Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,66

shown up for work Monday or Tuesday. As his Luminary, she was protected under pack law, but if she wouldn’t answer the damn phone, how was he supposed to know where to send the security team? He’d sent them to her apartment after the fight at Cosmo’s, but they’d reported back that she wasn’t home.

His brother wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack Emelia now. Not after he and Emelia had bonded. Silas might’ve been desperate enough to attack Emelia before, when she was alone and didn’t have the protection of their pack, but now…he wouldn’t do the one thing that would make him pack enemy numero uno.

The deal was done. Drake had become Alpha.

There was nothing Silas could do other than retreat and accept his fate.

Emelia was fine. In all likelihood she was irritated and pissed off, but safe.

The moon would be full tonight. Emelia would shift into a werewolf for the first time and would have to be taught how to handle her anger, how to channel it into the hunt, and how to shift back without experiencing any pain.

He’d sent Emelia an e-mail telling her about his cabin in neighboring Wenatchee Forest. His pack was ready to take her in with open arms. In fact, there was a caravan meeting at the ferry terminal this afternoon headed for the wilderness. They’d travel together, shift together, then return together when the full moon waned. They’d take good care of her…not like he could, but still.

Drake mulled over the thought of crashing the trip, but what good would that do? Emelia had made her decision clear.

They didn’t fit. Her words still pierced him, days later.

The hollow ache in Drake’s middle wouldn’t ease, no matter how many Johnnie Walkers he downed. Two hard knocks on his office door startled him, but he didn’t move from his chair.

“Come in,” he said.

Trixie strode through the door and set a glossy coffee mug on Drake’s desk. “Ms. Hudson didn’t show up for work today either, Mr. Wilder. Would you like me to pull another temp into her position?”

Drake sipped his coffee. It tasted strange. Too bold. “I think that’d be best. No temp this time, though. Pull someone from another department.”

“Will do.” Trixie nodded, then nervously twirled a strand of russet-brown hair around her finger. “Sir, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Shoot,” Drake said, not really hearing her.

“We’re missing some acquisitions reports from May of this year. I’ve searched for weeks and can’t come up with anything. I had them on my desk when I began to train Ms. Hudson, but when I went looking for them a few days later, they were missing.”

The reports weren’t the only thing missing.

“Sir, they seem to have disappeared,” she continued. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“Strange,” he agreed, then took another drink of the coffee that still didn’t taste right. “Trixie, would you throw this out and bring me my usual?”

He pushed the cup across his desk and continued to stare out the window, completely lost in thoughts of Emelia and the Knight Owl.

“That is your usual, sir,” Trixie said. “There are only two pots of coffee that brew each day: regular and decaf. I didn’t grab the wrong one. Maybe you’ve gotten used to how Emelia’s been making it for you.”

By the time Drake registered Trixie’s words, she’d already made her way back into the hall. The door clicked shut quietly, leaving Drake alone with his thoughts.

Trixie was right.

Drake had gotten used to the way Emelia made his coffee, but it went deeper than that. He’d gotten used to the way she molded against him when he held her, the way she smiled playfully, lifting the weight off his shoulders. He’d gotten used to the way she brought laughter into his life. She didn’t live on the straight and narrow, and she didn’t make sense all the time. But he’d been out of balance before he met her. He’d been living a dull, boring life—one that was not really worth living to begin with.

Damn it.

He’d been an ass to buy her a new place. He’d been bullheaded, trying to force her into a certain conventional mold. It wasn’t that Emelia didn’t fit him, Drake realized. She simply didn’t fit the mold he’d tried to place her in.

He loved her just the way she was.

Something heavy shifted in Drake’s chest, feeling like a thunderous boom from a firework in an empty night sky. Emelia was his match in every way, and he hated that