Page 1 of Frank's Felon
Chapter One
FRANK
Frank shifted to his wolf form. That scent that had been driving him crazy for the past four days wrapped around him like a rope, tying him up in knots, making it hard to think. Female. There was no question about it. That delicate floral scent with a hint of vanilla bean definitely belonged toher. Her scent trail had him racing back and forth across the border, teasing him, toying with him, distracting him enough that he had ventured three miles deep into Drake’s territory without thinking about the repercussions.
He didn’t know what game she was playing, but it needed to end. He compromised every member of the pack by letting her distract him, letting her draw him over the border. Yet he couldn’t get that scent, that maddeningly sensuous scent, out of his mind.
“Frank?” Mason called from the distance.
A quick look at the landscape told Frank that the female had lured him beyond his zone—again. Ethan, his replacement, must have shown up only to panic and report Frank missing instead of searching the immediate area. The young shifter was eager to do well, but his instincts weren’t what they should be for a guard, not even close. Frank would have to take a firmer hand in his training or talk to Damien about re-assigning him.
A howl sounded. Mason again, this time using his wolf to call further into the forest as he searched for Frank. Without the wind to carry Frank’s scent, Mason was sending up a call, counting on Frank to answer. Mason didn’t alarm easily, which meant he was more concerned than usual if he was howling. The enforcer was still on the proper side of the border, unlike Frank.
Howling from Drake’s side of the border was risky, but if Frank didn’t answer Mason soon, the enforcer would cross over, searching for him. Frank forced himself to turn around and head back. Maybe by the time he reached Mason, Frank would figure out what to tell him, something not as embarrassing as admitting he had let some damn female lure him over the border. Frank could admit that to anyone except Mason. Frank had scorned Mason about falling for the very same tactic nearly six years ago when Mason was a new guard.
Before Frank reached the border, Mason leapt into his path, forcing him to stop short. “You okay?” Mason asked as soon as he shifted to human form. A second later, Mason caught the female’s scent in the wind and his concern turned into a grin.
“I don’t care that you outrank me, Mason,” Frank said, shoving his way past the younger shifter. “I can still take you down with one arm tied behind my back.”
Fortunately, Mason didn’t say anything. While Mason had risen in rank during those five years Frank had been in prison, Frank didn’t begrudge him his appointment as the pack’s enforcer while Callen helped Hayden with Drake’s pack. Mason had worked hard, had good instincts—generally—and was fair-minded. Much like Callen. While most males could be trained to be guards, very few had the right personality to handle the demands and challenges of being an enforcer.
“Damien offered you the position,” Mason said as he fell in step next to Frank.
“Not my thing. I prefer to be outside, in the fresh air.”
Mason fell silent.
Frank knew the younger shifter still blamed himself for what had happened six years ago. Frank wasn’t going to rehash this discussion. He didn’t blame Mason or Takara for his stint in prison. It was ancient history at this point. Mostly. The point was, Frank did what he needed to do to save Takara and the baby, to save all of them. Frank had no regrets.
“Peach pie,” Frank said. “And corn. No more brussels sprouts.”
Frank had a standing dinner invitation at Mason’s house. He had been feeling out of sorts lately and had been blowing off Sunday dinners with them. While he could do without Mason looking at him with that guilty mug of his, Frank hadn’t seen Mason and Takara’s daughter in a while. He needed an hour or two of doing nothing but listening to the little chatterbox talk about school and friends. Maybe then he could forget about that female’s scent that clung to his soul like a noose around his neck.
“Those are Frankie’s food preferences, not yours.”
“Maybe.” Frank hid his smile, thinking of his god daughter.
“You cater to her too much,” Mason added.
“I enjoy making her smile, seeing her happy.”
Mason washed a hand through his hair. “I get that, but—”
“You can say no to me, Mason. She’s your daughter. You don’t owe me anything. Never have.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? This guilt you have. . . Get over it. And clear a spot at the table. I need to see a face that’s happy to see me.”
“I’m happy to see you.”
Frank cocked his head to the side and glared.
“I’m just worried about you, Frank. You’re breaking all your own rules. Leaving your post, going miles deep into Drake’s territory without backup, without telling anyone. That’s not like you. Whoever that scent belongs to––”
“You even mouth the words ‘honeytrap’ and I’m going to have to figure out a damn good excuse to tell Frankie why her dad came home with a broken nose tonight.”
Mason side-stepped away from Frank.
