This Weakness For You (Entangled Select Otherworld) (Taming the Pack)

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This Weakness For You (Entangled Select Otherworld) (Taming the Pack) Page 28

by Wendy Sparrow


  “You’re going to go talk to her when she’s naked?” Christa asked doubtfully.

  He ruffled her hair, just like her own brother—great. “Sister, that is the best time to talk to a woman.”

  Christa frowned after Garret as he walked toward the woman dragging a corpse. “This was a strange way to meet the in-laws.”

  “I think that’s what Jordan was thinking, too. But your boy’s not a bad shot,” her dad said, patting her knee. “He aims for the throat, too. I gotta admire a man who aims for the throat.”

  “Until it’s your throat,” Dane muttered.

  She sent him a dirty look. “Is he better than me? He said he couldn’t make a shot at two hundred meters.”

  “Oh, he was walking and made that shot. Either he was trying to be nice, or he’s just one lucky devil.”

  “Both,” Jordan called over his shoulder.

  Her dad looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “Their hearing is pretty incredible,” she explained. “He can also see in the dark and track things by scent.”

  “That’s how we found you. He followed your scent. Until we got closer…and then we just followed the horrific caterwauling.”

  “I was trying to block Ross’s hearing, you guys.”

  “You kept throwing off my aim with those high notes in ‘Memory.’ I don’t think even cats screech like that,” her dad said.

  She jabbed her finger at the air. “That wasn’t really in my vocal range, and I was trying for annoying. You should have heard ‘Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina’! It sounded really good. It sounds better in a shower stall, but it wasn’t bad.”

  Dane leaned forward. “Then there was ‘Oklahoma,’ and I kept wanting to swing my gun in your direction and put you out of your misery…or Ross out of his.”

  “The pause between ‘Memory’ and ‘Oklahoma’ was the problem—he heard you guys behind the cabin and the duct tape came out. But it might have anyway with ‘Oklahoma.’ He handled it longer than I thought he would.”

  “He was a paramedic for a while,” Dane said. “I bet the sirens dulled his aversion to high-pitched squealing.”

  Jordan groaned and turned to their group. “Of course!”

  Travis dragged both hands down his face. “How could I forget that? No wonder he could manage copying the poachers in Rainier.”

  “What happened to Ross?” she asked the Alphas.

  “We got him,” one of the other Alphas said with a smile. It made her swallow and shudder. He probably ripped the throat out of people who crossed him. He stared at her. She stared back. Just because he did freak her out, she wasn’t about to show weakness.

  Finally, he turned to Jordan and said something quietly.

  Jordan glanced at her and smiled and then looked at the other Alpha and shook his head.

  A few seconds later, the Alphas split up, and Jordan came toward them. “Black Tusk said there’s a white supremacist compound near the border that the government has been looking to raid. He’s voting we pack up all our poachers into their death trucks, and he’ll drive them there. He’s planning on setting the scene to look like a turf war. At the very least, it’ll confuse law enforcement long enough for us to clean up this area.”

  He looked at her dad. “Did you hit any of the poachers with your bullets? I’d hate for anything to be traced back to you.”

  He shook his head. “No, just hit the straps. It seemed wrong to take them out with so many of them on the ground hoping to do that.”

  “I think Alanna is planning on digging out any bullets anyway, and Olympus is gathering up the bullets from the ground and trees. Since they got here late, we gave them cleanup.”

  “We had the farthest to travel!” one of the Alphas yelled back.

  “What about the Lycans? What will happen with their bodies?” Christa asked. There were eight dead Lycans among the packs.

  “They’re all in wolf form, so the individual packs will decide how to deal with it.”

  “That’s convenient,” her dad said.

  “No,” Jordan said. “It’s our way. If we sense we’re going to die, we shift. We enter this world on two legs, but leave on four…unless we have a good reason not to. Most Lycans with human mates don’t, but the rest do.” After saying that, he moved behind her and crouched down to hug her. “How are you, by the way?”

  The attention sent tingles across her body, even if she flushed because her dad was there. “I’m good. I think they latched the straps on that gurney too tight.”

  She turned to look at him in time to catch the smirk as he said, “Good to know.”

  “Tell me when you’re going to marry my daughter on paper. I think her mother might like to be there,” her dad said.

  Jordan froze.

  “I think maybe around Valentine’s Day,” Christa said. “Mom would like that.”

  Jordan’s sigh sounded almost painful.

  “But I was thinking of asking Travis to do a ceremony back at Jordan’s house today, since the pack will be there—and some of our family.” She looked around. “Life is too short to waste time.”

  Her dad nodded. “I can give you away twice. It’ll give me practice for in front of your mom, but she’ll still find something wrong with the way I walk or something, anyway. We’ll just pretend the one in front of your mom was the only one.” He stood up. “I think I’m going to start walking back to the Jeep. At some point, you’ve seen enough naked people dragging around dead bodies for one day.” He gestured across the way. “It doesn’t seem to bother your brother, though.”

