Mated to the Savage Wolf (An Ironhaven Pack Romance Book 6) Read online

  Mated to the Savage Wolf

  An Ironhaven Pack Romance

  Piper Fox

  Contents

  Join Piper Fox’s Foxy Reads Newsletter

  Not a Normal Stroll

  Never Again

  Left to Live

  A Pack of One No More

  A Mate Saved

  The Alpha

  Also by Piper Fox

  About the Author

  Join Piper Fox’s Foxy Reads Newsletter

  Want more steamy paranormal romances for sassy, strong-willed women and the sexy, alpha men who love them? I’d love to tell you when I have a new release. Plus I always give my elite readers extra content, giveaways, sneak peeks, and the first look at new covers.

  Sign up and get a FREE book! Join now to get my weekly emails!

  Not a Normal Stroll

  “You don’t have to crowd me. I know the rules. I’m not going to stray.” Cynthia scowled at her shadow as he moved in closer. “I’m just picking berries for one of Mom’s spells.”

  The wolf growled at her, baring his teeth. “The Alpha told me to keep you close. Didn’t say anything about keeping you safe though. No one would find you out here. Maybe I should find out what those Ironhaven wolves have their tails all in a twist over.” He ran his hand over Cynthia’s ass slowly. “Of course, I’d like a woman with less meat on her bones. Is the Alpha feeding you too much?”

  Cynthia scowled, wishing for the millionth time that she had a fraction of her mother’s power. Anything to keep the pervy wolf off her tail. She couldn’t even remember this one’s name. It seemed like every week or two, Zain assigned new wolves to watch over her.

  “How about you just do your job, and I won’t tell Mom what stellar company you’re being?” Cynthia rolled her eyes and tried to focus on the forest floor. There were all sorts of treasures worth picking up, and Cynthia was an expert at finding them. She may not have had her mother’s abilities to cast, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pull together the ingredients for a potion or two. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been able to see her mother for years—the action at least felt like she was helping, being a part of something bigger than just her captive life in the basement.

  If only there were a spell strong enough to wipe the disease from the Bellemare pack’s way of thinking.

  The howl that cut through the woods barely made Cynthia flinch. Living among the pack, trapped with wolves who would just as likely eat her as they would give her a single kind word, the sounds of a pack didn’t scare her.

  She continued her walk, looking for anything that her mother could use for spells, or for anything that caught her eye.

  Cynthia craved these short outings in the woods. She almost felt normal, like she was just out for a stroll. If it weren’t for her constant shadow so close that he was almost touching her, she could’ve given in to the fantasy.

  Only… at that moment, he wasn’t crowding her.

  He was standing where she left him, his entire body tense, and it almost looked like his ears were twitching.

  “What is it?”

  He growled at her. “Shut up. I’m trying to listen.”

  Cynthia shook her head, tempted to stomp around as she looked for more plants, but she had more respect for the woods, for nature, than she did for the Bellemare wolf.

  “You need to get back to town. Now.” The beast growled again, his teeth and claws longer now, as if he were fighting against the shift.

  A chill ran down Cynthia’s spine as another howl echoed through the trees around them. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end, goosebumps spread over her arms and she gripped her basket closer. “That’s not one of yours?”

  He barked, “Run. Now.”

  “Fuck that. You think just because I’m human, because I don’t have Mom’s abilities, I’m weak. But I don’t run from wolves.” She set her basket down and widened her stance, ready for whatever was coming.

  The wolf snarled, “Get the fuck back to town. The Alpha will kill me if you get hurt.”

  Cynthia rolled her eyes, intent on arguing further, but a huge black wolf stalking into the clearing made her freeze.

  The beast was bigger than any other wolf she’d seen, pure muscle, and the snarl exposing all his teeth was almost something from a nightmare.

  Or, it would’ve been, if she didn’t have the intense feeling like she’d seen him before.

