The Wolf's Choice Read online

  Blaine raised an eyebrow.

  “You didn’t read my mind!”

  “Your face.”

  She grimaced. “Will it be okay?”

  “How about we run together first and then we join Niq?” And the pack, remained unsaid.

  “See you guys later. I’m late for dinner!” Niq smiled as he dashed past them.

  Blaine shook his head. “I’d love to see him with his mate one day. I’ll remind him of how much grief he gave us.”

  “He would only be interested if she came from a parallel universe.”

  He chuckled and tugged her closer. “How do you feel?”

  “Anxious.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’m here with you. We all are.”

  Her eyes burned. He didn’t have to say it. She hadn’t been in contact with her father since the challenge. His recovery had been slower than Blaine’s, but he didn’t walk with a limp anymore. How did she know? Though he shunned her, she still kept tabs on him to check if he was all right.

  Blaine hugged her. “You’ve got me, the pack, and Drew to help you.”

  She struggled not to let the tears fall. Dad’s rejection would always hurt.

  “Hey, I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.

  At midnight, they went outside. Blaine wouldn’t shift until she had. She let out a breath.

  “Don’t look so grave, it will be fun.”

  “Why do men always say that when what they mean is it’ll be fun for them?”

  “We might be referring to two different things.”

  She scowled.

  “Trust me.”

  “I do.”

  He held out his hand like he had many years ago at the swimming hole. And like then, she placed hers in his.

  They stepped out onto the sidewalk where wolves in different sizes and colors waited for her. Awareness rippled under her skin.

  She tilted her head. No clouds obscured the moon. It shone brightly on all of them.

  Gee had explained the alpha would exercise his dominance and help her wolf’s transition. But her mate needed to assist him to keep her balanced. With the passage of time, this wouldn’t be needed with every change.

  “Will everyone watch?” she whispered.

  “Not if you don’t want them to.”

  She worked her bottom lip. “Uh, how about we skip the audience for now?”

  Drew trotted toward her. He also shifted during a full moon. His power rippled over her like a pebble in the water, ringing and spreading out in waves. She understood he kept his influence in check to not frighten her.

  He howled, and the rest of the wolves dispersed. Those who hadn’t transformed yet strolled to the edge of town.

  “Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” She feigned bravado. She stepped off the sidewalk and onto the street. The moonlight tugged at her, and her wolf became restless. “She wants out.”

  Blaine touched her shoulder and ran his hand down her arm so their fingers interlaced. The simple connection oriented her. Her wolf drank in their mate. His presence soothed her like no one else could.

  “She’s ready.” He referred to her wolf.

  With a nod, he stepped away from her. She looked up at the moon again and to Blaine. His bright eyes bored into hers. He had partially shifted.

  The world became sharper, focused. Her heart drummed. Her fingernails broke skin as she fisted her hands.

  “Take a breath.”

  She inhaled. She almost forgot to breathe. She shut out the world, and there stood the white wolf. A thrill went through her. Me. I’m seeing myself.

  With the knowledge, her bones shifted, cracked. Her back popped. She fell forward and landed on her hands and knees.

  “Ah!”

  Paws appeared in front of her, and the next time she opened her mouth, a snarl escaped. Her legs shortened, fur popped out, itching and hurting at the same time.

  Though an overwhelming sense of being free eclipsed the pain, relief echoed through her mind.

  She yapped and bounced. Laughter built up inside of her but came out as barks. That’s going to take some getting used to.

  Rebecca. Her alpha called her, and Rebecca lay down, exposing her neck in submission. He touched her flank with his paw.

  She flipped upright again. Then, as he stared into her eyes, their minds connected, and she formed part of a bigger consciousness.

  A high-pitched howl came from deep inside of her. From all over, wolves joined her, and she understood what it meant to be part of a pack. Blaine crouched next to her, running his fingers through her fur. Drew had taken off into the woods to join the others, seeming to sense they needed this time together.

  “You’re beautiful…amazing.” He touched her, and she sniffed him, imprinting his scent to her wolf memory.

  She barked at him to shift, too, and he laughed. “Hold your horses or rather, wolf.”

  He shifted, his transition seamless.

  They were about to run when her hackles went up. Blaine had already spotted the black wolf stalking toward them and moved in front of her.

  The black wolf came to a standstill a good distance from them and then shifted. Dad. Now she knew why the scent had been so familiar.

  “Can I talk to both of you?”

  Blaine turned to her, and she did a wolfy nod. Or at least what she thought a wolfy nod looked like.

  Blaine stood poised but held the growling at bay—Dad’s cue to continue.

  “I know you can’t shift as quickly because it’s your first time. And I don’t want you to see me as a threat. It’s why I’m talking to you in my human form….” His voice broke.

  She moved forward, but Blaine snarled.

  She cocked her head.

