Moira Rogers - Wilder’s Mate

She lifted it higher, and a frown formed between her brows when he picked it up in one hand. “A chemical compound. There are two chambers, and the chemicals mix when the glass breaks to create a focused burst of light. If you hit a vampire in the right place, one will take him down.”

“Which place is the right one?”

“The head. Maybe the neck or gut. The chest, if the heart is already exposed.” He nodded his understanding and offered her a smile. “All right. This newfangled shit might keep you alive.”

She swung the bags across her horse’s back, and one small hand fell to the pistol holstered at her hip, fingers brushing it for an instant before she scrambled up onto her horse. “Mine’s a modified six-shooter, but the ammunition works the same way, and I’m a fair shot. I wasn’t planning on getting myself killed.” He was starting to see that, and it made him feel like a jackass for assuming she couldn’t take care of herself. “Sorry.”

Surprise widened her green eyes, like she couldn’t quite believe the word had crossed his lips. She tightened her fingers around her reins and nodded her acknowledgement. “Nate and Levi all but raised me.

Levi wasn’t tender with anyone’s feelings, especially if he thought flattery might put someone in harm’s way, so I’m plenty aware of my physical limitations.”

From where he sat, it didn’t look like she had any. “You don’t have to be at a disadvantage when it comes to fighting. Bigger usually means slower. Use that.”

“Nathaniel always told me to use my head.” She guided her horse forward, riding like it was second nature. “I’ll do whatever you tell me when it comes to a fight. I only want to bring him home.”

“Then we just might have a chance.” He nudged his horse and headed for the edge of town. “Where are you from? Nate never said.”

Something about that made her laugh. “Of course not. I’ve lived in this town all my life.”

“Local girl, huh?”

“Something like that. How do you know Nathaniel? I know bloodhounds come to visit him sometimes, but I don’t think I’ve seen you.”

Nathaniel had been one of the first people he’d met when he’d started hunting. “Levi trained me. Back when he still lived up north.”

“Almost eleven years ago.” The number came so fast it had to have been burned in her memory.

“Levi was…fond of my mother. We came to live with him not long after he arrived.” There was only one woman Levi had ever valued enough to keep near. “Ada was your mother?” Satira stiffened so fast her horse sidled before she tightened her hands on the reins. “Yes.” Another thing Nate had never mentioned. “Levi talked about her sometimes. He…” He’d loved her, as much as he’d been able. “Yes, he was fond of her.”

“Yes, he was.” Her voice held tension, and loss. “He didn’t have to take us in. He didn’t have to give me a home when she died.”

The old man hadn’t often spoken of things like sentiment. “You were family.” Her lips twitched. “I was Ada’s girl, and as welcome most days as a stone in his shoe.” Levi hadn’t been a particularly warm man, but he was ruthlessly practical. “He may not have been handing over pretty words and hugs, but he provided for you. With a man like that, it’s all the same.”

“He never saw much use for pretty words and hugs.” A brief hesitation, and Wilder picked up the rapid beat of her heart, fast and nervous enough to belie her calm expression. “If you brought me with you intending to have a warm body during the new moon, I’m not unwilling.” Wilder’s jaw clenched. She didn’t think much of him, if she thought he’d plan to take that sort of liberty without asking. “Takes a damn sight more than ‘not unwilling’ to heat my blood, girl.” He grinned because he knew it would fluster her. “I like my women enthusiastic.” Color rose in her cheeks, but her eyes glinted with stubborn challenge. “It’s a wonder you find any, unless you take care not to speak to them first.”

“Funny,” he murmured. “I’ve never had a problem, discussion or no.”

“I was wrong. Thirty pounds of ego, and I pity your poor horse.” Wilder laughed. “He’s accustomed to my insufferable bullshit.”

“I suppose he would have to be. Do you think we’ll be able to rescue Nathaniel and return before the new moon, then?”

Despite her light tone, she was eyeing him with unmistakable interest. Perhaps her questions about the moon phase had less to do with her low opinion of him and more with her own curiosity. “If not, I’ll make arrangements,” he told her.

“I see.” She rubbed the palm of one hand against her dusty trousers, a nervous gesture that matched the quick way her gaze jumped away from him to her horse’s ear. “I’ve never crossed the border before.

Nathaniel took me out to the Deadlands a few times when I was younger…”

“But not after you…blossomed?” It was the most polite way he could think of to refer to her considerable curves.

Satira looked like she wanted to cross her arms over her chest again, but she only shrugged. “He said it wasn’t a good place for a young woman.”

Wilder had seen women traded and sold there, either as whores or meals, and not enough of them had been willing participants in the transactions. “He’s right.”

“I know. I’ll do what I have to do, just like anyone.”

She would have run off, unaccompanied. She’d planned on it. The knowledge made Wilder’s gloved fingers tighten around his horse’s reins. “Remember what you agreed to, honey. What I say, when I say it.”

“I remember.” And she sounded grumpy about it too.

The afternoon sun gilded her pale skin, and a hint of breeze ruffled the golden strands of hair that curled around her face. She’d burn without a hat or bonnet, but something told him she wouldn’t appreciate him pointing it out.

They made it out of town before she spoke again, glancing at him with both eyebrows raised. “The plan isn’t to walk the horses the entire way, is it? I can handle a hard ride.” Leading words, ones she’d meant to make him think of fucking. Of sweat and bare skin and the delicious, wet grip of an eager cunt around his cock. “Hope to hell that’s true, sweetheart.” He urged his horse into a gallop without turning or waiting to see if she could keep up. If she wanted to play dirty, so could he.

