Page 22 of Cowboy Wolf Christmas

Fucking hell.

Cheyenne.

His mind raced. She’d be alone. Devastated at being left behind. Maybe even having another anxiety attack or. . . whatever that was yesterday. He wanted to go to her, hold her again. She’d told him one night only. Made where they stood abundantly clear.

He had to respect that, listen, didn’t he? Even though leaving everything they’d shared behind in his family’s old cabin this morning had nearly done him in.

Goddamnit.His family.Silas’ hands clenched into fists.

If losing Cheyenne so soon after he’d found her hadn’t thoroughly destroyed him, being in that cabin again would have. She’d been the perfect distraction, something he could focus on, and yet. . . She was so much more than that.

Fuck, he loved her, didn’t it? He didn’t even know when or where it started, it’d happened so fast, but he did. She’d just suddenly become a part of him. Like his wolf or a limb or piece of him he hadn’t known he’d been missing. He couldn’t separate it out from the rest of himself. She lit him up like the morning sunrise, filling in all the cracks and darkness.

Damn it, he couldn’t let her go.

She didn’t belong in MAC-V-Alpha or the military or whatever the hell she thought she was running off to like that would solve all her troubles. She belonged with him. He just had to make her see it. At least tell her he loved her before he let her say goodbye.

And fuck. Tomorrow would be Christmas. The fifteen-year anniversary of when those bloodsuckers had stolen everything from him, and Maverick had left him this, this place, abandoned.

As open and unprotected as he and his family had been fifteen years earlier.

His sisters and brothers. His father. His mother.

All gone, and yet, the holiday security plans weren’t any better after fifteen fucking years. In the subpacksorhere. Silas roared his rage into the silence.

Didn’t anyone have any sense around here?

By the time his frustration finished ravaging through him and the office, his hands were planted firmly on the security desk. He leaned onto its surface as he used his biceps to support his weight. He was panting, nearly feral with rage.

But needed to calm himself. Handle this. Fix this. Make it right.

He could do that, couldn’t he?

“Damn, I thought only the cougar pride could roar like that, but you Wild Eight were always pussies too, I guess.” The grating voice and amused snicker that came from behind him caused him to stiffen.

Slowly, Silas turned his head toward the wolf who’d spoken only to find the Asshole whose nose he’d broken staring back at him. Just great.

“You,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, me.” Asshole shrugged, where he leaned against the doorway.

What had Cheyenne said his name was again? Cayden?

No wonder he was a douchebag. God, what an obnoxious name.

Silas snarled, not bothering to move. “Unless you’d like your nose broken again, or worse,” his lip curled, “I suggest you get the fuck out.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, this asshole would have been some untrained little-alpha wolf shit, a newbie barely past his den days. He should’ve recognized that from the start. No fully fledged Grey Wolf warrior in their right mind would bother Cheyenne. Challenge him. The whole of the pack loved her. Almost as much as they feared him.

Silas turned back toward the security screens, tracking each monitor with careful precision. The pack’s security specialist, Blaze, had the ranch perimeter well covered, but with this few warriors to man the posts, they’d be vulnerable for the next several days.

And his and Cheyenne’s near-run in with the vamps in Missoula still didn’t sit right.

“Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me,” Cayden said from the doorway.

Silas snarled. “The fuck I am.”

“He could feel the other wolf hesitate. Sense him there. “Maverick got word of what I said about Cheyenne.”

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