by Fel Fern
Hearing a growl nearby, he jumped. On second thought, it didn’t seem like it came from the cabin. Hesitantly, he walked out of the room. Was this Joe’s room? There were two other rooms in the corridor. Curious, he tried both doorknobs, which weren’t locked. Both rooms were furnished, but its occupants seemed long gone judging from the dust that accumulated and the old peeling posters on the wall.
Feeling like an intruder, he left the last room and remembered what he intended to do. Find the source of that growl. He found himself back in the living room. Where was Joe, anyway? Did the werewolf enforcer step out?
“I know that,” came Joe’s voice, and he spotted the gorgeous werewolf leaning outside one of the windows, talking to someone else. “But I’m standing by my decision to take responsibility for Theo.”
He swallowed. Knowing he shouldn’t spy on Joe and whoever he was talking to but wanting to hear more, he padded closer. Shifters had excellent hearing and sense of smell, he remembered, but he didn’t think Joe would mind.
Whoever Joe spoke to didn’t answer.
“Are you going to ask me the same question Lance did?” Joe finally asked.
“What question is that?” came a woman’s voice.
Near the window now, he ducked his head and peered upward, biting his lip as he caught sight of Joe’s handsome profile. Next to him stood a slender and tall woman with striking white-gold hair. Then eerie silver eyes met his, and he found himself trapped, unable to look away. Those ancient eyes felt like they belonged in an older woman’s face. Before Joe took notice, she looked away.
The Ghost. Voss didn’t have a picture of her, but this woman fit her description. Walk away, don’t make her notice you again, said a voice in his head. She definitely saw him. Rumors said she and her brother possessed abilities normal shifters didn’t have. Run, every instinct told him. Theo should slip back to bed, pretend to be asleep when Joe came back.
“The Beta asked me what’s so special about Theo that I’ll risk all for him,” Joe said, words freezing him in place.
Screw Voss’s order. This was more important.
“I don’t need to ask. I know.”
Joe snarled. “What do you know?”
“Why did you ask for me instead of someone else you trust more?”
“Because you’re fair. I thought you only had blind obedience to Deacon, but you stood up for Forrest and his mate. I want you to give me and Theo the same chance.”
Silence.
“Sabine, what did you see when you tried reading Theo’s mind using your abilities?”
“I can’t read minds, Joe. Call it a feeling. Theo is…I don’t quite trust him. His mind has definitely been tampered with, and yet,” she paused.
“Yet? If you truly saw him as a threat, you would have torn out his throat without hesitation.”
“You’re right. He’s not truly broken and that’s saying a good deal. Theo’s a survivor, but how much of himself is genuine? You should go back inside, check on him. I’ll be standing guard outside.”
Joe grunted and that seemed to be the end of their conversation. Theo practically ran to the bedroom, chucked the covers over him, and curled on his side. Dizziness swamped him again. Shit. He shouldn’t have moved so fast, but he didn’t want to risk Joe seeing him.
Spying on them might only prove that he was Voss’s creature, which he wasn’t. Right?
He put his hands over his head. A headache began to build as the door creaked opened.
“Theo, you awake?” came Joe’s voice.
Theo remained painfully still, pretended to snore. Joe seemed satisfied and shut the door again. Theo still had tomorrow, another chance, but for what? To prove he wasn’t an enemy to Joe, his pack, and the entire Devil Hills paranormal community? A shot at killing Deacon Becker’s mate? Theo didn’t know.
Chapter Seven
The smell of sizzling meat made his stomach growl. Bacon, Theo managed to identify. He rubbed at his eyes, feeling the warm sunlight on his face and skin. He touched the mark on his neck again, reassurance yesterday’s events weren’t a figment of his imagination. Feeling the raised skin, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He pried the comforter away, smiling when he caught sight of the clothes and spare towel on the foot of the bed. Theo reached for them, surprised to find they were around his size. His heart warmed. Joe must have gone out of his way to borrow these. From a fellow pack mate, maybe?