Wilder didn’t hold the gallop for long, but he pushed them hard enough that Satira knew her bluff had been called.

Not that she wasn’t a decent rider. Levi had made sure she could sit a horse and stay in the saddle no matter how rough the ride, but she wasn’t accustomed to it.

By the time they stopped—to camp, not in a town where she might enjoy the luxury of a hot bath—

Satira thought it might be a blessing if she died on the spot. Almost better than facing the humiliation of trying to dismount and ending up in the dirt.

“Having trouble?” Wilder slid from his horse with enviable ease.

“No.” Liar. She stroked her horse’s neck and gathered every bit of stubborn will she possessed, everything that held her together.

Then she swung her leg over the horse’s back and almost cried.

He caught her before her feet hit the ground. “You don’t know when to admit you’ve had enough, do you, little one?”

If she’d thought she could stand on her own, she would have driven her heel into his balls. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a child.”

The sound that passed his lips was half laugh, half groan. “I know. You’re rubbing your ass up against me.”

Her aching thighs had provided suitable distraction from their relative positions until he called attention to it—and the sheer power that resided in him. Strong hands spanned her rib cage, holding her effortlessly. She wiggled one foot, trying to reach the ground, and let out a frustrated noise when he held her there, snuggled back sweet as can be.

He was warm. And hard. Hard all over and getting harder by the second where his hips bumped against her ass. “It appears you like our respective positions just fine.”

“I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

“So far.” The threat lacked heat—she didn’t want him to put her down.

Wilder laughed and eased her down until a little of her weight rested on her feet. “Take it easy. You’ll need to.”

“I know.” A better woman might have pulled away and kept a shred of dignity, but her body wasn’t interested in the state of her pride. Few decent men were willing to be caught dallying with the daughter of a notorious whore, and few indecent men had been eager to brave Levi’s wrath, not when they could pay a few coins for an uncomplicated fuck from a far more experienced woman.

No, her bed had been cold for a good, long while. Her life had been cold since the last time a hound had come to town and bedded her with the enthusiasm of any untamed creature. Perhaps she’d developed a taste then for wild, inappropriate men. It would explain her current madness.

“Ready?”

If she said no, he might keep holding her. If she said no, she’d look like a fool. “Yes.” Wilder released her, though his hands lingered, sliding from her rib cage down to the flare of her hips.

“Got your footing?” he asked, his voice a low rasp.

Enough was enough. “Hard to get my footing with you gripping my hips like you’re ready to take me for a different sort of ride.”

“My apologies.” He sounded anything but sorry as he pulled his hands away.

The loss of his touch hurt more than her aching body, and it was only then she realized that sex wasn’t driving her. It would be a welcome distraction, to be sure, but the hot press of his body had been something else entirely: proof she wasn’t alone.

Her fingers tightened around the saddle, and she swallowed hard. “I should see to my horse.” He caught her arm. “Are you all right, Satira?”

Weakness was unacceptable. How many times had Levi pushed her to the edge of tears and sighed his disappointment? Bloodhounds were strong. Unwavering. To earn Wilder’s respect, she had to convince him she was both. “I’m simply tired. It has been a difficult day, and I worry for Nathaniel.” His expression was impossible to read in the waning light. “You didn’t answer the question, just listed off a bunch of reasons why you wouldn’t be all right.”

“I suppose I did.” She tugged away, trying to free herself from his grip before she collapsed and clung to him like a desperate fool. “I’d be grateful if you could help me with my bag. I can admit that I may not be up to managing it just yet.”

Wilder let go of her with a short nod. “I’ll handle everything.” Of course he would. Bloodhounds always did.

She tried to help him, but even staying busy couldn’t disguise her misery. Finally, after watching her struggle for far too long, Wilder sat her down on a fallen log by the fire he’d built. “Wait here. I’ve got something for you.”

Her brash façade faltered under a wince as she drew up her knees. “I’ll be stronger tomorrow.”

“Hush.” A quick dig through one of his packs yielded the paper-wrapped bundle he sought. “I’ll get some water in the kettle and make you some of this tea. It’ll help.”

“Thank you.” She rested her chin on her arms and watched him, that wild curiosity filling her eyes again. “You’re not much like Levi at all.”

And she hadn’t expected that. Wilder held his tongue as he set up the spider and filled the kettle with water from his pack. “You mean because I’m not a hundred years old and mean as a rattlesnake?” The corner of her mouth kicked up. “He’d call what you’re doing right now babying me. Wouldn’t think much of it, either.”

“There’s a difference between babying someone and having a little compassion,” he argued. “Besides, if you get stove up, we won’t be able to ride on tomorrow morning.”

“You could send me back home. That’s what Levi would do.”

“Thought we’d established I’m not Levi.”

She tilted her head, sending loose strands of blonde hair tumbling over her sunburned cheek. “Why did you let me come with you?”

She was still looking at him like she half-expected him to abandon her on the trail. “Because Nate’s a hell of a lot more important to you than he is to me,” he answered honestly. “If I ever turn up missing, that’s who I want looking for me. Someone who gives a damn.”

“I see. And I do. Give a damn, I mean.” Her eyes drifted shut. “I don’t have many people left, just Nathaniel and Ophelia. Now that Levi is gone, the house and all of his things will belong to whichever hound replaces him. It might not be one who wants his weapons tended by a girl.” He couldn’t argue with that, though he wanted to. “Where will you go?” She didn’t answer. Not directly. “I’m bringing Nathaniel home. Wherever he goes, he’ll take me with him.”