  “I’m sorry, Rebecca. You were all I had after your mother…. Losing you became an irrational fear.” He swallowed hard. “I went a bit insane when your mother died. It’s not an excuse. But it is the truth. I’m sorry I lied to you…and kept you from being a wolf. I was selfish, again. I didn’t want to lose what made being alive worth it, but, in the end, I did lose you.”

  She moved toward him again, and, this time, Blaine stepped out of her way. Tears streamed down her father’s face.

  She wished she could tell him she understood. Now that she had Blaine, she knew what it meant to be bonded to someone who, if they should ever leave, your soul would leave with them.

  She stopped in front of him, and he crouched. His shoulders shook, and he held out his arms.

  Dad. The word came out as a howl. She bounced into his arms because she hadn’t worked out how to use her transformed body yet.

  He crushed her to him. “I love you.”

  She burst with feeling. Blaine growled behind her; his presence kept her grounded, stilling the emotional storm. Her fur rippled from suppressed energy.

  “He’s better than I was. He knows what to do. I didn’t.”

  She nudged him, and he reluctantly let go of her. She went to Blaine, and they touched snouts.

  Turning to her father, she inclined her head then yapped to the woods. Come with us?

  He shifted and came over to sniff her. She growled at him when he licked her tail. Blaine whined.

  Now that Blaine and her father were with her, the earth, woods, river, and night called out to her. She trotted down the street, and, as her unsteady legs became accustomed to the motion, her strides became stronger.

  A loud bark caused her to come to an abrupt stop. She had forgotten about Blaine and Dad. She laughed, and it came out as high-clipped howls.

  Blaine sprinted to her, her father followed closely behind him, and then they flanked her as they ran to the edge of town and entered the dark forest.

  You’ll always have me, the black wolf barked.

  And me, the g
ray one yapped at her.

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  Chapter One

  Emma carefully shifted her weight to her other foot as she maneuvered the huge cardboard box in her arms. Her handbag was slung over one shoulder, with a carrier over the other. Both were supposed to serve the purpose of leveling out the weight with her small frame.

  But her handbag, though heavy, wasn’t as bulky as her carrier, and she ended up standing lopsided in front of the door, wondering what she should put down first so she could reach the keys in her front jean pocket.

  She blew air out. Spring had decided to deceptively turn itself into a summer day. Sweat beaded on her forehead and pooled under her arms.

  Emma gave up and dropped the box filled with her collection of holiday reads. It landed with a thud on the front steps, and she glanced over her shoulder, knowing she polluted the silence and tranquility of the place. After a couple seconds of heavy breathing, she fished out the house keys.

  In as much as she didn’t want to barge in on her sister and her brother-in-law, she wasn’t above taking up their offer of staying in their beach house.

  It must really be nice to have a heart surgeon for a husband. She enthusiastically unlocked the door.

  She had planned a laze-filled holiday. She could finish her books, go for a swim if she wanted, lie around on the beach, and do all the things tourists did in Strand—act like she hadn’t been born a native Western Caper.

  Her smile broadened as she considered her friend and colleague Nomsa Blom in the fold of the family coop, trying to stave off pressing questions of why she was still single.

  She pushed her heavy load inside, having given up the will to pretend she could carry it farther, then dropped both bags next to her and took a deep, soothing breath.

  From the entryway, the interior was awash in shades of blue and white. A turquoise Nomadic-styled rug anchored the light floor with linen sofas and a wing-back chair. A chaise lounge stood next to a closed window with a side table with a lamp on it and in another corner stood a rattan desk with a shell mirror against the wall above.

  The beach house seemed fresh and cool in the late afternoon. After the uncomfortable drive, with the cooling system breaking down right outside of town, this was a blessed relief. It spelled out calm. The spacious and elegant front room also included a dining area in a sea-themed tableau. Emma didn’t waste too much time studying it though; the patio with deck chairs the same design as the interior called to her like a siren’s call.

  The house was situated on the beach; with a couple of steps, she’d be in the blue Atlantic Ocean.

  “How did I get so lucky?” She laughed.

  The ocean came across as a Renaissance oil painting especially with the Hottentots Holland Mountain range as a backdrop from her visual point. She wanted to step right into it, but she couldn’t ruin her light blue jeans or the frilly chemise she wore. She stared down at her simple black ballet flats.

  What if I took off my clothes? She glanced around the empty beach, not used to stripping down in public.

  It was, after all, an exclusive, privately owned beach.

  Reckless for the first time in her life, she stripped off her denims and kicked off her shoes. Once she got started, she couldn’t stop. The chemise joined her jeans and shoes, and she stood with a huge smile in her nude bra and panties—never one to mismatch her underwear.

  Emma didn’t rush to the water; instead, she took leisurely steps like she had all the time in the world.

  And she did, at least two weeks, anyway.

  The waters of False Bay lapped the sandy beach, and she stared at the waves for a moment before stepping into the ocean, and tingles rushed all the way through her toes to the top of her head. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she ran into the ocean shrieking.

