What a Wolf Wants (Black Hills Wolves Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

homeless shelter—if they had a shelter, he didn’t know why they were homeless—to another until she ended up at a halfway house—halfway to where, she wasn’t clear. Then she’d gone home.
    Her parents had been furious; they’d been looking for her for months. They’d grounded her—a punishment he understood—for the entirety of the next year. She’d frightened them, but she’d learned not everyone without a home chose their condition. Some were trapped far away from home and didn’t know how to make the journey back. She’d written a couple of papers on the subject then decided she wanted to study sociology and anthropology.
    The subjects meant nothing, but her keen insights into why humans isolated themselves from family—pack—did. So many of the Black Hills Wolves had left—either through choice or because Magnum and his cronies had driven them out.
    Did they not know how to come home?
    A comfortable silence settled—she’d begun to drift off again. The slow, regular breathing betrayed her descent into sleep.
    “Ryker?”
    Canting his head, he glanced at her. He’d settled on the floor next to the chair, resting his back to it. His nearness seemed to have the same soothing effect as the fire or the work on her nerves—as long as she could see him and chattered at him, the smell of worry vanished. While he couldn’t quite place her scent into any one category—it reminded him of warm summer evenings, long lazy runs under a fat moon with a hint of spruce and the fire of the hearth—he liked it.
    He liked her.
    “I want to learn more about you. So tomorrow, it’s your turn to talk. Maybe show me how you live.” A smothered yawn elongated her words. She gave him a sleepy smile. His blood went cold at the thought of teaching her the truth of him.
    No, little human . The last things he could teach her were about him or the Black Hills.
    If he did, then he’d have to kill her—the pack came first. The sobering thought kept him awake and alert even as she finally drifted into a deep sleep. The idea of hurting her rubbed his fur the wrong way. Tension invaded his muscles as he listened to the storm.
    As long as it lingered, she was safe.
    He would make it so.
    Twice in the night, he roused to add wood to the fire and adjust the stew. Twice he returned to sit next to the chair, keeping himself between her and the door. The second time she shifted in the chair, her hand came down on his shoulder. Her fingers were light, but they curled into his shirt, her breathing deepening once more. He shifted to rest his chin against her hand. With her scent filling his lungs, he slept.
    The tug of her hand woke him. He opened his eyes to find her blinking at him sleepily. In the hearth, the fire crackled low. A part of his mind registered he needed to add more wood to it while another part focused on the drowsy, puzzled expression on her face.
    “Morning,” she managed in a soft voice. As a yawn stretched her mouth wide, he rubbed his chin against the hand he still held captive, enjoying the weight of her touch.
    “Morning.” He considered the delicate length of her arm, letting his eyes drift half-closed. If he roused enough to move, he’d have to acknowledge the lack of storm outside—the wind had quieted. He expected the snow would have done the same.
    “I’d kill for a shower.” She yawned again then gave his shoulder a squeeze before finally pulling her hand away. The urge to grab her hand and put it back hit him so strongly he rose from his position to add wood to the fire.
    “You don’t have to kill anything.” Ever. If it needs to die, I’ll do it . The internal agreement he sensed from his Wolf puzzled him nearly as much as his own response. He didn’t know this human , but neither he nor his Wolf cared. “I’ll start the generator, so it will heat the water. Then you can shower.”
    “You have a generator?” She started forward, yelping the minute her bare leg came out from beneath the