Reach for the Sky (Wolffe Peak Book 1) Read online

  But if he didn’t catch her soon—preferably before she bolted out into the streets—there’d be a hefty indecent exposure ticket coming her way. A shame, really. Anyone with such a pert ass should be able to flaunt it as much as she liked.

  As he watched her duck around a carved tree stump, he wondered if she’d been the next intended victim. Blonde and blue-eyed, after all. Which may not have been a requirement, but three dead bodies with matching physical characteristics was more than coincidence. And if she was the next mark, it raised another question: were any of the others werewolves? He’d only seen the one victim from today, and she was human. Shane had agreed to let him look at the files for the other two, so he made a mental note to research that. This one, though, had the sweet smell of werewolf all over her. The moment he’d lifted her in the air, he’d felt it settle into his lungs—a mouth-watering combination of fur, forest, and a whiff of honeysuckle.

  He hopped over the same stump, fingers tearing at his clothes as he moved, before shifting midair. As alpha, it was a move he’d perfected years ago. And with his bulk, it was the only way he would catch her. Tiny thing that she was, she zipped through the coppice, narrowly avoiding the grasping branches that seemed determined to make his life miserable.

  Wyatt ate up the distance between them without trying. He dogged her steps, waiting for the upcoming bed of moss before launching into the air and taking her down. Her sharp squeal of terror cut straight through his chest. At the last moment, he tucked his paws so as not to scratch her. Except, the little spitfire took the opportunity to throw a right hook.

  Stars…

  Sparkly lights danced before his eyes, his jaw aching. Christ. He shook his head and slapped her arms down with his front paws, bracing her weight as she squirmed against him. Vocabulary would be useful here. But first he snapped his teeth in her face, his lips reared back, revealing his fangs to ensure she got the point. Face pale, her bottom lip trembled…and oh hell, didn’t that slay him. His heart squeezed at the sight of a single tear slipping down her cheek. With a sigh, he lowered his lips and shifted, his paws lengthening into strong fingers that held her pinned.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Wyatt groaned, trying to ignore the sensation of her brushing against him. “Would you stop?” he hissed. Because hell if his dick wasn’t responding to her small thrusts, the traitorous bastard.

  “Let me go,” she pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I—”

  “Woman,” Wyatt growled, “if you’d just listen…”

  She stilled beneath him, a strange twinkle in her eyes.

  Wyatt’s brows deepened. What schemes did she have running through her head? “I’m not going to—”

  Pain.

  Wyatt groaned. It took every ounce of strength to hold her down and not fall to the side. Where the hell had she learned to headbutt someone like that? For the third time tonight, he shook himself and struggled to clear away the tiny, twittering birds that fluttered around his head.

  “—hurt you,” he grunted.

  “W—What?”

  Oh, thank the Lord. “I said…” He released one of her arms to lift a hand to his head. He couldn’t believe this teeny woman had nearly knocked him out cold. Some alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Then why did you chase me?” Her warm breath brushed over his mouth.

  “Why did you sack me?”

  She shifted her weight for a second time, that knee in question accidentally brushing against him. Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath and snapped his jaw shut, blindsided by a confusing cocktail of pain and pleasure.

  “No, why were you chasing me before that?”

  “Before what?” He wanted to bat at the offending birds that still circled his head. Couldn’t think with them up there, whistling Dixie as they went round and round and round.

  “Back on the street!” She wriggled her other arm free and pushed up onto her elbows.

  Wyatt’s gaze dropped. Oh buddy, don’t look there. Not that he could tear his gaze away now that he’d succumbed. Two small mounds stared up at him, and much like the proverbial cherry on top, her nipples were deliciously taut. From the cold, you sick pervert. Snarling at himself, he forced his gaze northward, his mouth twisting at the sheer annoyance in her eyes. “I wasn’t chasing you on the street.”

  She pursed her lush pink lips. “That wasn’t you?”

  “Sweetheart, as you can see, I don’t chase. I catch.”