  While the day had been warm, it was still spring, and the cold took her breath away, but her sweat-covered body welcomed it. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop her shrill screams and hysterical laughter as she rode the waves, not even bothering to swim.

  The tension in her arms left as she stretched out on her back and let the sea pull her to the shore. When she reached the shallow waters, she basked in the sun. Sufficiently toasty, Emma rose out of the ocean, refreshed and glad she hadn’t caved to go with Nomsa, even after her teary-eyed plea. She shook out her wet, curly hair.

  Nomsa needed to learn to put her foot down and speak up for herself. There was nothing wrong with being thirty and unmarried, no matter what her mother and aunts said. She wasn’t past her childbearing years.

  Emma snorted as she reached her pile of clothes, grabbed them, and headed toward the house.

  And what’s the big deal anyway? If you couldn’t have children, adopt.

  Something she herself had seriously considered. So many children needed a good, loving, and caring home. She could provide it for them. Her unmarried status might make the whole adoption process a bit difficult, but she was willing to give it a try.

  Didn’t I close the front door? She frowned. How careless of me!

  She didn’t put her clothes back on, only lumped them together, shoes and all, and hurried back into the house via the still-open patio. Emma released a loud, earsplitting scream.

  Before her stood a half-naked man, dressed only in a white towel.

  As this knowledge registered, so did the fact she wore little else but her underwear. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and she still hadn’t stopped screaming.

  “Would you stop that!” the half-naked stranger yelled in a deep baritone, causing her to clip her mouth shut.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here? I’m calling the police!”

  He didn’t flinch; instead, he turned his back on her and walked to the small side table next to a big white-and-blue sofa.

  Before his huge frame obscured her vision, she made out a black cordless phone. Her chest heaved while she mutely watched him pick up the phone.

  This must be an aberration brought on by the effects of frolicking in the ocean; there was no way she was having a confrontation with a half-naked man, in her sister’s house, on the first day of her stress-free beach holiday.

  Her brain hiccupped at her illogical conclusion. Nope, what’s happening is, in fact, real.

  “I’m sick and tired of this,” he said into the phone and gave her a glare over his shoulder. “If it’s not underwear in the mail, naked photos on my windshield, it’s an intruder running around naked in my home.” His fiery eyes burned holes into her.

  “What?” she blurted. She clutched her dry clothes in front of herself. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  He gave a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t play dumb now. I’ve had enough of stalkers. It’s not sexy. It’s not attractive. It’s borderline. That’s what it is. Borderline crazy.”

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. I’m not a stalker.”

  But he didn’t listen to her as he talked to the person on the other end, who she deduced was the police. Without thinking her actions logically through, like she was prone to do, she made a mad dash for the phone and caught him off guard. She snatched it out of his hand and ended the call. Then threw it across the room for good measure.

  “I’m not a stalker!” she shrieked. His flame-throwing eyes bored into hers.

  She didn’t care how he perceived her in that moment. He wasn’t going to turn her into some kind of criminal.

  “I don’t know who you are. But this is not your house,” Emma said, ignoring the slight tremor in her voice.

>   He snorted. “Not only did you guarantee yourself a night behind bars, but you’re also going to be charged with destruction of property. My property. And let’s not forget the breaking into my home part.”

  Emma couldn’t believe what was happening. This must be some kind of joke.

  Her rational primary schoolteacher part took over. She took a much-needed breath and said, in the calmest voice she could manage under the circumstances, “ I honestly don’t know who you are. I have a key. My brother-in-law said I could use his house. This house.”

  For a moment, silence reigned as he stared at her. Something flickered in his eyes, but she couldn’t make out what it meant. “What’s your brother-in-law’s name?” He lost some of his hostility.

  “Mark Davidson.” She might be getting somewhere; despite their half-dressed state, his stance became less menacing. A deep frown settled on his brow. “It’s his house. I mean…gosh, I don’t really know how to prove it, other than giving you his number and you calling him, but I don’t know how it could work, since he could be tied up in surgery and you won’t get to talk to him. Still I’m not…a stalker.” She choked out the word.

  “I’m Mark’s brother.”

  She lost her captured breath. Mark’s brother, who had left home and herd after having a spat with their father about not going into medicine. He’d wanted to pursue an acting career, unheard of in their very academic family.

  In the year and a half her sister had gone out with Mark, she hadn’t met his younger brother once. Everyone, especially Mark, had expected him to come to the wedding. He was even supposed to be the best man. However, he got nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Academy Award. Though he didn’t win, the honor of being nominated was something in itself.

  Before her stood Damian Davidson in all his glory. No wonder he thinks I’m a stalker.

  She should have recognized him. She didn’t watch a lot of artsy movies, but she had seen one or two of his when he was starting out. Of course, it had been over seven years ago. She bit the inside of her mouth.