Dark Instincts

by Suzanne Wright

  “She was.”

  “Marcus, I don’t understand.”

  Pulling up at the side of the road, he killed the engine—resigned to the fact that he’d need to tell Roni this twisted tale. “She used to disappear for days at a time. When she’d come back, she’d be battered and bruised. Not because she’d been attacked, but because she’d wanted it.” Seeing Roni’s perplexed look, he smiled weakly. “I don’t really understand it myself. I’ve heard about sexual masochism, but most people involved in that lifestyle are totally normal people with a kink that others might not understand. But my mother . . . it’s not sexual for her, she just likes to suffer. And in being the way she is, she makes everyone around her suffer.”

  Wow. Nothing he said could have stunned Roni more.

  “When we were in our old pack, she knew everyone thought my dad was abusing her, knew about the whispers and rumors, but she didn’t care. He tried to help her, but he couldn’t, because she didn’t want help—she still doesn’t. I think she does love me and my sisters, but she doesn’t seem to want us to love her. If I tried to hug her, she’d push me away. She needs to be a constant victim.”

  The pain of that rejection was in his voice, and it made Roni’s wolf whine. Wanting to comfort him but not really sure what to do, Roni simply laid a supportive hand over his. He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed gently.

  “When she’d vanish for a few days, I was glad. I used to dread her coming home because I knew what state she’d be in: covered in whip marks, bruises, cuff marks, burns. I don’t know where she used to go—I know there are clubs that cater to that kind of thing. Or maybe she had an arrangement with someone who got off on beating the crap out of women.”

  “It must have been hard.” She almost groaned at herself for the clichéd comment, but she didn’t know what to say. What did a person say to someone who grew up with that shit?

  “Confining her to the house didn’t work because she’d resort to self-harm. I once found her in her bedroom with a plastic bag around her head.” He’d thought he was saving her when he freed her, but she’d been angry at him. It hadn’t been the last time something like that happened.

  “Was it an attention-seeking thing?”

  He shook his head. “She didn’t do any of it for attention—she just liked it, liked the pain, liked the humiliation, both physical and emotional. My dad tried everything to help her. He stood by her through it all. He never told anyone; he let everyone believe he was abusing her. My sisters and I were sworn to secrecy.”

  “Did anyone find out?” Surely something like that couldn’t be kept totally buried.

  “Trick knew. He was with me one day when I found her slicing her arms with her own claws. But he didn’t betray the secret. I wanted to tell people, but I knew my dad would have made us switch packs to protect her from their disgust—he always put her first. Other than my sisters, who were the ones who really took care of me, my friends were all I had.”

  “Are you in contact with your parents?”

  “No. I tried to have a relationship with them, but I can’t. What my mother does . . . it’s like an addiction. Whether my dad realizes it or not, he’s her enabler. He’s emotionally distant, which helps her since she recoils from affection. But he can’t give her the physical pain she needs. So he takes her to these clubs, lets someone beat the living shit out of her, and then he takes her home.”

  What a total mind fuck. Following her wolf’s instinct, Roni rubbed her jaw against his shoulder. It seemed to soothe him, because he took a deep breath and then kissed her hair. She knew now why he hid behind a carefree mask. He didn’t want to care, because then he wouldn’t hurt anymore. Not only had his mother rejected him, but his father had rejected him too when Marcus’s strength became apparent. If someone was carefree and happy on their own, they didn’t need anyone else, they didn’t need love, and then they couldn’t be rejected, could they?

  “Maybe it’s unfair, but I can’t go there to visit them, Roni. I can’t look at them and pretend I’m okay with it. I get that, in their own way, they’re both trapped. And I get that my dad thinks he’s making the best out of a bad situation. But I can’t be part of it. If that makes me a shit son . . . well, then, I’m a shit son. I just can’t be part of the lies anymore.”

  She leaned into him, feeling helpless. “It doesn’t make you a bad son.”

