puckered ridges of his scars, he looked like a man who’d been through hell and back, a man who’d walked through the veil of shadows yet survived. Everything about him was testimony to power and hardened will, to wild, feral darkness. The contrast made him breathtaking.She didn’t believe that his real name was Rebel, but from the way he’d nearly growled it at her seconds ago, she wasn’t going to press the issue. If he wanted to be called that, so be it.She watched as he leaned against the window, staring out into the darkness. She’d never longed for her art supplies as much as she did now. This man knew survival, the kind most beings—human or otherwise—had never been forced to endu
That night, once Lily returned to the guest suite, she fell into a deep, restful sleep where she dreamed of a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her from the darkness. She was in human form, standing at the edge of the Custer-Gallatin National Forest, just outside Wolf Pack Run, and from beneath the pines, a pair of glowing eyes watched her. She glanced up as the wind whistled through the trees. The rolling smith clouds and thunder overhead cast an ominous threat. A storm was coming.As she looked back toward the trees again, all sound ceased save for the rustling of the leaves in the wind. The eyes that had once been an icy cerulean blue had shifted, transitioning into the gold of a wolf’s eyes. Familiar eyes.Anthony, a sharp voice whispered.Suddenly, Anthony darted deeper into the trees, disappearing among the foliage. Lily ran after him, shifting into wolf form. She chased him for what felt like miles, years. Yet instinct told her she was supposed
It was a long walk to the stables, and by the time they’d found Tucker and made their journey out to the pasture, Lily was certain she’d been asked more questions than if she’d been interrogated by Rebel’s men themselves. The latest in the line of questioning was about the merits of strawberry versus raspberry jelly, because as Hope put it, she was firmly in the nothing-is-better-than-strawberry camp, while Will and Noah preferred raspberry. Hope was convinced she could get the cook to make strawberry jelly, if only Lily sided with her, since as a “guest,” Lily’s word would carry more weight.Guest wasn’t exactly what Lily would call it, but all things considered, the situation was complicated.As they reached the stable, after much reluctance to pick sides, Lily finally admitted, “Actually, I prefer raspberry jelly, because it’s more ta…” Her voice trailed off as they stepped inside.She&r
Had Rebel been a God-fearing man, he would have prayed she didn’t follow him, but he knew firsthand that not even God could save him from the likes of Lily Grey when she set her mind to something. Her steps over the grass were silent, but he felt her presence behind him as keenly as if he were looking at her.“I have a bone to pick with you,” she called after him.He tugged on Bee’s reins, slowing the mustang. “If it involves either teacup pigs as indoor pets or small children asking about horse’s mating habits, then save it. It can wait.” He nudged Bee again.“It can’t wait.” She stepped in front of him, blocking their path. Her eyes flashed to her wolf’s. She wasn’t pleased and he knew it.“Can’t or won’t?”The gold in those wolf eyes flared. “Both.” She placed her hands on her hips. Rebel shook his head. He inspired fear in most men, and yet
Lily hated him right now. She absolutely hated him.It was nearly nightfall by the time she climbed the mansion steps. She gritted her teeth as she shuffled forward. Her feet were starting to ache. Sure, she’d only been a short walk from the stables, and she’d been able to ride back to the mansion on one of his spare horses, but that’d been after she’d come to the rescue of one of his stable hands.Well…maybe rescue was the wrong word, considering she’d been the one to accidentally knock over the stable hand’s teetering wheelbarrow of manure. She’d felt it was only fair to offer to help clean the mess up. Half an hour later, it failed to matter that she’d been the one to knock the wheelbarrow over. She was still cursing Rebel for not readily offering her a ride. She hadn’t mucked stalls like that since she was a wolf pup, and her arms were feeling it something fierce.Gripping the massive door handle,
When Lily woke several hours later, she couldn’t get back to sleep. She lay in bed for what felt like hours, her mind replaying every scenario since the moment Rebel had first turned up in her bedroom and worrying over what lay before them the following night. Despite their newfound truce, she still wasn’t certain she’d made the right decision in partnering with him, though she supposed time would tell.After more than one unsuccessful attempt to quiet her mind and return to sleep, she finally threw back the covers and ventured out of bed. The children and Murtagh had mentioned a library in the south wing of the mansion, and she intended to find it. With any luck, she’d find an entertaining read to pass the midnight hours. With tentative steps, she crept from her room and descended the staircase to the first floor.The mansion was quiet. Wolves were nocturnal by nature, but she’d observed that much like Wolf Pack Run, Johnson Hollow bustle