Untamed Wolf by Heather Long Read Free Book Online Page A

received an allowance until they could get businesses started and jobs sorted out. During her first grocery-shopping trip, she’d cleaned out the store of all the different potpies. She loved them. Grabbing two of the chicken boxes, she got one set up in the microwave and left it to cook while she grabbed a shower.
    Still limping by the time she reached the bathroom, she banged one foot against the floor while the water heated. Then the other. Her life was pretty good. She’d worked in all kinds of jobs over the years—from convenience stores to big box stores to restaurants. Some were fun, some sucked and all of them paid the bills. In the months since she’d joined the pack, the only crappy jobs she’d had to do were the ones she volunteered for—like painting the interiors on new buildings, cleaning out trash from those about to be renovated, and learning about fixing plumbing.
    The showerhead spilled like rainfall, evidence of her plumbing training. She’d installed it herself. Hunger hurried her through the shower. Since she hadn’t ranged out of town since Dylan delivered her to the pack, she wasn’t that dirty. Washing and rinsing her hair took a couple of minutes, and she was already toweling off. After gathering her discarded clothes, she wandered into her bedroom and dropped all but the shirt into the dirty clothes.
    The oversized black t-shirt hung nearly to her knees. The softness was why she chose it, not the owner. Or the fact she hadn’t taken it off since returning home. Maybe she liked the idea of wearing his shirt or maybe she just liked the shirt. Her wrist was bare, she’d lost her bracelet somewhere during her hike. Rubbing her skin, she sighed. Chances were she’d never see it again, but maybe it was time to break with the past.
    Adding fresh panties, sweatpants and socks to her ensemble, she sighed at the warmth. Hot shower, no more pins and needles and a second beep from the microwave warning her it was time to eat.
    She cooked the second potpie while she devoured the first. It sated her initial hunger, and she carried the second with her to her seat and stared at the sketches she’d managed. Two of the waterfall, three of a fallen tree over a frozen creek, and one of Dylan…
    Well, only one which she liked of him. Something about his jaw didn’t work for her. She’d used magnification on the photos she’d snapped, but the angle was wrong. Nibbling her way through the second potpie, she flipped to her earlier attempts to sketch him.
    She’d given him horns in the first one. Laughter bubbled through her. The eyes and cheeks were wrong, but the horns were funny. A knock at the door pulled her attention from the sketches and she swallowed her mirth. Going still, she stared at the door. No scent betrayed her visitor. Her wolf crouched—neither she nor her animal wanted to reveal their presence.
    A second knock sounded, followed by, “Chrystal, it’s Rayne. It’s okay to open the door.”
    Relief punctured the tension threading her muscles. She set her dinner aside and hurried over to release the deadbolt. The Alpha’s mate held a brown paper sack in his hand as though in offering. “Sorry,” she apologized immediately, barely meeting his eyes for a split second before dropping them. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
    “It’s all right. It’s late, and I’m an unexpected guest— and I’m not going to ask if I can come in or be pushy. I did want to drop these off.” He dangled the bag, the crumpling noise an invitation to take it. A sweet scent tickled her nostrils.
    “Biscotti?” Despite having devoured two potpies in a row, the promise of sugar and delight left her stomach aching.
    “Fresh batch.” He passed the bag over to her. It was heavier than it looked.
    Daring to peek inside, she found over a dozen biscotti waiting for her. Oh, if she was conservative, she’d have sweets for a couple of weeks. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” Rayne leaned against