  Anger bloomed within her, the sharp scent smacking him in his face. And hell if it wasn’t enticing—like a splash of spice mixed with something sweet. “Get off me.”

  He spared a glance down their lengths and dropped his head at the sight of his not-so-little soldier standing at full attention. Uh…

  “Now, if you don’t mind.”

  Wyatt lifted his head and glared down on her until she flinched. Like hell he was going to take orders from a sprite of a thing, trapped beneath him. “Talk,” he said, resorting to his infamous one-worded orders.

  “About?”

  He pulled his lips back in a savage snarl. She knew exactly what explanation he wanted—playing coy wasn’t going to solve matters.

  With a long sigh, she collapsed back into the undergrowth and stared up at the canopy as defeat chased across her face. “There’s nothing to explain. I was being followed, so I ran.”

  “Really.” He held her stare, waiting for her to elaborate.

  She pushed her long tresses back from her face, her nose wrinkled as she gazed up into the midnight sky. Seemed she was hell bent on ignoring him. A deep growl built up in Wyatt’s throat. People didn’t ignore him. They stood at attention and obeyed. Hence, alpha. But this little spitfire refused to look at him, let alone listen.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  She dropped her chin and pinned him with a frustrated stare that raised his hackles. “Why?”

  “Why?” Wyatt blinked. What the… No one ever questioned him.

  “Look, this really isn’t any of your business, ’kay? So, get off me.”

  The growl rumbled out of his throat.

  “Please?” she asked with a quirked mouth, as though placating him.

  “Tell ya what.” Wyatt settled down onto his elbows, his clasped hands hovering above her teasingly gorgeous breasts. “We’re going to stay right here, in this exact position, until you spill the beans.”

  “What?” she shrieked.

  Wyatt lifted his brows. “I’m not kidding.”

  “Look, I don’t know who he is!” she finally exclaimed. “But I do know I’m being watched, all right? Everywhere I go, I feel his eyes on me.”

  “Whose?”

  “His!” she shouted. “I don’t know who. I know how this sounds. But I’m telling the truth.”

  The truth about what? So far he hadn’t gotten anything of value out of her.

  “Can I go now?” she mumbled, clearly annoyed with the topic of conversation.

  Wyatt almost laughed. “Sure, darling.”

  Her eyes shot open and she gazed up at him with a look of such wonder. “Really?”

  “No.”

  Her face crumpled. “I’m sorry I attacked you! I thought…”

  “What did you think?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She raked her hands down her face and blew out a heavy breath.

  “My balls disagree.”

  She sucked in her bottom lip and shot a glance down. At the sight of him hovering above her, she swallowed and flicked him a wary glance. Because that was what a man loved to see, sheer panic at the sight of his dick. He refused to apologize for it; he was hovering above an attractive woman—gorgeous, actually—and the cock wants what the cock wants.

  “What’s your name?” he finally demanded. There were other answers he needed as well, like what the hell she was doing so close to his territory because he knew she wasn’t one of his. No way would he have been able to keep his hands off her if she were. For now, though, he’d settle for her
name.

  Her tongue flicked out and dampened her lips. And there went the rest of his blood. “Skylar. Sky Callahan.”

  He frowned. Why was her name so familiar? But rather than ask, he pushed to his feet and turned away. “Get up.”

  “Uh, where are we going?”

  Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. It was his heart that stirred this time, contracting at the sight of her meek and terrified, kneeling in the soft moonlight. Clearing his throat, he jerked his head in the direction they’d come. Keep your head on straight, boyo. No time to let the libido steal the show. “Now.” He refused to wait; instead, he turned and stalked back into the thick brush.

  ***

  Don’t cry.

  Skylar forced her lower lip still—tears wouldn’t gain her anything. Nor would the werewolf stalking through the brush ahead of her appreciate them. She’d felt how he’d tensed above her when a single tear had escaped. To their kind, strength and ferocity was revered, something Wyatt Turner possessed in spades. Snivelling over the delicate position she’d landed herself in wouldn’t endear her to anyone.