Grabbing the items, he went inside the shower. He stripped down and took his time, once more enjoying the water, the luxury of having his own privacy. Theo finished off later, putting on the clothes which still hung a little loose on his frame, but they were a lot better of a fit than Joe’s clothes.
The only sad thing was, they didn’t carry Joe’s scent. What was he thinking? He was acting like a—shifter. Theo splashed water on his face before heading out the bathroom and to the dining room, mouth dropping open at the sight of all the food on the table.
Then he turned his gaze to the kitchen, sucking in a breath to see the Ghost seemingly teaching Joe how to cook.
“These are eggs. How can I burn them?” Joe mumbled. Both werewolves must’ve sensed his arrival, because they looked at him.
“Morning. Have a good night’s sleep?” Joe asked him, big grin on his face. He tried not to giggle, to keep his straight face on, because Joe also wore a blue checked apron.
“It’d be better if you slept with me.” Theo didn’t realize he mumbled those words. Joe widened his smile, and he blushed.
Joe cleared his throat.
“Theo, this is Sabine, a fellow packmate,” Joe said, nodding to the woman by the stove.
If he were straight, he supposed he would have found her attractive, but his gaze was only on Joe, who wore a pair of loose, holey jeans and that apron. God. Joe was the devil on two legs. He felt like a slob in his borrowed clothes, and he’d seen himself in the bathroom mirror. Theo still looked like shit. He couldn’t imagine how he appeared when Joe found him on the road.
Stop thinking of Joe, he told himself and focused on the predator in the skin of a pretty young woman instead.
“The Ghost,” he whispered. “They say you can walk up to anyone and kill them before they know what’s happening.”
Hide. Run. Don’t get her attention. Be invisible. Get to Daryl Rush.
He shut that annoying voice down.
She raised one eyebrow at him. “If you say it like that, you make me sound so scary.”
The tension in his shoulders loosened, especially after he saw she had an apron on it with the words ‘World’s Best Mom’ on it. It never occurred to him that she might be a mother. He relaxed a little. Wait, was she trying to act non-threatening on purpose? Stop it, he told himself. Theo was sick of questioning himself, of wondering if Voss really had him under his control.
He survived when the rest of his family died, lived through the torture and the pain to get to where he was. Theo wasn’t truly free, Voss still held his mind captive, but if he didn’t work on freeing himself from that trap, he’d never get anywhere with Joe.
“Are you,” he hesitated. Be yourself, be normal, he chided. God. What must Joe think of him? A freak? “Teaching Joe how to cook?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen Joe do anything so thoughtful for anyone else.”
Those words went right to his heart. So Joe didn’t just go around helping random strangers or cooking for them. Of course. Silly Theo. Was it because he was different, special somehow? Theo still had a hard time wrapping his head around the notion that Joe was attracted to a mess like him. He suddenly wished he was—more. Not broken or messed-up in the head or looking like a walking skeleton.
Joe groaned, glaring at her. “Why did you have to tell him that?”
“I—I think that’s sweet,” he blurted.
“Well, that’s my cue to leave. I’m sure you can handle making eggs now,” she told Joe. “It’s nice to meet you, Theo. I’ll see
you at the meeting, Joe.”
“Bye,” Joe grumbled.
Once she left, he awkwardly went to the werewolf to peer at the black things he assumed were eggs on the frying pan.
“Let’s turn the stove off before you burn your kitchen down,” he said, quickly turning the knob off.
“We’ll just have bacon and waffles,” Joe grumbled, looking disappointed.
He glanced at the amount of bacon and waffles on the table big enough to serve at a feast. “Hey, none of them’s burnt. Great job.”
Joe scowled. “When I ruined an entire pack, Sabine told me to stop wasting food and stand aside so I could observe.”
Unable to help himself, he laughed. “You don’t know how to cook?”
“One would think with two younger brothers, I should.”
Theo remembered the two bedrooms. “This is your family home?”
Then he recalled Joe lost his parents, because they were murdered by humans.