  “On my dad’s birthday last year, he asked us all to get together for a family meal. I didn’t want to go, but my sisters convinced me to give it a try. My mother was sitting there, black and fucking blue with rope burns around her neck and wrists, and we all had to pretend it was fine. I couldn’t do it. I walked out, and I haven’t seen either of them since. Teagan doesn’t visit them either, but she talks to Dad over the phone sometimes.”

  Understanding now the source of all that anger trapped in ice, Roni felt like shit. He’d grown up watching his mother hurt herself over and over again, had been forced to let his father bear unwarranted shame, and she’d just made him talk about it. “Marcus, I’m really sorry I dredged this up. I really—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “I would have told you at some point. It’s just not an easy thing to talk about. But now that you know, maybe you can understand what I’ve been saying to you. My mother doesn’t want love or affection, but she’s still needy and clingy in her own way. You worry that I want to control you. You don’t get that your independent streak is one of the things I like most about you. You’re not needy. You’re not weak. You’re not self-centered. You’re self-reliant, strong, protective, and good to those who matter to you.”

  She gave a soft snort. “That’s quite a glossy picture you painted there. I have my flaws.”

  “We all have our flaws, sweetheart. If we were perfect, we’d be boring and predictable. You are never boring.”

  “The Seer said your mate would be like your mother, didn’t she?” Roni guessed. It would explain why he believed he couldn’t make his mate happy and vice versa.

  He nodded. “Teagan confides in Kerrie, so she knows about my mother. She said she thought it was fair to warn me that my mate was the same.” He raked a hand into her hair. “But I’m not interested in visions or spiritual bullshit. This—you and me, here and now—is real. You’re what matters, Roni. I want you. You said back there to Kerrie that you wouldn’t walk away because of some vision. But did you really mean it? Do you really want me the way I want you?”

  Surprisingly, the answer to that was easy. “I do.” If he’d tried to steamroll his way into her life, Roni could have fought that. But he’d done it so sneakily, so subtly, that she initially hadn’t even realized it was happening. And then it was too late; he was inside her now, embedded deep, and there was no pushing him out.

  It was her own fault, really. In the very beginning, she’d branded him a smooth-talking player who could never truly interest her, thus deciding he was of no threat to her defenses. She hadn’t been on her guard, and he’d taken advantage of that, slipped through the cracks of her shields and began to worm his way in, little by little.

  The guy was so different from her, it was laughable. He was charming, very likeable, at ease dealing with people, and easily accepted by those around him. But he was also similar to her in some ways. He was loyal, perceptive, protective, and he took care of those who mattered to him; he knew what was important.

  Honestly, he could do so much better than her, but she’d be dumb to push him away. She didn’t want to. Being the focus of such a strong, solid, dominant wolf . . . it wasn’t just thrilling and flattering. It made her feel safe, secure, respected . . . even cherished. He defended her, but he didn’t do it in a way that disrespected or undermined her. Although he worked hard to get his own way, he didn’t try to manage her or dictate to her. What’s more, he made her feel like she was fine just the way she was. Nobody had ever done that before.

  “Be certain, Roni. Be absolutely positive that you want this, because there’ll be no bac
king out.” If she were his mate—which he was afraid to hope for—then great. But if she wasn’t, he was still going to keep her. He wasn’t kidding when he’d told her that he’d kill her mate before he let him take her.

  “I’m sure. But are you? Is this going to be something you can handle if we do take things another step further? Everything you saw growing up has made you confused about what it means to care. You’ve never seen it as a positive thing. To you, it was toxic: misery, suffering, and pain.”

  “But not with you.”

  “How do you know that, when you’ve never really let yourself care about me? You wanted to own me, because you thought that if you did, I couldn’t reject you and leave,” she now realized. “That’s different. To take things further is to take a step that would most likely lead to imprinting. You have to be sure you want that.”

  Thinking on that, Marcus realized she was right. From the beginning, he’d wanted to possess her, own her—but that wasn’t “caring” about her. The fact was, though, that he did care about her. He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t seen it coming. But then, he hadn’t expected Roni. “I’m positive. This, you, is what I want.”

