The Wolf’s Bullied Pregnant Mate (Wolf Island Special Ops #2)

Chapter 1 - Adalyn

A wolf was haunting my dreams.

A wolf had been haunting my dreams for weeks now, my nightly visitor, coming to taunt me whenever I felt like I had a grip on everything.

The wolf stood in the shallow pool of water beneath a thundering waterfall—a place familiar to me, a place I welcomed into my dreams—and I took a tentative step towards it. Chilled, icy water washed over my bare feet, and I winced. My hiss made the wolf’s ears twitch.

Its eyes gazed back at me—somehow familiar, but I couldn’t place them. In the darkness of the waterfall, they glimmered like rich emeralds, a green fire blazing within their depths. I couldn’t tear my eyes from it. They pulled me closer, and my steps became more sure. I didn’t pull away or resist that tug towards a beast that was supposed to be my enemy.

Those green eyes simply watched me, surrounded by fur that was almost black. The wolf was sleek, and I raised my hand to brush my fingers through its fur. I stopped. Held myself back.

I was aware of my body in the ice-cold pool and asleep on my bed, twitching, one hand raised in my sleep as if I was truly trying to reach for the wolf.

I blinked.

The wolf disappeared.

A man was beneath the waterfall, no longer in the pool itself, but stood on an outcrop of rock beneath the crashing water. Those same green eyes gazed out at me. A slick of black hair was pushed off his forehead, exposing tattoos that ran down the sides of his shaved head. I had yet to figure out what they were.

He raised a hand to me. A snake tattoo wrapped around his right bicep, its tongue hissing out towards his elbow. The other was fully blacked out with ink, intricate swirls breaking up the edges towards his forearm.

Who was I to say no to that outstretched hand? I was powerless—willingly so. Within seconds, I clambered onto the rock, one hand slipped into his. The roar of the water around us shielded us from anything else, and he pulled me tighter towards him. My other hand pressed to his bare chest, feeling the droplets slide down over powerful muscles beneath his skin.

The man smiled down at me, towering over me easily. His smile was wreathed in darkness, pure danger, and power. His hand folded over mine, engulfing the length of my fingers easily.

“I was always meant to come here.” His voice was deep, curling like velvet around my ears as he dipped his mouth towards me. “We were always meant to reunite our bloodlines, Adalyn.”

Before his mouth pressed to mine, I woke with a gasp. Not to a waterfall but in my bedroom. No wolf, no man. Just my own harsh breaths punching out of me as I sat up with a start. Dawn hadn’t yet broken outside my window, but the room flickered with a golden glow. Every candle was lit, and my hair stood on end as I tried to wrangle it back into a hair tie.

I snapped my fingers, and every candle extinguished. I sighed, slid from my bed, and checked my phone. 05:58. Great. Two minutes until my alarm went off. Fatigue weighed heavily on my bones, trying to coax me back beneath my sheets, but I pushed on, padding over to my kitchenette to brew a strong coffee.

As the machine whirred to life, filling the silence of my studio apartment, I thought over my dreams. It was my fourth dream of the same thing that week. The same wolf, the same man, the same location, the same words he uttered at the end.

Zephyr Brent, part of the new group of shifters that started to frequent the island. Thanks to my best friend, Harper, who had a life with the group’s leader, Alex, and Zephyr, Alex’s best friend, the two of us formed a tentative civility. At first, we had even gotten along. I had teased him… Until I found out exactly who he was and what wolf line he came from.

They’ve come back to protect the island. It’s fate, Adalyn. I am not telling you to befriend them, but do not make an enemy of them , my grandmother, Greta, had urged.

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “They made an enemy of me first when they killed my parents.”

It hadn’t been Zephyr himself, but I didn’t like that he couldn’t keep to himself. I practically tasted my distrust around him; it was that thick.

My coffee machine beeped noisily, and I picked up my drink, sipping as I began to get ready.

I had bigger problems than wolves and tiredness.

Namely, my grandmother’s store to be opened in half an hour.

***

There was a mirror near the counter, and I sat behind it, crossed-legged on the swivel and beaten office chair. Catching sight of the dark circles beneath my eyes, I sighed. Dreaming of Zephyr was the last thing I wanted to deal with on top of everything else. I needed good sleep; I needed focus .

Yvanna, a regular, came in at six-thirty on the dot to purchase her usual herbs and crystals. She was a young witch in training, younger than my age of twenty-five, and I had been the one to mentor her. She was working on shields with me. Every morning, she updated the pocket of herbs she tied to her belt loops. I rang her items up, trying to feel the caffeine’s effect much sooner than they wanted to work.

“Addie,” she said quietly. She shifted, hovering. “Say, there are some rumors going around. Rumors that the shifters are the cause of all the demon activity.”

I hesitated. My grandmother had been careful in her advice on how to deal with questions and rumors. We were supposed to assure but not enable. Comfort but not confirm.

“The demons have always been active,” I told her. Yet we all knew they had fallen quiet for a long time. It was true: wolves and witches coming together once again on the island had attracted them. “But if you keep up with those lessons and join me with the shielding work, then we will be well-protected.”