  “He was adopted,” Jordan said.

  Laughing, her dad walked off.

  “Only Garret could pick up a woman at a battle to the death.” Jordan shook his head.

  They all watched as Jordan’s brother continued flirting with the Lycan who’d just dropped the dead poacher’s body between them.

  “Well, as fun as this is, my fingerprints are on file,” Dane said, standing up. “I’m not touching anything. I think I’ll head back with my dad.”

  “Sissy,” Jordan said.

  Dane turned and pointed at Christa. “You’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  Christa rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out.

  Dane shook his head. “Maybe I’ll ask Dad if I can give you away this time. I’ve been dreaming of doing that my whole life. I tried to sell you to the neighbors right after you were born, but they wouldn’t take you. I might’ve known I should’ve given you away.”

  She glared at her brother.

  Jordan waited until they were out of earshot before leaning in and whispering against the skin beneath her ear, “I thought I’d survived this whole thing just to have you kill me when you said Valentine’s Day. I wouldn’t have lasted a month—not in the same house with you.”

  She pressed back against him. “It would have served you right if I’d let you keep thinking that until we got back, but I figured we needed to ask Travis.”

  “He already said yes.” He kissed a line down her neck to her shoulder.

  “Mmm. Then we have a good reason to toss everyone out of our house tonight. Get your stuff and get out. Team-building is over.”

  Several Lycans from Glacier pack laughed at this, and she blushed. Someday, she’d shut up before she said things like that with the pack around.

  “What did that other Alpha say to you about me? It’s not fair that he whispered so I couldn’t hear.”

  Jordan laughed and picked her up.

  She put her arms around his neck without protesting. Weak, strong…it didn’t seem to matter when you were with the one you were supposed to be with. And he did like to carry her around.

  “He said that he was glad I’d finally found an alpha female dominant enough to keep me humble. He also asked if you had a sister.” He started carrying her through the forest. “If you did, I’d be glad to see her end up with Black Tusk.”

  “He’s a good guy?”

  “He’s not too bad, but I jus
t think Glacier has all the Hansens it can handle.”

  “What was that, Jordan? You wanted to hear me sing ‘Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina’?”

  A load of Lycans turned and shouted, “No!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vanessa cried through the whole ceremony…though it was mostly because Christa had insisted on Lucifer being present for the wedding.

  Her father must have forgotten the cat’s name because he asked, “You want Satan at your wedding?” And for the first time, he looked at Jordan like he was wishing he’d kept his rifle in his hands.

  Dane insisted he give his sister away, and there was something nearly gleeful in his expression that might have frightened a lesser man.

  The words blurred in Jordan’s memory, even though he meant them as he said them. He kept staring at Christa and thinking, This is mine to keep. Forever. And it felt like a rebirth—like everything from the past really was over. This was a new start. The beginning of a new life.

  And he was anxious to begin. He gave Travis a stern stare when it seemed like the other Alpha might be prolonging it to frustrate him.

  Vanessa ran from the room as soon as Christa said “I do,” as if the hounds from hell were after her, and Lucifer did follow her, so she might not have been wrong. Dane had already packed up their things beforehand—as had most of his pack, which was good because Jordan didn’t stop kissing Christa once Travis told him he could. He picked her up and carried her out of the room, much to the amusement of everyone. He could hear them laughing behind him, but he didn’t care. He was Alpha—he could do whatever he wanted—and hopefully Christa would let him.

  At the door to his room, he finally pulled back from kissing her and called over his shoulder as he opened it, “Glacier pack, disperse—especially if you have young and impressionable offspring.”

  Christa dropped her face into his shirt, laughing.

  He kicked the door closed behind him. His pack was leaving in a fast mass exodus, even as they were all chuckling to themselves and telling stories about their marriages. There was also talk about holding team-building get-togethers like this every year.

  “How would you feel about having the pack stay over some weekend next year?”

  She tipped her head back and met his eyes. “Well, you might have to add on eventually. I promised you we’d fill a few of these rooms ourselves.”

  The idea of his child inside her made him breathe faster, and his heart burned like it had lit on fire. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was having a heart attack—it was that strong and that intense. “I love you.”

  She grinned. “Well, that’s good, because you’re keeping me, and because I love you, too. But seriously, you didn’t have a chance from the moment you opened that door to me and Lucifer.”

  He set her on the bed. “I didn’t have a chance from the time I walked into the hospital room.”

  She toed off her shoes and slid back into the middle of his bed. She was wearing a simple white dress that almost looked like a cotton nightgown, but she’d covered it with that red cloak—much to her brother’s chagrin.

  He unbuttoned his sleeves, slowly, enjoying the way her breathing got faster and more shallow.