  Assured by the conviction in his tone, she nodded. “Good.”

  “Then it’s done.” The words were final, a vow. There was no going back now, not for either of them. Pulling her closer by her hair, he kissed her hard, needing her taste in his mouth. “Mine. All mine.” She actually rolled her eyes at him. He smiled. “You can be just as possessive, Roni. Gets me hard every time.”

  She snorted. “A burger gets you hard.”

  “But it doesn’t taste as good as you do.” He licked along her bottom lip. “When we get back, I’m going to bite my way down your body, marking every bit, until I get to your—”

  “Enough.” Seeing that his smile had grown to epic proportions, she asked, “What?”

  “You just smiled.”

  “I did not.”

  “I saw it.”

  “You were hallucinating.”

  He shook his head, chuckling. “Nope, I saw you smile. I saw those pretty little dimples.”

  “I do not have dimples, Fuller!” She had to resist the urge to immaturely stomp her foot.

  “Here comes that schoolteacher tone again. Will I have to stay behind after class? I’ll do whatever it takes to get an A.”

  How was she supposed to keep a straight face when he said stuff like that?

  “You’re smiling again.”

  “Fuck. Off.”

  “Now that’s just mean.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Having finished drying her hair in Marcus’s room, Roni began making her way through the tunnels en route to the kitchen. She’d sent Marcus ahead of her, tired of listening to him whining that he was “wasting away” and needed breakfast. She honestly didn’t know how his system coped with the amount of food he consumed on a daily basis, honestly couldn’t believe that—

  She halted at a junction as she came almost face-to-face with none other than Greta. Marcus had repeatedly asked Roni to avoid being alone with the old woman, suspecting that Greta would ignore Trey’s warnings and set out to aggravate her. Well, duh. Over the past two months, Roni had done just that in order to keep the peace.

  It was kind of sweet that Marcus was so protective of Roni that even the thought of a senile old heifer giving her shit bugged him. But it was also amusing that he thought she needed his help, because if there was one thing Roni knew how to deal with, it was an interfering relative.

  Greta started to speak, and Roni raised a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. You don’t think I’m good enough for Marcus.” She sighed, being sure to look sad and insecure. “Honestly, I’d have to agree with you. I mean, I’m not pretty like the other females he dated. I’m not warm and caring like he is. I’m not the least bit likeable. God, even my own mother doesn’t like me.”

  Greta’s scowl eased the tiniest bit. “I’m sure she does.”

  Roni shook her head. “No, she loves me because I’m her daughter, but she doesn’t like me.” Roni let some fake tears surface and then acted as if she were discreetly wiping them away. “She says I need to change. She says I should be more girly and wear makeup and stuff. She wants me to be like Eliza.”

  “The attorney?” Greta curled her upper lip in distaste. “I don’t like her. She flirted shamelessly with my boys, tried seducing them all.”

  “She flirts like that with everyone, even Marcus.” Which was why the bitch had ended up with salt in her coffee. “I don’t want to be like that.”

  “You don’t have to be.”

  “My mom says I’ll have to if I want to keep Marcus’s interest. But he’s not shallow. Whatever others may think¸ that male is far from shallow. It makes me mad that they don’t see it. But you see it, don’t you? You know him better than most.”

  Greta’s chest almost seemed to puff up slightly. “Yes, I do. That boy is special.”

  “I agree. And I appreciate you being so protective of him. He’s like a son to you, so it’s only natural that you would be. It’s clear that you had a hand in raising him, Ms. Tyler.” Roni forced an admiring smile. “You did good with him. Really good.”

  Hearing footsteps heading through the tunnels and suspecting it was Roni, Marcus turned his head to greet her. Seconds later, she entered the room . . . with Greta’s arm linked through hers. Equally astonishing, Greta actually led Roni to the seat beside him.

  Trey’s grandmother then gave him a stern look. “You look after Roni, Marcus. You hear me?”

