Page 12 of Cowboy Wolf Christmas

Silas nipped again at her side, the scruff of her neck until she turned her attention to him. He jumped, spreading out his paws in a wide stance to indicate he was about to run, and she should join him. She didn’t think. She just trusted him. She had from the start.

She didn’t know why, but she’d known he was good. Noble. Even then.

Silas ran through the snow, leading the way as she followed. Far enough until she felt like all fear of the vampires had been forgotten. On paw like this she felt stronger. Fiercer. Like her teeth and claw would be enough. Even if Silas’ failed her. Not that she was certain any vampire would manage to get through him. The Wild Eight may have been their enemies, but they’d been intense fighters. A force to be reckoned with. Even for the Grey Wolf pack.

He led her deeper and deeper into the darkness of the ranch. As if he knew exactly where he was going. Like he had a plan. The snow had picked up so intensely that even in her wolf form, she could hardly see two feet in front of her. But still, Silas kept going, leading the way.

He didn’t stop until they reached an abandoned cabin.

One more secluded, away from the rest.

Drawing up on the door, he shifted back into human form, using the whole of his strength to force the door open enough for them to slip through the crack. Snow was already starting to block the underside, but still, he ushered her in. She didn’t shift back into her skin again until he’d closed the door and locked it behind them. Giving herself a little shiver from head to toe, she shook the snow from her limbs, trying not to pay attention to the fact that she was naked, and he was too. It was part of pack life. Normal for them and their species, and yet . . .

In the darkness, alone with him, she felt exposed in a way she shouldn’t have.

Cheyenne breathed out a rough breath. Even in the cabin she could see it swirl in the cold. She was even colder now that she was back in human form. “Are you certain there were vampires out there? I didn’t see anything.”

Though she’d felt them. She just hadn’t fully settled into the idea they’d been near danger just yet. Because running with him, being in wolf form as they raced across the mountainside together had felt so freeing, and she hadn’t quite figured out her own emotions about that.

“Gut instinct,” Silas grumbled. As if that explained everything.

It didn’t.

Cheyenne shook her head, barely paying attention to the dark abandoned cabin around them.

Silas tried to flip on one of the light switches but not even a bulb flickered. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath. “And no phone either. Great. Just great.”

Cheyenne couldn’t begin to understand what was remotely great about that. Sarcasm was confusing. “We can’t stay here long. Not if they’re out there. We need to grab that part and get back on the road.”

Silas shook his head, casting a frustrated glance at her through the dark. All she could see of him right now was a pair of glowing gold eyes and a dark outline of his muscled form. “We’re not getting back on the road tonight.”

“What?” Inside, Cheyenne reeled. Panicked. Her pulse started to race. “Wehaveto. You heard the packmaster. We need to be home by morning for the shift-and-run.”

Most of the adults in the pack participated, planned on it. It was part of her routine, seeing them off. Every year. And this year, she’d finally worked up the courage to participate.

“They can wait.” Silas’ lip curled in distaste. “Maverick would want you to.”

Why did he say the packmaster’s name like that? So full of resentment? “They’re not going to wait. They’re going to—”

“—Yourpackmaster tasked me with protecting you. Keeping you safe.” His dark eyes flashed. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

She blinked at him. “He’s your packmaster too.”

Silas grumbled. “In name only. Even he knows it.”

Cheyenne recoiled. “What’sthatsupposed to mean? You’re a Grey Wolf now.”

At her reaction, something inside Silas seemed to snap then, whatever tenuous leash he seemed to have on himself breaking. He rounded on her, drawing close. Close enough she could see the outline of his lips through the darkness. The fullness of them. She could feel him almost pressed against her. His closeness and warmth.

“Even if I wanted to be, your packmates wouldn’t let me,” he hissed. There seemed to be more meaning in those words than he was letting on, something emotional, but Cheyenne couldn’t parse it out right now.

Not when she was faced with all . . . this.

The chaotic feeling that roared inside her at the sudden change of plans.

The glare of the moon. The unfamiliar creak of the floorboards. It was all too much.

She was two tiny steps away from overstimulation, teetering on the edge unless she managed to get a hold of it. She tried to force herself to breathe, to take slow breaths in and out through her nose.

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