How many more lycans would have to be denied their mates before the older lycans banded together and stopped the rogues once and for all?
Dishonorable acts against potential mates may be punishable by death, but little was done to enforce the ancient law nowadays. And, as far as he was concerned, none of the bastards acting in such a disgraceful manner deserved to claim their own mates. He pitied any woman who ended up shackled to a rogue.
He wasn’t certain how to stop it. The younger lycans needed to be brought up to understand the importance of mates. It seemed the older lycans had turned their backs on the younger wolves. Brent knew there would always be instances when a lycan would have to be killed, but killing all who had gone rogue was not the answer, as those numbers were increasing. If things continued as they were without some type of values instilled in the young ones, there would be no new blood worthy of sustaining the lycan race.
Unfortunately, until something was done to help teach the young ones appropriate behavior, killing them remained the only answer. This saddened Brent, because many of the lycans who’d gone rogue were outcasts and had simply done the best they could to survive on their own.
Chapter Five
Rindy yawned and stretched. “Where are we?”
“About three hours from home.”
Home? She didn’t know what home was any longer. She’d jumped from place to place so often, she’d never had a chance to stay in one spot long enough to call it home. “I need to use the restroom; can we stop somewhere?”
“Yes. There is an exit with a stop in about two miles. Are you hungry?”
He looked at her.
For some reason, when he rested those chocolate eyes on her, she felt restless, hot. She’d never felt the feelings he seemed to inspire in her, and she didn’t much care for them. “A little.”
He nodded. “Me, too. We’ll grab a bite to eat as well.”
Before she knew it, he was pulling into the parking lot of what looked to be a truck stop, appropriately named Mack’s Grub ’n’ Gas.
When the truck came to a stop, she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and slid to the ground. Her legs were a little wobbly from the long ride.
The sleep had been a wonderful bonus. She hadn’t slept for so many hours straight in years. She’d been a light sleeper since the attack on her family, with every little noise jarring her abruptly awake.
She watched as Brent reached behind the seat and pulled out a long-sleeved, black shirt. He took off the shirt he was wearing, shrugged into the black one, and buttoned it. She tried hard not to admire the quick flash of broad, muscled chest that had been exposed during the change, but she failed miserably. He slid from the seat, shut the truck door, and walked around to the passenger side.
She started for the restaurant entrance, but Brent placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”
“Why?” She was a little annoyed that he looked unrumpled after the long ride. Even the half of his shirt that remained untucked—hanging just low enough to cover the holes in the thigh of his jeans from the earlier fight with the werewolf—in no way made him look disheveled. She, no doubt, had not fared so well. She rubbed at her eyes.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”
“Um, I don’t think they will let you in the women’s room. And, quite frankly, I don’t want you there either. I’m perfectly capable of going to the restroom without assistance.” Like she needed him to watch her while she picked all the sleep crust from her eyes.
“Not what I meant. I don’t want you going off anywhere by yourself. Let me at least walk you to the restroom.”
She was too hungry and mentally drained to argue with him. She shrugged. “Lead the way.”
She followed him. Whereas someone else would probably not notice anything amiss once inside the surprisingly clean restaurant, he nevertheless towed her behind him by the hand, scanning their surroundings as they went.
He’d sniff at the air every once in awhile as well. Must be nice to be able to smell danger; she could have used that trick a time or two. It would have given her even more of a jump on her stalkers.
They made it to the restroom door, and he opened it and boldly walked in, obviously not caring that it was intended only for women. Within moments he was back. He gave her a slight bow. “It’s all yours.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.”
He gave her a bored look that told her he was not amused in the least.
After using the toilet, she washed her hands and peered into the mirror. She felt like she barely knew herself any longer. So much of her old self had been lost in the chaos of trying to survive. The carefree girl she’d once been had turned hard and suspicious of the world. It made her sad. She wanted to laugh again, be safe again. She tossed the paper towel she’d used to dry her hands into the waste can. Useless dreams would get her nothing but heartache.
She took a deep breath and made her exit. Brent was waiting for her, hadn’t appeared to have moved a muscle since she’d gone into the restroom.
“Ready to eat?”
He nodded and led her to a table toward the back that faced the door.
He motioned for her to sit in the booth where her back would be to the door. He waited for her to sit and slid in the seat across from her. He was big. Of course, everyone seemed big to her, but he was exceptionally so.
She noted how he seemed to move with purpose, grace. The way he glanced at the entrance every few minutes seemed a casual, inconspicuous interest in his surroundings. She knew it was anything but. He was always on the alert for trouble. She recognized it easily as she’d lived most of her life doing the same.
“How’s your arm and leg?” When the wolf had used Brent’s arm and thigh in lieu of a favorite bone, she knew it had inflicted deep wounds. Had that happened to her, she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have been walking without assistance. And the pain from puncture wounds was excruciating.
She remembered that fact from when she was a girl, and the neighbor’s beloved poodle—Lucky—had decided to clamp down on her ankle one day when she had been walking home from school.
She barely kept a wince subdued just thinking about all of the pain those petite teeth of Lucky’s had caused. The infection she’d gotten from the bite hadn’t been fun either. The wolf’s fangs had been huge. But Brent hadn’t so much as favored his leg or arm.
“They are healing.”
“You were bitten pretty badly. Do you need stitches, maybe some antibiotics?”
His dark eyes rested on her. She had a sudden urge to squirm under his gaze, but she remained still, refusing to convey the effect he had on her.
She’d learned long ago to never show weakness.
He rolled his sleeve up to reveal the puncture wounds from the bite.
“See. I’ll live.”
She leaned closer. The wound was already closing up and looked days old rather than hours. She ran a finger over the puckered skin. “How is that possible?”
“We heal much faster than humans. In fact, if I shift to wolf form, the wounds will be completely healed when I shift back.”
That was something she hadn’t known. “Are you immortal? Like a vampire?”
He threw his head back and laughed as the waitress dressed in jeans and a T-shirt sat two glasses of water and two menus down on their table. The sound startled Rindy because she wasn’t expecting that type of reaction, but the low timbre was rich and comforting.
Apparently, the waitress was not unaffected by his laugh either. She appeared to be in her thirties and was quite attractive with big, green eyes and shiny black hair. She watched Brent and admired him openly. A small stab of jealousy shot through Rindy and startled her way more than his laugh had.