Odd Wolf: Odd Series, #3

Odd Wolf

The Odd Series #3

Virginia Nelson

Odd Wolf

The Odd Series #3

By: Virginia Nelson

Published by Virginia Nelson

© 2015 Virginia Nelson

ISBN-13: 978-1512318685

ISBN-10: 151231868X

Cover Art by Virginia Nelson

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DEDICATION

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For Goobob

ODD WOLF

Book Three, The Odd Series

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Being the new wolf in town isn’t easy, but Lynwood Pierce is used to being on the outside. He often finds himself buried knee-deep in politics before he can figure out where the best place to grab a cup of coffee might be, but this small town is different—she is different.

Dara is a bitch in more ways than one. Running a pack might not have been her dream job, but she’s a firm believer that life happens while you’re making other plans. A rogue on her turf means she’s going to fight, and she is ready to face the challenge.

A woman with no plans to be tamed and a rootless wolf with no plans to stick around shouldn’t have more than a brief encounter and be done. However, when Dara meets Lynwood, the call to mate might drown out logic altogether.

CHAPTER One

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Darkness shrouded the bricks lining the road of the narrow alleyway cutting the shortest path between the street and his new apartment, but Lynwood Pierce simply blinked twice to allow his wolf to peer out his human eyes. With the enhanced vision, he still couldn’t see anything to make the animal uneasy. However he couldn’t blink his nostrils to allow the creature to sniff, a fact which grated on both the animal and man’s nerves.

Something about the damned alley put his wolf on edge, fur practically prickling him beneath his flesh. Blinking again, he went back to merely human vision. He hoped—likely a foolish thought, but there nonetheless—his animal was simply paranoid.

After all, they’d moved more in the past year than they’d stayed put. Steadily tracking north, he’d been shoved out of territory after territory by angry males sure he intended to pull some kind of dominance bullshit or otherwise tear apart pack structures. No one cared to hear about how he didn’t desire to take over any given pack. Nobody bothered to ask why he didn’t join them in drinking authority Kool-Aid.

He’d thought—hoped—northeast Ohio, butted up against the shores of Lake Erie, might offer a place he could stay for a while.

But his wolfy-senses were tingling. Hopefully this pack would allow him to at least visit his rooms and get his stuff before they ushered him out of town, tail between both his literal and proverbial legs. Lifting his chin and straightening his shoulders, he began to whistle as he strode into the constricted space between buildings.

The man stepped out from behind the dumpster first, gray hoodie pulled low over his face and eyes glittering yellow in the illumination from a nearby window. A miasma of menace radiated from the guy as he cracked his knuckles. Lynwood barely restrained his sigh. Pack always jumped into things ready to fight—something he really thought they should be past in this modern day and age.

Then the woman stepped out. His first impression of her? Tiny. Dark hair hung almost carelessly around the oval of her face and shadows hid her since the light from the window didn’t manage to catch her in its illuminating glow. No sooner did he mentally remark on her size than the punch of alpha supremacy practically streamed through the night like a beacon.

Instinct turned him to face the man, ready for a fight he knew he’d lose. The wave of charismatic power promised him it’d be futile. He was about to have his ass handed to him on a platter, but he braced anyway. Hey, lovely night we’re having. Am I right?

He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered with the words, since most wolves tended to charge at things, claws flying, and disregarded words spoken. Still, he tried to talk things out. He couldn’t be the only rational wolf out of his kind. The odds alone were stacked against it.

The woman moved closer, ever steady in her advance, still looking small and almost fragile. She wore a light gray, cable-knit sweater at least a couple sizes too big for her petite frame. It hung low on her hips over black leggings. Her brown hair picked up almost auburn highlights as she moved through the meager light from the window, and her eyes...

Something about her eyes raised protective instincts within his wolf he’d not experienced for longer than he cared to admit. He’d fought—and lost—the last time he’d tried to defend a woman. He wasn’t inclined to repeat a wasted failure of an experience.