  “How much of this do you think is the scent-match?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

  He pulled his shirt off and then prowled across the bed toward her, which brought a smile to her perfectly feminine lips. He stopped at her feet and sat back on his heels. “Right at this moment, I love the way you are my equal if not my superior. I cherish the way you give me hell if I’m behaving like an ass. I adore that smile on your mouth right now, which is the smile of someone who looks and admits to it. I’m humbled that you’re willing to put up with an old wolf who is willing to learn a few new tricks.”

  Her laugh was deep and throaty as she tipped her head back.

  “You arouse me, astound me, and I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. And also, I think you smell nice.”

  Her head tipped forward, and her eyes sparkled mischievously as she met his gaze—met it and held it. If she had any idea how that tugged at his heart, not to mention would lead straight here to the bedroom…

  She reached up with one hand and unbuckled the clasp at her neck. The red cloak fell around her. Yeah, her brother had totally missed the mark with that joke.

  “What big eyes you have,” she said.

  “The better to see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” He crawled the rest of the way and propped his hands on either side of her as he bent over her. He’d remember this moment until the day he died. Her hair splayed across the red fabric, and the white dress made her look like a virginal sacrifice left out for a beast. The wolf reared up in him, and though he pushed it back, he also saw her eyes dilate and watched her mouth drop open. He grabbed her and rolled so that she was on top.

  “And Red Riding Hood came home from Grandma’s house to find there was a wolf in her bed,” Christa said, pushing up to sitting. Straddling his thighs brought her dress high on hers. One of her sleeves dropped down, exposing a bare shoulder. That was certainly not her grandmother’s nightdress.

  The wolf inside pushed against his restraints again—a primal need growled for release. Mate. Mine.

  She licked her lips, leaving a wet sheen that made his own mouth go dry. “He was a big, black wolf…with eyes like midnight and sharp, sharp teeth.”

  “And what did she do?” he asked. Every inch of his body begged for him to rush, to take her—to finish what they’d started with their first kiss. Instead, he crossed his arms behind his head and waited to see what Christa would do.

  Christa leaned across him, as he’d been doing to her a moment ago. She put her hands on his wrists, pinning them in place. “She asked him to stay. Red Riding Hood said she was strong enough to handle him.”

  “Sounds like she tamed him,” he said.

  Christa grinned, leaned forward, and whispered against his lips, “Hell, I hope not.”

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  Acknowledgments

  It seems odd to acknowledge a fictional character, let alone one of my own making, but this story wouldn’t exist if not for Jordan. I began writing this sequel before I’d completed its predecessor. He insisted. Thank you to all the readers who asked for Jordan’s story—letting me know it wasn’t just me he was tormenting. Some stories must be told.

  Many years ago, it became a foregone conclusion with my doctors that I had MS. When one test came back negative, they ran another because it was the only single condition that accounted for my symptoms. I buried myself in studies of my assumed diagnosis and I lurked in support forums and talked with people with MS. In the end, I had several immune deficiency conditions contributing to my symptoms, but not MS. I have the utmost respect for those who do battle MS—you belong as heroines and heroes of stories. Thank you for inspiring me and for giving me support when I thought I’d be joining you.

  The universe had it out for me with the timing of this book. Special thanks to my husband for hugging me when I fell apart; to my best friend, Stephanie Summers, for taking me out to lunch when I got all screechy; and to Jay Donavon, Amalia Dillin, Kait Nolan, Heidi Ludwig, Sarah Simonsen, and Jaime Dix for assuring me I wasn’t going mad when you knew I really was.

  Twitter, you are my rock. Thank you. *lifts up lighter*

  Thank you to everyone at Entangled for your support and brilliance—especially Lewis Pollak, Terese Ramin, and the other editors and staff who contributed to helping me get it right. You were patient with someone whose health and life intruded.

  To my agent, Sarah Yake—onward!

  Finally, my family and friends were wonderful during this. They tiptoed
around me when I needed space and supported me when I wanted to scream. Thank you.

  About the Author

  Writing is in Wendy’s blood…which is also about thirty percent Mountain Dew and twenty percent chocolate brownies. Wendy has been telling tales since she was a child with varying amounts of success. Her parents clearly anticipated her forays into the paranormal because she heard “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” so many times she could have written the screenplay at age five. She lives with a wonderful husband and two quirky kids and is active in Autism and OCD support networks. She can usually be found on Twitter where she’ll talk to anyone who talks to her and occasionally just to herself.

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  Reviews help other readers find books. We appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Thank you for reading!

  Discover the Taming the Pack series…

  Past My Defenses

  Vanessa is the fastest Lycan around. In wolf form, the only threat she can’t outrun is her allergies. After a feline dander-bomb takes her down, she wakes up naked and in a cage, staring at a hot park ranger who had no idea what he’d trapped. When they learn that Lycans are being poached, and Vanessa is targeted, Dane will have to keep her close to protect her. But with Vanessa in heat and mad to mate, who will protect him?

  Other books by Wendy Sparrow

  Frosted

  On His List

  Cursed by Cupid

 

 

 


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