Page 10 of Cowboy Wolf Christmas

And he didn’t think she was weird. He thought she was perfect.

Too good for him.

Too good he hadn’t even thought she could be real, at first. But now he regretted that.

She shrunk into the truck cab, that sparkle in her eyes dimming. Silas didn’t know what exactly her packmate’s cruelty meant to her, but he didn’t need to.

He didn’t think. He simply moved.

He was gripping the other Grey Wolf alpha by the back of his head before he could blink, holding the other wolf by a fistful of hair. He slammed the asshole’s face down onto the edge of the truck bed with a satisfying crunch of broken nose. Blood poured from the wound, drenching the other wolf’s flannel shirt.

Asshole howled. “What the fuck?” He pawed at his face.

But Silas wasn’t finished yet.

Without warning, he tore his blade from his boot, thankful that the pack hadn’t declawed him ofallhis weapons. Yet.

He shoved the tip of his dagger against the bastard’s throat, backing him up against the truck until he forced him to expose the skin of his neck. Had they been in wolf form, who the dominant wolf was couldn’t have been any clearer.

“Yeah, she’s different,” Silas growled. “But who the fuck isn’t?”

What the hell evenwasnormal for wolf shifters anyway?

Inches from the other wolf’s face, he snarled, teeth bared. “Insult her again and I’ll fucking end you. Are we clear?”

Asshole gave a single, curt nod.

Silas released him with a harsh shove––not bothering to see if he landed on the truck bed or in the mixture of dirt and snow.

Without looking back, he climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut behind him and locking the doors. Cheyenne passed him the keys. The truck’s old engine roared to life, churning and sputtering as he pressed down the gas pedal. They were nearly at the edge of the Grey Wolves’ ranchlands, heading out onto the nearest highway before either one of them spoke again.

“Why’d you do that?” Cheyenne whispered.

She spoke the words so quietly that if it wasn’t for the snow dampening the sounds of the winter winds, he wasn’t certain he would have heard her.

“Why’d you defend me like that?” she asked again.

“I don’t know.” He switched on the truck’s heater, refusing to take his eyes from the road. A few seconds later, the heater purred, spilling warmth into the cab. Though Silas’ blood already felt heated, warm. It did every time he was near her. He gave a rough clear of his throat. “Why’d you believe me?” He dared glance toward her then.

She was watching him with eyes so wide and owlish it was like she’d never seen him before. A man could easily get lost in the amber warmth in them.

He cleared his throat again. “That first night. In the cells, I mean.”

“Because it wasn’t fair,” she whispered. “You were there because of other people’s fear. Not your actions.”

Silas shook his head, navigating the truck out onto the freshly salted roads. “I didn’t ask why you let me out.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I asked why youbelievedme?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just did.”

Silas nodded. Shifting the old truck’s clutch into first gear. He understood the feeling.

And the thought terrified him.

4

Cheyenne loved the feeling of grease on her hands. She laid on her back underneath one of the Missoula subpack’s abandoned trucks, working to disconnect the hydraulic plow. Okay, maybelovewas an exaggeration, but it was one of the few textures she could tolerate.

It was partially why she’d became a mechanic. That and her fascination with anything which had a motor, an engine, gears. Back at Wolf Pack Run, the pack had several larger, more industrial sized machines for when they were snowed in, but this little Husqvarna attachment could reach narrower places, and the one back at the main ranch had puttered out.

---