Wolver's Reward Read Online Free PDF Page A

Was he outcast? Fuck no. He
couldn't be. He'd done nothing wrong. There'd been no trial, no
sentence handed down by the Alpha. They'd simply thrown him out. He
wasn't wanted. Big surprise. He hadn't been wanted from the day he
was born.
    River's hand shot to the radio and he poked
at the buttons until he found what he was looking for. Heavy metal
screamed through the cab, drowning out his thoughts.
    He'd left the Interstate a few hours before,
and chose instead to travel a secondary road that ran beside it. He
had nowhere to go, no timetable to keep, and no destination in
mind. The pace was slower, but what the hell. Speed in enclosed
vehicles had never done much for him. The truck was simply
transportation that kept him dry. It was good for hauling shit.
That was about it.
    Driving the truck wasn't
like driving the bike. The Roadliner S was a cruiser with a comfy
seat and plenty of power in its pushrod V-twin engine. There were faster
motorcycles out there with sleeker builds, but River liked the way
this one handled even on the sharper corners. Unlike some of the
other big bikes he'd ridden, the Roadliner could lean pretty deeply
into a turn before scraping the floorboards. And that was another
thing. His size fourteens fit the floorboards with plenty of room
to spare.
    It
was a n impressive
looking ride. It turned heads when he rumbled past, but that wasn't
why he bought it. He bought it for the way it made him feel. It was
the closest he'd found to running as a wolf. His wolf thought so
too, and when he rode, River felt the animal purr right along with
the engine. That bike was a symbol of everything he wanted to be;
fast, powerful, and respected. It was his prized
possession.
    The rain was
coming harder, the wipers slap-slapping at full speed and not quite
doing the job, when he saw the red emergency flashers up ahead. A
small dark cargo van was stopped half on, half off the two lane
road. River slowed more out of courtesy than curiosity. On the rear
bumper sat a girl, shoulders hunched over her knees, head in hands.
He wondered if she was crying. She was wearing shorts and had the
hood of her sweatshirt pulled up over her head, but in that rain,
it wasn't doing anything to keep her dry. Long strands of wet,
straggly hair falling to either side obscured her face, but he
could tell she was young by the long and slender legs and the neon
orange sneakers she wore.
    " Tough luck,
kid," he muttered.
    As he drove by,
the girl raised a delicate looking hand in a hopeless wave that
whispered of defeat, but River didn't stop. It wasn't his problem.
Hell, he had enough problems of his own.
    He
made it another two miles before he pulled over , came to a stop, and after checking
his mirrors, made the U-turn back the way he had come.
    It
was that damned hand and its hopeless wave that did it. In his
mind, he saw it as Forest's hand. His foster sister had those
sa me long fingers
and narrow palm formed with bones so fine and fragile looking,
River thought he could crush them just by shaking hands. What if it
was Forest back there? What if she needed help and some bastard
passed her by because he was too busy feeling sorry for himself?
And what about the bastard who would stop, not looking to help, but
looking for something else? What if that was Forest stranded on a
cold and rainy deserted road?
    Oddly, the thought made him smile. Forest wouldn't be driving
in the rain. Her hands shook when Kat suggested she do it on warm
sunny days. Poor Fo rest was afraid to drive, just as she was afraid to do
anything else that was new. Mrs. Martin, the Alpha's housekeeper,
insisted Forest drive down and pick up the cubs from school each
day. She said the girl needed the practice. She wasn't wrong. The
cubs complained that they could run the mile faster than Forest
drove it.
    Still, Forest had come a long way from the girl she'd
been. Her smile
was shy, but it was a genuine smile, and she no longer jumped like
a scared cat every time a man walked