  He wasn’t sure if he had heard her, because those words sounded a little surreal. “W-what?”

  Greta actually pointed her finger at him. “I won’t have her treated by you the way her mother treats her. I like Kathy, I do, but I don’t agree with cold parenting.” She gave Roni an affectionate pat on the hand. “If it ever gets too bad at home, sweetheart, you come stay with us for a while.”

  Roni smiled softly. “Thanks, Ms. Tyler.”

  “None of that—I told you, call me Greta.” She found a seat farther along the table as Roni sat next to Marcus.

  He could only stare open-mouthed at his pretty little wolf. “Good God, Roni, how did you do it?”

  Roni gave him a “seriously?” look. “I was raised by Kathy Axton. You don’t survive that without learning how to cope with fierce, interfering, old females.”

  Opposite Roni, Taryn shook her head incredulously. “I don’t know what you did, or how you did it, but I’m in total awe of you.”

  “What are you whispering, hussy?” snarled Greta.

  “If I wanted you to know, I’d have said it loudly.”

  The old woman humphed. “It’s rude to whisper. But I wouldn’t expect anything different from you—no manners.”

  “Are we back to this again? As you can see, your complaints are very important to us here at ‘Still Not Giving a Fuck World.’”

  “You should take a leaf out of Roni’s book. She knows how to speak to her elders.” Greta gave Roni a smile of approval. The entire table looked at Roni in wonder and respect.

  At that moment, Dominic entered the room, took the seat on Roni’s other side, and smiled at her. “Well, I’m here. What are your other two wishes?”

  Jaime laughed, the others groaned, Marcus slapped Dominic over the back of the head, and Roni hit Dominic with another cheesy line. All in all, a normal morning at Phoenix Pack territory.

  After breakfast, Roni insisted on going to check on Shaya, since Roni hadn’t been home for a few days. She had begun to spend more and more time at Phoenix Pack territory—so much so that some of her things had made their way into Marcus’s room. Likewise, some of Marcus’s belongings had found a home in her lodge. They rarely spent a night apart, which she would have expected to find irritating, since Roni liked her space. But she never felt like Marcus was eating up that space. It was more like he was fitting into it.

  Considering they had decided to make their
relationship permanent, Roni had expected imprinting to start. But it hadn’t. And she didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t understand it. She’d made the decision to stay with him, just as he had her. She cared about him more than she was comfortable with, and she believed that he cared for her. Yet, nothing.

  Of course it could mean that she was simply too messed up to really accept another person that fully into her life. Maybe Marcus hadn’t begun imprinting on her for the same reason. In any case, it hurt.

  Halfway home, she asked, “Has McGee sent any more messages to Trey through the pack web? I’m pretty sure Nick’s still getting them.” The first apologetic messages had been sent just a few hours after the jackal’s corpse had been dumped on Quinn’s land. Quinn claimed to have been oblivious to Lola’s plan, but no one was convinced of that, and no one had responded to his messages.

  Just thinking about Quinn made Marcus growl. “Yes. He keeps apologizing for his mate’s behavior and promising that he’s dealt with the matter himself. Basically, he wants reassurance that our packs won’t retaliate. That’s something we can’t give him.” Marcus had every intention of confronting the bastard.

  “We can’t afford to act on it right now. We’ve got more important things to do.” Like track down the wolf hacker.

  “I know.” His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Doesn’t mean I don’t often imagine ripping Quinn’s throat out.”

  Yeah, Roni had a similar fantasy. Something caught her eye in the wing mirror, and she frowned. “What is that?”

  “What?”

  “Something’s hanging on the end of the tailpipe.” To get a better look, she squeezed through the seats and onto the back row. “Oh, the little shit.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “It’s a fucking condom.”

  Marcus double-blinked. “A condom?”

  “Eli must have put it on the end of the tailpipe, or had someone else do it”—most likely Dominic—“and now it’s totally inflated and dragging behind us.” When Marcus stopped the car, she removed the condom, feeling equally irritated and amused.