Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 100: Chapter 100

Fuck. Shit. It is her.
Gwendolyn Hoffer was his fated mate.
Well, she could be someday. It was her choice, of course, but it was too soon to broach that subject. Still, the words felt right. This was too new and Weylin wasn’t quite there yet. But he would be. Hell, he could see it approaching fast.
Gwendolyn Hoffer was important to him. Really important. His entire future was in her hands. Swallowing down his fear and nervousness, he nodded towards the pile of papers on Derrick’s desk and grabbed them. Weylin stood, scrounged for a pen. He handed the whole bundle to her, shivering when their fingers touched, and little shocks of lightning zipped through him.
“Um, well, here are some forms you’ll need to fill out. But you can do that at home and bring them in when you start.”
“When’s that?” she asked and seemed anxious.
Hmm. Why did she want to start so soon? He was curious. Weylin couldn’t help it, but Weylin wouldn’t hound her for answers. He’d overheard her mention financial obligations to her grandfather or something like that, but he’d stopped listening as soon as she started talking about her ex-boyfriend.
His Wolf hadn’t liked that bit at all. Double standard? Maybe. But he wasn’t a saint, he was a Dire Wolf and a possessive one at that. Still, it wouldn’t be right to steal her story by eavesdropping, so he’d gone in search of Derrick.
Of course, Weylin hoped, in time, she would confide in him. Maybe even lean on him for support. Yeah, he would like that. For her to trust him, to think of him as more than some shmuck who’d accosted her in a bar.
Shiiitt.
“Um, how about you start tomorrow, Gwendolyn?” he asked, liking the way her name rolled off his lips.
She looked around the hallway as he led her back to the bar. All traces of the bachelorette party were gone, but Sundays were still good bar days. Gwen’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as Patricia Golden arrived and jumped on the stage, where bands usually set up, leading a horrific rendition of the macarena.
“Wow. I mean, it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon,” Gwen murmured.
“Yeah, well, some folks start early, but uh, Patricia there is like family,” he tried, then gave up when the first scarf came off the older woman’s neck.
“Oh, I see, well, I am not judging. It’s nice to see a woman having fun,” Gwen replied, surprising him.
“Yeah, uh, oh damn, excuse me one moment, I have to stop her before she takes any more clothes off,” he murmured.
“Ha!”
Gwen covered her gaping mouth with her hand. Weylin wished he could watch her some more, but he had to fix this first. He shrugged apologetically and ran past her to the stage where he hoisted the older female Lioness off the thing before she could do more than shimmy out of one bra strap beneath her blouse, thank fuck. Really, it was way too early for the Lioness’ shenanigans, but maybe she was still in party mode from the night before.
“Give her here!” shouted a loud male, and Weylin willingly handed the woman over to her mate.
“Yes sir,” Weylin replied automatically.
King Donovan looked pissed as hell, but he nodded his thanks. Then, he tossed his errant bride over his shoulder, smacked her on the rump, and chuckled loudly as he hightailed it out of the bar, whispering something about a stripper poll and her repeating that little dance in private.
Whatever. It was just way more info than Weylin ever wanted to hear, especially about those two. Shit. Now, where did his mate go? He jumped when she appeared before him, offering a bottle of cold water in her extended hand. Weylin took it, thanking her automatically.
“Wow. I guess stuff like that really does happen all the time in this place,” Gwen murmured, worrying the chain around her neck as she sipped from her own bottle.
Weylin glanced down and saw it was a gold chain with a tiny diamond cross she held between her fingers. Pretty. He wondered where she got it. Damn, he was on fire with wanting to know more about her.
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry. Um, I like your necklace. That a cross?”
“Um, yeah. I got it for my Confirmation.”
“So, you’re religious.”
“Well, my Pop is a deacon for St. Anne’s on Main Street, well, he was before he got sick. Anyway, he raised me with his beliefs, I guess.”