  Cynthia watched as he prowled into the clearing, the sheer power in his body obvious, even without the teeth and claws adding to the list of reasons she should be afraid.

  “You’re not welcome here, wolf.” The Bellemare guardian put himself between Cynthia and the beast, but he hadn’t shifted yet. Either he wasn’t afraid of this creature, or he was very stupid.

  Cynthia suspected the latter.

  The black wolf growled, a low, deep, rumbling noise that practically made the forest floor shake as he lowered his head, glaring at Cynthia’s guard. His shoulders dropped slightly, and once more, the wolf bared his teeth, clearly threatening the guard.

  Now Cynthia was certain she’d seen him before—the night the Ironhaven pack invaded Bellemare.

  The night they realized what Zain had made her mother do.

  Cynthia’s stomach sank to her toes as she watched her guard shift, dropping to all fours in one smooth motion, until a brown and tan wolf stood between her and the black beast.

  The much bigger interloper lunged first, throwing her guard back so quickly, Cynthia felt the brush of fur against her leg as she flung herself out of the way.

  Every swipe of the black wolf’s paws, every gnash of his teeth, was a move on the offensive, keeping her guard pinned beneath him as he turned the lighter tan fur red with wide gashes and bites.

  But the beast didn’t seem interested in Cynthia.

  She knew she should’ve run back to town, alert the pack somehow, get her guard help before it was too late.

  The battle, if Cynthia could even call it that, was over quickly, like the beast knew exactly where to hit her guard, exactly where to rip and tear so that he was incapacitated. And then, he went in for the kill.

  Cynthia had seen plenty of death in the Bellemare pack since they’d abducted her and her mother, but nothing quite as efficient, quite as intentional as the black wolf’s attack.

  When the beast under his paws stopped moving, stopped breathing, the wolf turned to Cynthia and raised his red-gold eyes up to meet hers.

  She could hardly catch her breath, couldn’t keep up with the furious pace her heart kept as he took one step toward her.

  Then another.

  Cynthia took a tentative step back, and the wolf moved right with her. Like it was herding her somewhere.

  Oh Goddess, was this wolf pushing her somewhere?

  Even though she knew she shouldn’t leave Bellemare territory, her feet seemed to have a mind of their own as she kept backing up, kept shuffling away from the wolf over the rough terrain.

  If she’d thought her guard’s crowding was bad, it was nothing compared to the bloody maw of the beast pushing her backwards with every step. Like he was pushing her to exactly where he wanted her.

  As she crossed the border between pack territories, pain ripped through her head, nearly blinding her as her whole skull seemed to pulse.

  And then, she collapsed.

  When Cynthia woke up, the migraine still pounded at her temples, still made her nauseated with the intensity of the pain, but she was somewhere dark. Somewhere soft.

  Somewhere that smelled unmistakably like wolf.

  “Hello?
” She croaked out the word, her voice shaky and weak, as if the pain filling her head had caused laryngitis.

  Only once before had she felt pain like this, when she’d broken curfew on a date. And if it was back, it could only mean one thing—her mother spelled her to keep her in Bellemare. She pressed her eyes shut, trying to figure out how she would make it back across the border, when she could hardly move.

  A cool, wet cloth pressed down over her eyelids as a huge hand cupped her chin.

  “Shh, just rest. You’re safe now.”

  “Please, you have to take me back to Bellemare.” She groaned as another wave of nausea washed over her. “I don’t know who you are, or what you want from me, but I have to go back. I’ll die if I don’t.”

  A beastly growl echoed around her, as if they were in a small space. Almost like a cave or a dungeon.

  Goddess, she jumped right from one horrifying captive situation to another.

  “Please. I’m under a spell. I can’t leave the Bellemare territory. The longer I’m away, the worse it’ll get.” She shifted her body, half-heartedly trying to sit up.

  Just to have that big hand press her back down again.