  Not that she wanted to endear herself to him. Unfortunately for Sky, anger and fear weren’t emotions she handled well. For some reason, they always resulted in tears. And right now she was both terrified and furious. At him for thinking he could control her, at herself for allowing it, and terrified because she’d thought he was going to kill her.

  Still, the last thing she wanted was to appear weak. For the past decade, she’d lived amongst humans and had picked up certain trademarks that she knew her kind wouldn’t take well to. She couldn’t imagine what he thought of her right now, a discomfiting thought that brought a curse to her lips.

  In her time with her former pack, she’d learned that dominant werewolves possessed an instinctive need to protect those weaker than them. And baby, Wyatt Turner was all kinds of dominant. If there was one thing she appreciated about human males, they at least tried to control their inner caveman. Werewolves, however, were incapable of separating themselves from that side.

  Of course, this train of thought only served to remind her that there was something she required protection from. She’d be a fool to deny it. Whoever was stalking her, he refused to keep his obsession a secret. Nothing like a few skin-crawling letters to make a girl feel wanted.

  Hot tears rushed up the back of her throat, but with a steadying breath, she tipped her head back and stared up at the starry sky. Stiff upper lip, ’ol girl, she mused. No use crying about it; tears wouldn’t solve anything. Though she couldn’t believe she’d sacked an alpha tonight. Or slugged him. Or, hell, headbutted him. Before she left her pack to pursue a career among the humans, she never would have been so brazen. The same couldn’t be said for tonight. Fear might have been gnawing at her gut, but she’d refused to lie back and let some crazed stalker have his way with her.

  She shivered.

  “Problem?”

  Wyatt’s voice broke through her thoughts. Sky startled and dropped her chin, only to find a large man looming over her. Her breath hitched at the sight of him, built like a bloody brick house. Surely there were laws against someone looking that good. And yes, she’d stolen a gander or two. Or three. The wide expanse of his tattooed shoulders and chest had her gaze dipping down to his tapered waist. And there it was, brazen as all hell, an Adonis belt that put all others to shame. Really, it should be illegal. Like federal offense with twenty-to-life sort of punishment.

  She blew out a breath and shoved her mussed hair back from her chilled face. Long ago, she’d learned that the Fates were bitches with a capital B. It wasn’t surprising that they would see fit to drop a man like Wyatt in her lap when she felt as though she’d been dragged backward through the hedge. As though her pride wasn’t rankled enough.

  Shaking her head, she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “No problem, but I should leave. You know, places to go, people to see…and all that…” Her voice trailed off, heat flushing her cheeks at the sight of his brow arching. Shane would be sick with worry for her. Not that she could call him with her phone abandoned somewhere back on the street.

  “No.”

  Sky blinked. Just like that? No? “Excuse me?”

  “No.”

  There was that word again. She slowly straightened, her eyes narrowed on him. “Listen here, Buddy.” So to ensure that he understood, she enunciated her next words, adding a final punch to each by jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “You’re not my alpha.”

  His mouth crooked at the corner, his gray eyes twinkling with restrained humor.

  “This isn’t funny!” Ire crept up the back of her neck.

  “To you.”

  The bitter taste of fresh blood coated her tongue. It wasn’t until then that she realized she’d bitten into her lip in frustration. “Look—”

  And then he was walking again, blatantly ignoring her attempt to claim control of the situation. Sky snapped her mouth shut, her teeth grinding as she stalked behind him. Sadly, her anger seemed incapable of distracting her libido, because damn, the man had an ass finer than rump roast. She swallowed and forced her eyes above the belt. No good could come from allowing her gaze to drift.

  “Why don’t we start with you telling me who your alpha is?”

  Sky snapped her eyes up, noting that comical arch of his brow as he watched her from over his shoulder. And didn’t that bust her chops, getting caught scoping out his ass like a randy school girl.

  “I don’t have one,” she grumbled.

  His deep laughter echoed through the trees. “Really.”

  “I’ll have you know that I can take care of myself. I answer to no alpha.” Chin high, she made a show of ignoring him as they pressed forward.