Yet, this woman? Temptation twined with the urge to protect in a strange and unprecedented coil within him. Icy determination replaced the submissive nature of her posture with one tilt of her head. Her eyes, a wild and unusually blue color for a wolf, seemed to burn a tattoo on his very soul.

Shaking his head and hoping to dispel the illogical response to her, he spread his hands in what he hoped would appear a universal gesture of peace. Hopefully they would recognize the body language held no threat to them in this form.

Still she didn’t speak, continuing her unthreateningly even pace, and seeming to scrape past the veneer of civility to look deep inside him with her unchanging azure eyes. The weather has been unseasonably warm. Then again, Indian summers aren’t unheard of in these parts.

Her voice...he clenched his hand to his chest as both he and the wolf recognized it on some visceral level. Canting his head, he smelled the night, suddenly desperate for the slightest whiff of her scent. Another wave of the alpha power nearly bowled him over, and he couldn’t smell anything past the reek of the dumpster, so he bit his lip and looked away from her. Perhaps if he wasn’t looking at her, he’d remember who he was, why that mattered, and why he wasn’t interested in protecting some she-bitch from a pack in Ohio.

Instead, not looking made him more aware of the power thrumming the air around him.

Look, I know what you’re probably thinking... He wasn’t sure, actually, what they were thinking, but it was worth a shot.

That you didn’t ask permission to step foot on these lands? Because it does lead to some interesting questions, wolf. The man by the dumpster spoke, although he’d not bothered to come closer.

The protective urge arose again inside Lynwood, the brush of fur under his skin becoming nearly urgent. What kind of alpha allowed a woman to walk this close to a strange wolf? Sure, Lynwood knew he didn’t mean any harm to the small lady, but the alpha by the dumpster didn’t know his intent or what level of control he maintained over his beast. The woman was clearly unclaimed. If he were a different kind of wolf, the irresponsibility of the alpha alone would make him challenge the bastard.

But Lynwood wasn’t that kind of wolf. He’d fled his pack, sworn off authority, and he certainly didn’t do so to simply go find some other pack structure to join. Gritting his teeth against instinct, he shot another look at the woman, now only a few short steps away.

Close enough to touch, his wolf pointed out with single-minded intensity. Close enough to claim.

The man, however, long ago conquered the beast, so Lynwood simply looked at her again. With a blink, her wolf peered out at him and he hit his knees before he realized he planned to move. The impact of knees on brick jarred him and seemed to give him a tiny measure of his mind back.

Enough so, he recognized the alpha in the alley wasn’t the man by the dumpster. As he gazed up at her, he saw her lips curl into a feral smile. That’s better, don’t you think?

Her voice shivered over him, rich and ripe with her power, and he trembled before dropping his chin to his chest. Unexpected is the word I’d use. With her power still gliding over him with an invisible weight, he caved and his palms hit the cold grit of wet bricks. His arms trembled as the wolf longed to drop and show belly, an outward recognition of her utter dominance.

Your name, she demanded.

More of her strength rippled over him until he did collapse, looking at her shoes in frustration. Lynwood Pierce. Look, about trespassing on your pack property...

He didn’t get to finish. The man’s boot rammed between his ribs. The kick alone wasn’t enough to silence him, but combined with her power, the blow left him blinking back tears and grinding his teeth together.

I think we’ll go someplace more private to talk, if that is okay with you, Lynwood.

Although she’d phrased it as a question, he understood the lady alpha issued a command.

What disturbed him most, however, wasn’t her decision. It was the fact his wolf didn’t mind following any orders she might give—something he’d sworn never to do again.

***

Look, we don’t know why he’s here. I don’t think we should kill him for stumbling onto our lands.

Glaring at Charley, Dara huddled next to the dumpster and waited for the rogue to show up. The night was moist, chilly, and she’d rather be home with a book than huddling in an alley. For that alone, she was tempted to gut the bastard. "We also don’t know he ‘stumbled’ here. He could have come here with bloody and planned intent, his goal to strip me of my holdings and claim the pack. If you weren’t paying attention, which would mean he claimed you, too. In general, new leaders aren’t big fans of upper management, so to speak.