  “They’re monsters. You can’t stay with them.” His voice was so deep, so rumbly, it was almost a growl by itself.

  Cynthia sighed, trying to fight through the pain to try a different tactic. “Who are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. As soon as you’re well, I’ll take you to town where you’ll be safe.” He lifted his hand, and carefully brushed her hair back from her face. “The Alpha will make sure you’re taken care of.”

  She frowned, reaching blindly up to where his hand had been until she hit skin.

  His forearm was huge.

  “I’m Cynthia. Please, you have to believe me. I need to get back to Bellemare. Not Ironhaven, or any other town.”

  “Sorry, Cyn, I can’t let you go back there. Whatever you think they’ve done to you, the Ironhaven pack has a healer. He’ll release you from the spell.” Cynthia heard a choked back sound, almost like he was getting emotional. “At least, I hope he can.”

  Cynthia gingerly sat up, keeping a hand on his arm the entire time, as if to prove she wasn’t going to make a break for it. When he didn’t force her back down onto her back, she let the cloth drop and slowly opened her eyes. Even though she knew it would hurt, she had to see who kept her hostage.

  His size matched his wolf’s—he was enormous everywhere. And completely naked. His dark brown hair hung in long tangles around his face, and he had a scruffy beard covering half his face.

  He looked like a savage, like all the drawings of cavemen she’d seen in textbooks and in museums. Except for the tattoos covering his chest, his shoulders, and down to each elbow. Those definitely didn’t belong on any sort of stone age exhibit.

  “What’s your name?”

  He snarled, “Owen.”

  Owen. Now she was getting somewhere. Even if he was going to dig his claws in every step of the way.

  “You’re an Ironhaven wolf, aren’t you?”

  “I was.” He looked away from her, but she could see his nostrils flaring in and out, like he was taking deep breaths. Or scenting her.

  “Was? I don’t understand.” She moved her hand higher up his arm, to his tattooed bicep. He was warm, almost hot to the touch, but it didn’t feel feverish—more like he just ran hot. “I thought pack bonds were forever.”

  Owen jumped away from her touch, away from her question. “You don’t need to know my story, or anything about me. You just need to feel better, so you can go to town.”

  Cynthia shook her head. “I’m not going to Ironhaven. You can keep me here, and watch me die, or you can take me back to Bellemare.”

  He wheeled around, snarling at her as his eyes flashed red-gold again.

  She’d struck a nerve.

  “You’re not going to die.”

  “Then take me back to the Bellemare border.”

  “No.” He stormed to the front of the cave, a narrow opening she’d missed until he stood in front of it, blocking out the minimal light. “Stay.”

  She couldn’t tell if it was an order, or a plea, but as Owen disappeared, she collapsed back on the makeshift bed again, tears streaming from her eyes as the pain swelled again.

  Never Again

  Owen didn’t stray far from the cave, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back in again.

  The woman, Cyn, was more tempting than ice cream on a summer day, a scent that had teased him and taunted him for months. Only ever once a week, sometimes not even that often, but every time he smelled her in the woods, he couldn’t help but venture closer, dare a chance at glimpsing her through the trees.

  She was stunning, all soft curves and warm umber skin that was even more tempting up close. And the crown of tight corkscrew curls framing her cheeks gave her an ethereal look, like a nymph of the forest.

  But Owen couldn’t believe she’d been brainwashed so badly by the Bellemare wolves. It was cruel enough that they used actual curses on the women of Ironhaven, on his precious Fiona, but to trick this angelic creature into thinking she would die if she did not return was just too far.

  He’d show her. He’d wait until dark, prove to her that she wasn’t in any real danger, and then she’d have to let him save her.

  At least with Cyn, he knew he could. Ethan would talk to her. Maybe even the new mates, the humans, could help. She’d like Lexi, he was sure of it. And then his brother would know that he was okay.

  Every night, he saw Garrett out on his porch, drinking beer, talking into the forest as if Owen were there. As if nothing had changed.