“That’s interesting, Gwendolyn. I’m sorry about him being sick though,” he said, truly concerned.
“He’s getting on in years, and I sorta expected it. But I was raised to be a good girl, you know, boring,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“I don’t think you’re boring, Gwen.”
“You don’t know me,” she replied, shaking her head.
“That’s true. But I want to,” he returned.
Gwendolyn bit her lip, then gave him a small, tight smile, before feigning interest in the papers he’d given her. That was alright. She needed time. He sensed her withdrawal and nodded his understanding. Last thing he wanted was to make her feel trapped or bamboozled by him.
“So, I should fill these out, then bring them back tomorrow, you said?”
“Yep. Come in around three and we’ll start your training,” he said, walking her to the door.
He noticed her checking her phone and pulling up a ride share app, and the beast in him went nuts.
Shiiitt.
“Um, I will walk you to your car. Where’d you park?”
“Oh, um, I don’t drive. I was just gonna grab a U-drive,” she said, naming the most popular ride share app in town.
“Um, actually, Sheila here was about to leave. I am sure she can give you a ride, right Sheila?” he called out, knowing full well his Pack mate had been eavesdropping no less than ten feet behind him.
The only other redheaded Wolf in their Pack came jogging over, a big smile on her face. Beside her was Leo, her mate and soon to be husband.
“Gwendolyn, this is Sheila and Leo, her fiancé. He’s a cop,” he told her, and she visibly relaxed in the big man’s presence.
“Very nice to meet you, Gwendolyn,” Leo said, all teeth and smiles, and Weylin had the sudden urge to punch him right in those too-pearly whites.
“Oh, I don’t want to put the two of you out,” Gwen said in a rush.
Too late. Sheila had already commandeered her arm and was gabbing a mile a minute about errands she had to run and how tuckered out she was and other girl shit, like where Gwen got her hair done.
Good Pack, that Sheila. She must have read his concern through their Pack bonds and would make sure the fragile human got home safe. Gwen looked as if she would argue, feisty little thing, then she got caught up in whatever Sheila was talking about.
It amazed Weylin how quickly females could become friends, but it also warmed him to know Gwen was getting home safe tonight. The knowledge settled his beast. She paused in her tracks and her brown eyes found him instantly.
“Oh, thanks Weylin. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she called out and gave him a shy little wave.
“Have a good one, Gwendolyn.” Weylin replied, his gaze never leaving her back for one second.
When the door finally closed, Weylin took off like a rocket, ripping the shirt from his body as he hauled ass outside a moment before his Wolf came ripping out of him.
The dark-red-furred beast was a hulking mass of muscle and angst. He followed the sound of the engine of Leo’s custom ’65 Stingray.
The Corvette was a work of fucking art, and being a Shifter, the Lion had it customized. A bench seat had been added in the back for when unexpected guests happened upon him, along with a titanium reinforced frame, extra absorbent shocks, and a suped up engine to name a few.
A part of Weylin was grateful the fragile human female was tucked up in the back of the big man’s car with Sheila there to protect her from, well, whatever. Another part of him was barely hanging on to reason. That part was all animal. The beast didn’t want Gwen in Leo’s car, regardless of the fact the male was already mated.
Weylin was a Wolf. He wasn’t perfect. While he accepted his imperfections as run-of-the-mill type stuff, he sure as shit didn’t know he had feelings like this lurking inside him. Turned out he could be quite the possessive asshole.
Mine. Mine. MINE.
The Wolf growled and scratched. He wanted out. And he wanted out now.
She’s in good hands, Wolf. Fucking relax.
But knowing all that didn’t stop his animal from demanding he follow them. Weylin grunted and swayed on his feet the further she got from him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, and why bother? He could use a run, anyway,
His transformation was fast, real fast, and his big, dark beast followed the vehicle closely as he could from the shadows of the forest beside the road. His fur was much darker than the flame colored hair that topped his head when he wore his human skin, but the hint of red was still there.
