Page 12 of Alpha Bond

“Found her over at the dumps in the lower west quadrant.”

He comes up beside me, and the pair of us look down at Sierra’s motionless form.

“So, why’d you bring her back here, Law?” Titer rubs his bearded jaw.

“Injured she-wolf,” I say, though her scent makes that unmistakable. “She was in trouble, sir.” Does he really need to be told this? We don’t turn away vulnerable wolves. Especially not females. “Says her name’s Sierra Barr. I’ve never heard of her line. From up country, she says. Mountains.”

“The Uplands?” Titer’s brow furrows. “And now she’s here? We’ll need to dig a little deeper.” He steps back when she groans and puts a hand to her face. Sierra’s eyelids flutter, then snap open. She jerks into a sitting position, pulling the jacket closer. I suspect she’d back up against the corner of the sofa if she could.

“Who…? What…?” She stares around, clearly trying to get her bearings.

“Easy, darlin’,” Greyson reverts to the fatherly manner he uses when dealing with the rest of our pack. “You’re safe here. Rest easy.”

“What happened?” She looks at me, tugging her skirt down where it’s ridden up her thighs. I glance away as she does it.

“You passed out. I carried you back.” I meet her eyes and see her swallow hard. She’s not pleased with how vulnerable her position had been. “You’re safe now,” I echo Titer’s previous words. “This is Greyson Titer. He’s our alpha. He’ll see that you’re all right.” I turn smartly to face him. “Will that be all, sir?” Our pack structure doesn’t dictate that I defer to him in this way, but I like the formality of it. The reminder that he’s my superior. It’s good on days when my reckless instincts urge me to challenge him. That would be foolish.

“The girl could use a meal, Law.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you rustle something up for her?”

Great. My work here’s not done. Now I’m playing butler to the woman. I’d hoped to put distance between us. Having her almost sitting on my head was altogether too close.

“I’ll call down to the canteen, sir.” I turn to go to the door.

“Wait!” It’s her. I look back over my shoulder. “Are you…? Will you come back?” Her voice is hesitant.

Both of Titer’s brows are raised now.

“Sure,” I reply.Fuck.I liked it better when she was shoving me away. Or maybe I’m kidding myself. Because in the warm light of Titer’s office, her face is sweet and haunting. And now I’m finding myself wondering what she’d look like after a bath and with a few meals under her belt.

Oh, hell no, Law!

I reach for the door and slam it behind me as I step through.

Hell to the fucking no!

Chapter 7

Sierra

I’m strangely unsettled as the tall male leaves the room, leaving me alone with the other. Although, it should be a relief. The alpha looking down at me radiates a benign strength that, ordinarily, would set my mind at ease.

“Where d’ya hail from, honey?” he asks, his accent softer than the clipped city speak Jagger had used. He takes a step back when I eye him cautiously, as if giving me space. Barrel-chested and weathered, his head is shaved, with a thick stubble of silver. A grizzled beard frames his jawline and mouth. A mouth that looks like it smiles easily. He reminds me of the older mated wolves from my pack back home. Safe. Protective. I should be gravitating to him like a moth. Yet I keep finding my eyes flicking to the door that remains closed.

“The mountains,” I murmur, then press my lips together when he nods for me to continue. I’m still not comfortable dishing out information to these people, though it seems they’ve formed a strong community here. The room I’m in is warm and comfortable; a converted shipping container that now holds well-worn office furniture. I’m seated on a sofa upholstered in leather that must have seen years of wear because it’s soft and faded.

“You got folks looking for ya?” he asks when it’s clear I’m not going to say more about where I’ve come from. His question gives me pause.

Folks looking for me…

I feel myself swallow.

Who’s left after the attack? Did they take all of them? I know there have been raids in the past – whenever our young come of age. The fertile females are always the target. Males end up as collateral damage, and I feel panic rise as I wonder what might have happened to Pops and my brother. When I see Greyson still watching me, I shrug and bow my head.

“No,” I finally say, though part of me is praying that I’m wrong. The raiders aren’t stupid. They know if they wipe out our entire pack, there’ll be none left for the next onslaught. And females like us are pure gold in the rapidly thinning population we come from.

“Not even a mate?” I hear Greyson asking. He’s dipped his head slightly, his nostrils flaring. He’s trying to tell if I’ve been claimed, and I’m almost tempted to tell him I am. An unmated female is always vulnerable out alone. But I think I’d be safe in this place. Besides, as much as these questions are probing into dangerous territory, I know he’s just looking out for the interest of his pack. I’m going to make waves.

“No mate.” I finally shake my head because there’s no point denying it. They’ll sniff it out as soon as I’ve rinsed Rack’s smell off me. I don’t carry a mate scent. My first fertile cycle will have every available male howling to test for a bond. That’s if they even wait that long.

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