“But the wolves—”

I shook my head. Greta had strictly informed me to not incite hatred against the wolves, no matter my own view of them. I was not to sway the thoughts of others.

“They have a right to be here,” I sighed. “And there’s no proof that the wolves are the reason for the demons. How about I throw in a handful of extra crystals for further measure?”

At that, Yvanna grinned. At only seventeen years old, she was fresh, allured by the sparkle and darkness of it all. I rang her up without any more questions—thankfully—and when she was gone, I brewed another coffee. As I walked around the store, cupping my hot mug that read This witch is a bitch —a gift from Harper last year for my birthday—I listened out.

The store had fallen into a peaceful hush. It was the sort that made me know that something was amiss about the island. The hush of a held breath. I had learned to ignore warning signs that didn’t prove to be anything dangerous, and this was one of those, but I made triple sure of that before averting my attention elsewhere.

Books surrounded me, shelved against the walls. Around the store were glass cases of crystals. Specific containers grew herbs that I would sell later on in the week. Greta’s store sold everything: witch history, island lore, and even the wolf lore that I liked to pretend wasn’t part of my history.

For the next hour, I went about the general tidy-up I had already done the night before, but it kept me awake, my hands busy, and my mind off Zephyr Brent. Zephyr, with those gorgeous green eyes that haunted my sleeping hours.

My grandmother wasn’t due to arrive for another couple of hours, so I had time to do my own thing. As a younger witch with no parents who guided my teaching, I relied on catching up on my grandmother’s lessons. Some days, I felt like the most powerful woman on the island. On other days, I felt weak and like a disappointment to the legacy my coven had created in years gone by.

But I was a witch. I was a Lindell witch. Adalyn Lindell. Nobody could take that name from me or the powers it came with. I had a strong ancestry and lineage. A group of wolves wouldn’t change that. Even wolves I liked—aside from Zephyr, who took every opportunity to get under my skin.

Stop , I told myself. You have bigger worries than a naked Zephyr in your dreams. Like demon attacks. Like adding to the shields on the north side of the beach.

I needed to do a spell to figure out where the attacks had come most, and I would go to that spot to work on the defenses next.

But then the bell above the door of the store rang, and in walked the very problem I was trying not to focus on.

He and another man in front of him.

Zephyr and Hector.

I paused. Seriously? I had just managed to escape Zephyr in my dreams—did he have to plague me while I was awake, too?

“Morning,” I called out to Hector, ignoring the green-eyed shifter behind him who watched me with distrust heavily in his gaze. He then flicked his attention coolly to the trinkets and books around them, his eyes narrowing. His discomfort became palpable.

“Are you lost?” I joked. My attention strayed to the tight-fitting black tank Zephyr wore beneath a black plaid shirt. I felt his heartbeat beneath my palm in my dream. What would it feel like in real life? God, I needed to knock it off.

“No,” Hector answered, completely missing the joke. “I need a map of the island.”

“Tourist shop is…” I pointed right. “That way.”

“Not of this island as we know it,” he muttered. “Of the demon world. Wherever they come from.”

I scowled. “I’m sorry, what do you think this is? A demon Drive-Thru? Wolves, witches, weird shit. That’s what I sell.”

“But demons are part of the island’s history, no?”

“Of course they are, but that doesn’t mean we know their world layout. I’m sorry, but I don’t have what you need.”

Behind him, Zephyr snorted. “Let’s not pretend like your whole fucking store isn’t a gimmick, anyway.” He clapped a hand on Hector’s shoulder. “Hec, let’s get outta here. Breakfast is calling from that waffle place around the corner. This place is a load of bullshit.” He looked at me, a sarcastic smile on his face. “Sorry.”

I breathed in slowly. I reminded myself that tonight, I could switch off. I’d have a glass of wine with Harper, I’d hug the little beasties she and Alex had, and things would be okay.

I looked right at Zephyr. “If you think it's bullshit, go right ahead and take one of those crystals.” I dimmed the lights in the store, letting them flicker. “And at midnight, you take out those crystals, place them right at the shoreline, and—”

“Enough, witch,” Zephyr spat. He scowled, rearing back. “Fuck right off with all that.”

I shrugged. “I’m only saying. I respect your space. You respect mine.”

Zephyr snarled. “I will never respect you or your fancy coven with your parlor tricks. Witches have done fuck all for this island, from what I hear. If witches are enough, why aren’t you taking down the demons yourself?” He cocked his head. I seethed quietly. “Why are they still a problem?” He laughed, dry and mocking. “Witches haven’t done anything but hide away in their little covens, light candles, and braid each other’s hair.”

I slammed my palms into the counter. The whole store shook. “Get. Out.”

“Make me,” he spat. “Go on, use that little witch magic of yours. Give us a real taste. Unless it truly is a gimmick.”

“Knock it off, Zeph,” Hector grumbled. “Adalyn, I’m sorry for this. We’ll be heading out—”

“Oh, no,” Zephyr drawled. “No, we’re staying. I want to see what she’s capable of.” His eyes burned into me, a silent challenge in them.