He had to be extra careful when hunting at night so humans didn’t see him. Damn red fur tended to reflect in the light. Lucky for him, they tended to write him off as a large fox or stray dog. Humans didn’t understand the paranormal world, and they usually ignored the things they could not comprehend.
He only hoped he didn’t frighten Gwendolyn if she happened to catch a glimpse of him. Monster that he was, he’d likely scare the crap out of her. His Wolf didn’t like that idea. Not one bit. But Weylin knew better than to go into this thing blind.
She was a normal. A human. And from what she’d told him, she’d been raised to be religious, moral, ethical. Shit. What the fuck did a rounder like him have to offer a woman like her?
Sweet, innocent, good girl. She deserves better.
But even those dark, disturbing thoughts did not stop his paws from moving. Oh no. He tracked her using all his skill, watched from the shadows as she got out of the car before Leo could help her—good.
His Werewolf senses were heightened, and he listened as she refused to go indoors until she saw them pull away. Leo had balked, but Gwen was adamant but polite. She insisted Leo and Sheila leave first and even watched them drive away.
Strange, he mused. Watching and waiting to see which house on the small residential block was hers. Only, where he would have expected her to choose a walkway, she didn’t.
Gwendolyn wrapped her arms around her waist and hurried fast as her two tiny feet would take her curvy little body down the street. Weylin growled softly. Something was wrong.
He followed her for three more blocks, almost lost his shit as she turned down a road to the seedier side of Blue Valley. Right off the highway, there was a gas station, a twenty-four-hour roach coach, and a cheap motel.
His heart thudded as he watched her walk through the parking lot of the cheap motel, ignoring the catcalls from a group of guys leaning against a beat up Toyota and drinking beers from bottles wrapped in paper bags. Hell, it wasn’t even dark yet.
Oh, fuck no.
Weylin snarled. The sound had been loud enough to bring a couple of heads swiveling in his direction. The distraction had allowed Gwendolyn to haul her cute little butt straight for the last room on the left side of the lot.
Shit.
If sweet little Gwen was staying here, her situation was far more dire than she’d let on. Weylin bristled beneath his fur. He wanted to bust open the door, pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, take her to his den. But he had no right to her, and he knew it.
Didn’t mean he liked it, but he was not about to violate her space. Instead, he walked to the small patch of cement outside the beat up maroon painted door. Cheap black stickers with the numbers 394 were stuck on top of the paint.
He sniffed, revulsion filling him as he recognized urine from both humans and animals, chemicals, rotting food, and other revolting odors surrounding the place. The least of which was not death.
Fuck.
Gwen didn’t belong there, but Weylin could not do a thing about it. Not yet, anyway. He paced back and forth, listening to the sounds of her going about what he assumed was her nightly routine.
The sun had just set, and the creeps in the lot were still lurking. It was the usual suspects, winos, and users, maybe one dealer. All human as far as he could tell, and the fact she was there was like a beacon to the evil inclined.
Weylin hated thinking of her in such a place. The lights were off, and the din of the television was low enough to suggest she slept with it on. In a place like this, he didn’t blame her.
Admiration filled him as he imagined her struggle. She was smart, educated, beautiful, and she did not have the air of someone who’d grown up in a situation like this. So, this was new, he surmised.
His respect for her grew. Here he thought the woman had grit just walking into the bar to get a job. But it was more than that. Looked to him like she had given up a lot to pay for her grandfather’s care. Her staying in the cheap motel, taking rideshares, and wearing simple clothing were all because she was likely putting everything she had into caring for the old man.
He didn’t think people did things like that anymore. Gwendolyn Hoffer was just full of secrets and surprises, and Weylin wanted to learn them all. In due time, he told himself. For now, he would simply watch over her. Make sure she was safe.
Brave, tough girl. You can sleep tight, now. I got you.