Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)(47)

Oh, God, she’d managed to save herself from a bunch of thugs only to be killed in the wild by a real wolf.

She whimpered, scared out of her wits, wanting to thrash at him with her teeth but afraid he’d crush her throat. He was panting and so was she. His chest heaved, but hers even more so since she’d been running for so long. Forever, it seemed, he just held her there, not letting her up, pinning her to the forest floor, in charge, in control. Wouldn’t he be surprised if she just shifted into a woman? Yeah, and then he’d kill her for sure.

He couldn’t be thinking of mating with her, could he?

Oh, God, what a horrible thought.

She struggled a little, testing him to see his reaction. He squeezed tighter on her throat, still not hurting, but showing her he was in charge.

She might not have grown up around wolves, but she got the distinct impression his actions meant hold still, don’t move, or else. She held still. She was a quick learner.

She closed her eyes, tired from running and being up late with her dream lover and fighting the bad guys. The wolf relaxed his grip on her throat, but as soon as she moved just a hair, he clamped down again—not injuring her, just keeping her where he wanted her. She’d already gotten the point, but they couldn’t stay like this forever. What did he want with her?

The roar of an engine, braking of a vehicle, and slamming of two doors up at the road forced a fresh wave of panic to swallow her whole. She struggled to get up; the wolf forced her to lie still. He couldn’t be crazy enough to want to keep her here. What if those who were coming were Mario’s men? More than that, no wolf in its right mind would want to remain here when humans were approaching.

“Jake?” a man called out. His voice sounded eerily like the first man who had yelled after her, calling her by name.

But what had happened to that man? The wolf couldn’t have torn into him. She swallowed convulsively.

Then she reconsidered. The only one she knew by the name of Jake was Jake Silver. And the voice. The voice sounded like his. Yet he couldn’t have known she was out here. And if he’d had any inkling that she was, why had he stopped his truck by the roadside and chased after her—a wolf—calling her by name?

No way in hell could he know she was the wolf. Unless… unless Ferdinand Massaro had told him. A cold chill ran through her. She shuddered.

What if Jake was in on this with Ferdinand? What if Jake also had a vendetta against Mario? And that’s why Jake had come after her at the restaurant once he’d spied her, then made friends with her in Breckenridge, trying to keep her safe. Maybe it all had been a ploy. Keep Alicia safe from Mario’s men so that he and Ferdinand and whoever else was in their little gang could use her to do their bidding. Maybe Jake knew Ferdinand wanted Alicia for his own. Maybe Jake had also wanted her.

Because he was a werewolf, too.

She swallowed hard, her throat as parched as a dry Colorado summer. She couldn’t believe any more werewolves existed. How could she have been so naive about Jake? Thinking that he’d really cherished her like the way he’d behaved? She should have known the way he’d acted toward her wasn’t genuine. No one had ever treated her the way he had, as though he had really cared. The notion would have upset her more if she’d had time to reflect and wasn’t so desperate to get away.

As soon as she could, she had to escape the whole lot of them and disappear for good. How in the world could her life have turned so inside out?

She twitched her ears, listening to the approaching men as they ran through the woods. What if the two men headed into the forest toward Alicia and this wolf holding her hostage were all werewolves, too?

A shiver stole up her spine.

As the two people grew closer, she again instinctively struggled to free herself. And the wolf again forced her to stay still. If he’d been a normal wild wolf, he would have run off to protect himself. Even if he’d been someone’s pet, she didn’t think he could be trained to pin down another wolf until his “master” arrived.

The only saving grace? They didn’t seem to want to kill her. But she was still one of the good guys, and being the lover of anyone who would call Ferdinand Massaro friend wasn’t in the plans.

“Jake?” the man called out again and sounded worried.

The other person running with the one who was speaking remained quiet.

And then they drew close. Really close, their feet tromping through the underbrush only a few feet away. Then she saw them.

Alicia’s mouth gaped as she stared at the one man, who looked a hell of a lot like Jake Silver. His brother. Had to be.

This man was tall and broad shouldered with brown hair a little lighter than the man who had stolen her heart. This one had a more jovial expression, and his eyes were lighter. He looked so much like Jake that the similarities were uncanny, though.

“Hey, Jake, is this Alicia Greiston?” the man asked, crouching near her head, his gaze focusing on hers, but she thought he was addressing the male wolf pinning her down.

As much as she couldn’t believe it, the wolf had to be Jake Silver, her dream lover.

She took a deep breath and smelled the new man. A wolf. A sexy, virile wolf. She couldn’t believe he was one, too.

The other man joined him, his hair nearly black and his eyes just as dark. But what impressed her most was the police uniform he was wearing. And for the first time since her nightmare with the Mafia guys, she relaxed. But then she recalled Mario had a fair number of cops in his pocket. And a judge or two.