Feral (Wolf Ranch #3) - Renee Rose Page 0,38

me to call out to Rob, to follow him, chase him down and climb him like a tree, I couldn’t.

This was the wakeup call I needed. I was Willow Johnson, DEA agent. I was assigned to find evidence to arrest Jett Markle and a connection to Murrieta.

And I knew better than to get involved with people under false pretenses. It only led to hurt. I never should have started anything with Rob Wolf.

Trouble was, now that I had, I didn’t want it to end.

16

ROB

I woke in just as shitty a mood as I’d gone to bed. It had been two days since I discovered Natalie had gone over to Markle’s house with a bottle of wine, I’d had to shift and run off my aggression on the mountain. I’d never been possessive of a woman before, but the pendulum swung the other way now. I was obsessed with her to the point of insanity, with moon madness tearing at me. She was my mate. What the fuck was she doing with Markle? He’d put his cattle on Natalie’s land. Big deal. He’d even shot one of the pack. James had healed. But I wasn’t going to recover if my mate ended up choosing Jett Markle over me.

I’d pushed myself hard, my wolf trying to burn off some of the anger, running until my paws ached, then crashed in my bed long after midnight. Yesterday, I’d thrown myself into work, rearranging all the hay bales in the barn just to keep my body moving. I’d been at it until late, then had gone straight to bed. This morning, I still had enough rage in me to snarl at anything that got in my way.

After showering in the place that reminded me way too fucking much of her, I dressed and stomped down the stairs to the kitchen. The house smelled sweet—Marina must already be up baking.

Damn, it was strange to have a female in the house. And a human, no less.

Because of Marina, Colton was a changed man—relaxed and happier than I’d ever seen him. I found them both in the kitchen. Colton sat at the table drinking coffee and eating a delectable-looking Danish and Marina was pulling a cookie sheet of croissants out of the oven. They both looked up at me as I stalked in and poured myself a cup of coffee.

“Late night?” Colton asked carefully. It was hard for any pack member to ignore his alpha’s mood, and my frustration still simmered.

I just spat it out—no sense in trying to keep it in. “Natalie’s still seeing Markle. She went over there yesterday with a bottle of wine.”

“Oh,” Marina said, eyes wide. She grabbed a plate, piled three different pastries on it and shoved it my way, as if sugar and carbs could make me feel better. “How do you know?”

“I was at her place when she came back, wine bottle in hand.”

Marina tipped her head. She was a tiny thing, a disposition as sweet as her baked goods. Completely opposite from Natalie in every way.

“Empty wine bottle?”

I frowned. “No, unopened.”

“So she didn’t share a bottle of wine with him?”

I rubbed my unshaven face. Fuck, I really was going feral. “Well, no. She said she’d brought it over as a neighborly gesture, but he hadn’t invited her in.”

“So he didn’t invite her in or accept the wine?” Marina clarified. She picked up the spatula and moved the cooling croissants to a platter. “I don’t think that qualifies as seeing the guy. It sounds like, well, a neighborly gesture, like she said. If he didn’t take it, he wasn’t all that neighborly.”

“You’re saying what, exactly?”

“That he’s as much of a jerk as we thought.”

I looked to Colton. “If Marina took a bottle of wine to Markle as a neighborly gesture, would you lose your shit?”

He wiped his fingers with a napkin. “Markle’s a dick. I don’t want Marina anywhere near the guy.”

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Natalie owns the house next door to him. They’re going to be neighbors for a long time. She knows he put his cattle on her land without asking. She knows he’s a dick. Maybe she’s trying to smooth things over.”

“You don’t think she’s trying to get in his bed?” I asked. The question made me sound vulnerable and weak. Natalie was my weakness.

Colton held up a hand. “I don’t want to know the details of your sex life, but if you’re a selfish lover and don’t get her off, then I don’t blame her for seeking orgasms