  A few times, Owen almost made the short walk to those steps, almost let himself shift back into a man for his brother, for his family.

  But there were too many ghosts in Ironhaven. Too many women he’d grown up with, who would never run in the forest with him again.

  The piercing shriek that came from his cave startled Owen out of his thoughts, and he bounded through the narrow opening again, shifting back quickly into his human form to run to Cyn’s side.

  “What is it?” He sniffed her, but he couldn’t scent out any source of pain, any sickness, or wounds. Not even the smell of the curse lingered on her.

  But if there was no reason for her pain, maybe she was telling the truth.

  “Have. To. Get. To. Belle…” She gripped her head, pressing her palms against either temple.

  He scooped her into his lap, holding her against his chest, surrounding her. “I’ll take you to Ironhaven. You’ll be okay there.” He stroked her curls, rubbed her back, trying to will the witch’s influence back, away from her.

  No one deserved to die from a witch’s spell. He wouldn’t even wish it on Zain, and he yearned to see that wolf bleed.

  Cyn sobbed against his bare chest, pawing at him, but she didn’t try to push him away, didn’t try to break his hold.

  Eventually, she quieted again, and he carefully pulled back to look down at her. “Are you okay, little Cyn?”

  She blinked up at him through watery eyes. “You can’t keep me here, Owen. Please.” Even as she said it, she curled back into his chest, as if she didn’t really want to leave either.

  At least, that was what he hoped she was saying.

  “Bellemare wolves are evil. Vicious creatures. You have no idea what that one could’ve done to you.” He stroked her hair again, hoping the motion helped with her pain.

  “Not all of them. Sure, there are some that would rip your head off just for looking at them wrong, but not all of them are like that. Not all of the pack supported what the Alpha did to Ironhaven.”

  Owen growled before he could catch the sound and keep it from her. She didn’t need to know all his pain. She didn’t need to be burdened with just what the Bellemare wolves cost him.

  “There has to be another way to stop this pain.”

  “You don’t know my mom. She doesn’t want me to hurt, but I know her sp
ell work. If I’m in this pain, it’s because Zain made sure I would be. Please, you have to let me go back.”

  “It’s too dark tonight. You’ll never make it on your own.” It was a pitiful lie—Owen would never make her go back alone. But if it kept her safe by his side, at least for the night, it was a lie he’d readily tell.

  “It’s only going to get worse. I won’t make it much more than morning.” She looked up at him, her big, brown doe eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t want to go back, Owen, but I have to.”

  He snarled, but he nodded. “First light, I’ll get you back across the border. Wolf’s honor.”

  Cyn let her eyes close again as she let out a slow breath. “Stay with me? I don’t know why, but the pain is better when you’re here.”

  “I won’t leave your side.” He carefully shifted them, so that she was laying against his side, pressed so close, he could feel each and every one of her sumptuous curves. “Tell me something?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you get mixed up with that pack? You don’t seem the type to go looking for dangerous wolves out in the woods.”

  “Why? Because I’m not wearing a red cloak? I was carrying a basket.” She smiled softly, but her eyes were still closed.

  Owen desperately wanted her to look at him again.

  Cyn was quiet for a long time, but Owen didn’t say anything, didn’t want to interrupt her if she’d fallen asleep.

  He knew all too well how being ill could wear a woman out, and if she needed the sleep, he certainly wasn’t going to wake her.

  When she did speak, she did it slowly, softly. “It was a trap. Mom has had her gifts her entire life, and it hasn’t always been good for her. Her magic is strong, which we now know is why Zain sought her out.” Cyn shifted a little closer, and Owen’s arms tightened around her. “He made her believe that Bellemare was a mecca, a haven for all sorts of supernatural creatures living in harmony together. He even told her there were other witches she could form a coven with. But it was all a lie. As soon as we moved in, he had his wolves kidnap me.”