“Yeah, but Quentin and Marshall moved out a few years ago. We usually eat at the main pack house, or if we’re at home, we microwave TV dinners or eat anything’s that easy to make like instant noodles or jerky.” Joe scratched his head. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“You did.” He took a step forward, then placed his arms around Joe’s massive frame. Wow. It felt like hugging a brick wall, he thought, relieved when Joe hugged him back. “Thank you.”
“Sure. It’s not a big deal.”
Did the big lethal werewolf actually sound embarrassed? It was damn adorable.
“Theo, are you sniffing at me?”
He flashed Joe a guilty look.
“That proves part of you is still a shifter,” Joe said, running his big hands down his sides, his touch electric. Possessive. Take me, Theo silently begged. He let out a breath, wanting more, a continuation of what they started the night before, but Joe pulled away abruptly.
Theo took a seat in one of the dining room chairs, trying to hide his disappointment. Joe placed two sets of plates and cutlery, his gaze thoughtful. They ate in silence for a little bit. Real food tasted amazing on his mouth, but he had to ask Joe.
“Do you not want me anymore?” he blurted.
“Of course I do, but I can’t take you like this. You need to heal.”
“You said that last night, too.” Theo blew out a breath. Shouldn’t he be happy Joe was a gentleman? Suddenly, shame flooded him. Another person in his situation would be worried about his position, about his life hanging on a thread. “What’s going to happen now?”
“We—me and the other inner chain of command in the pack—will vote if you should stay.”
Theo took a sip of coffee, the hot caffeine effectively waking him up. He was scared to ask the next question. “What will happen if they vote I should leave?”
He wouldn’t fault the wolves. The Alpha and his enforcers were responsible for the safety of the pack and entire community. Heck, Theo didn’t even trust himself. Joe also belonged here, it was Theo who invaded his home. Well, technically, Joe carried him here, but the unselfish thing to do would be to let Joe forget him and resume the rest of his life. Except the new selfish part of him that found a new reason to live didn’t want to let go of Joe.
Joe kindled new hope inside of him that even a broken man like Theo shouldn’t give up on life.
“We’ll figure shit out together when that happens,” Joe said with a growl.
“It’s my problem.”
“No, it no longer is. Better get used to me being around,” Joe said, glint in his eyes.
His heart hammered.
There was a knock on the front door.
“That’s another packmate. He’ll be watching over you until I return, so be good.” Joe had purposely asked for Quentin.
His brother wasn’t just a senior member of the pack, dependable and a good warrior, he was also family. Joe had explained the situation on the phone and Quentin didn’t ask any further questions, merely said he’d swing by soon. Quentin was probably curious about Theo, too, but he’d reserve judgement.
He nodded, swallowing. “I’ll try.”
Chapter Eight
The odds weren’t good, Joe thought sourly, regarding everyone in the pack house meeting room, Deacon’s inner circle. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever imagine putting himself in this position, either.
“So, it’s happening all over again,” Max grumbled. “First Forrest, then the rest of you.”
The other enforcer jerked his head to Deacon, Santino, and Lance, then huffed, crossing his massive arms. In this room, Joe had been closest to Max, although lately Max seemed to be having his own personal issues. Max leveled his gray gaze at him. The other man was probably stung he only learned about Theo now.
They both grew up in the pack, had their own share of talents but didn’t exactly stand out like their ruthless and savage Alpha, controlled and logical Lance, or the exotic silver-eyed siblings.
“Joe’s situation is different. This human isn’t like Dave or Daryl Rush. He’s already been brainwashed by the Squad,” Santino said. “Who knows what he’ll do next?”
The Devil shot a glare not at him but at his sister, probably communicating mind-to-mind. For some unexplainable reason, they also shared a link with the Alpha, but Joe wasn’t worried. Yet. He knew Deacon would consider both sides of the argument.
Joe already knew he wouldn’t have Santino’s vote, but maybe Sabine would change her mind. Lance seemed willing to give Theo a chance yesterday, despite having his suspicions against Theo. Max would be pissed enough at him to vote against him. Forrest may take his side, given the fact he defied Deacon to bring his human mate to their lands. Ultimately, the final decision rested on their Alpha.