  “Ah, a feminist,” he said as he continued through the foliage, his steps even and controlled.

  Sky’s mouth dropped. The nerve! “Just because I’m not a member of a pack doesn’t make me a feminist! And say I was, what business is it of yours?” The bastard had no idea what had led her down this path, nor was she about to educate him in such matters. Her fingers clenched into a fist, and she found herself wondering if socking him in the jaw again was worth another fracture. She’d heard the crunch the moment she’d smoked him back there with her dusty right hook, but thankfully, werewolves healed fast. The bones had begun mending the moment she’d jerked back her hand. “And who the hell do you think you are? It’s none of your business—”

  A warning growl cut through the trees. Sky swallowed her words, and snapped her mouth closed with a click. What the hell was she thinking, scolding an alpha like that, especially one like Wyatt? Independence didn’t mean she was safe.

  He turned to face her, stalking backward through the bushes, all bunched muscles and a dark tapestry of tattoos and menacing scars. “So, what does that make you, then?”

  She blinked. “Huh?” Eloquent.

  “If you aren’t a feminist,” he repeated, “then what are you?”

  So, he didn’t know who she was then. She shoved away the disappointment, but she should have expected as much. If she recalled correctly, Wyatt kept to himself and rarely ventured into the human world. Of course, no amount of placating soothed the sting to her ego.

  Raking her hair back from her brow, she sighed. “Really tired. I want to go home, if you don’t mind.” Home. She hadn’t set foot in her little house in more than a week. And tonight, her only intention was to snatch a few hours of sleep before she needed to leave for the airport, again. But Wyatt didn’t need to know that.

  “Where do you think we’re going?”

  We? She swallowed her whimper before he heard it. The last thing she wanted was to involve him. This was her problem, not his. Hell, the human police were already involved; she didn’t need his help on top of it. “Uh, thanks. But I don’t need an escort—”

  Wyatt interrupted her with another growl, his gray eyes as dark as slate when he turned to glare at her. “You’re getting one.”

&n
bsp; Her eyes fluttered shut and she sucked in a deep breath. All right. She could work with this. It wasn’t as though he was going to force his way into her home and tuck her into bed. She snorted at the thought of the big bad wolf swaddling her in blankets and fluffing her pillows. Not in a million years.

  “Here.”

  Something large and black swatted her in the face. The clean scent of soap mixed with fur filled her nose as she batted Wyatt’s T-shirt away. “What in the world?”

  “Put it on,” he ordered as he gathered up his remaining clothes from the ground. “Then we’ll go find your clothes.”

  Grateful for something to wear, she yanked the soft cotton down over her head as he slid into his pants. The hem reached the tips of her thighs, barely covering the lower curve of her ass. “I look ridiculous.”

  Wyatt lifted his head, his hard expression vanishing in the wake of something a touch more primal. With a cocked brow, Sky took a second glance, her cheeks heating at the sight of her bare legs peeking out from the dark material. All right, so maybe ridiculous wasn’t the right word. And if the crook of his mouth was any indication, Wyatt didn’t think so either.

  Clad only in his jeans and boots, Wyatt led her through a dark labyrinth of trees, his silence unnerving. Sky secured her hair into a low knot with a thin stick, intent on asking where he was leading her, when a flash of chrome and crimson caught her eye.

  “Oh no, no, no.” She shook her head and kicked her heels into the lush earth. “You’re insane if you think I’m getting on that thing with you.”

  Wyatt snaked a large hand around her waist and yanked her closer to his boldly designed motorcycle. “What’s the problem?”

  She shook her head, her mouth a grim line. “What’s the problem? How about the fact that I’m hardly dressed! I can’t plant my bare ass on your bike.” She whimpered at the thought of riding behind him, her crotch pressed up against him. If ever there was a reason to be embarrassed…

  “You want to go home, don’t you?”

  “I can walk.”

  His other hand cinched around her waist and held her steadfast next to the seat. “This is faster.”

  “Stop manhandling me! You’re not going to convince me to get on that thing.”