“The opinion of the rest?” Deacon asked, black gaze unreadable.
Theo wanted to see Daryl, had been pretty adamant about it. Joe neglected to mention that little detail, though. Why? His clenched his jaw. His loyalty to Deacon, the pack, and the community had never wavered, until now. What if Theo was a beautiful tempting trap designed for him?
Impossible, or was it?
“Theo spent the night at Joe’s, without resorting to any suspicious movements or harming anyone,” Sabine said. “His mind feels odd, jumbled and confused, but that’s expected after what he’s been through. He needs to be watched.”
“I won’t let him out of my sight,” Joe replied, grateful to have another ally.
“You’re siding with Joe?” Santino demanded.
“I vote we let Theo stay, see what happens for a few days. Joe promised to take responsibility for him anyway,” Lance interjected.
“Tell me, Joe. What’s so special about Theo that you’d go above and beyond for him?” Max interrupted.
“He’s my mate,” Joe said simply. Saying the words seemed natural. Max blew out a breath.
“You’re fucked, man, if he turns out to be one of Voss’s spies,” Max muttered under his breath.
Joe couldn’t help it, he laughed, probably surprising everyone there. “Don’t you think I know that? This situation is messing with my head, too.”
“You’re a good leader and fighter, Joe. Vital. Let this damned human go.”
Joe never thought he’d ever hear those words come out of Santino’s mouth, because Santino seemed likely to fight anyone who opposed him first. Even from where he stood, he could sense the aggressive energy coming from Santino’s wolf.
His own beast paced restlessly in him, itchy for a fight. This wasn’t good. The volatile enforcer was powerful enough to challenge Lance for Beta but for some reason that escaped him, Santino remained content to be where he was. The last thing he wanted was to clash with Santino with claws and teeth.
“Too late for that. Theo calls to my wolf in unexplainable ways,” he answered.
Santino muttered something under his breath. Sabine clasped his shoulder, must have said something in his mind, because Santino glowered but didn’t say anything else.
&n
bsp; “Fine, I vote Theo stays, too,” Max said, much to his surprise.
“Then it’s decided. I’ll give Theo a week. For now, he’s confined to Joe’s cabin and the area surrounding it, but if you’re not able to watch him, another packmate will be assigned to him,” Deacon said.
“Quentin has his eye on him right now,” Joe said, not letting the others hear the relief in his voice. Thankfully, they moved on to other topics, but his mind remained pre-occupied with thoughts of one man.
* * * *
“Yeah? And then what happened?” Theo asked, leaning closer to the kitchen counter.
Joe left hours ago. He started pacing the cabin and must’ve looked worried, because Joe’s younger brother, Quentin, invited him to the kitchen for tea and began sharing intriguing childhood stories.
Quentin, he learned, was twenty-seven, three years younger than Joe. There was no denying they were brothers, because they shared the blue eyes and bronze hair. Joe was a little taller, though, more padded with muscle.
“Joe made us what was supposed to be stew. Marshall and I pretended to eat it but kept heading to the bathroom to flush it down. Late at night, we snuck to the pack house’s kitchen only to find Joe there, gorging on a leg of ham.”
He laughed, unable to help it. Theo could imagine the scene in his head, that of three unruly boys causing mischief. Still, it must have been hard, raising two other younger brothers who happened to be dominant shifters themselves. Learning about Joe’s childhood gave him a little more insight into his wolf.
His wolf?
The kitchen door opened, and Joe scowled at his brother. “What have you been telling Theo?”
Quentin shrugged but gave him a secret wink. “Nothing interesting. How did the meeting go?”
Joe only had eyes for him. His heart beat faster as Joe approached him, settling his callused and rough hands on his waist. He only wanted to snuggle back in bed next to Joe’s big, warm, and muscled body. Theo squirmed in his seat, aware Joe could take one look down and see how happy he was between his legs. Then again, he felt Joe’s denim-clad dick rising.