Xander

by Dana Archer

  Xander’s low groan drew her attention back to him. Soapy bubbles clung to his veined length. He ran his hand over his balls, lifting and massaging them.

  She closed her mouth and averted her eyes. A deep inhale steadied her. What she was doing was wrong. She needed breathing room.

  She hopped from the sink and turned toward the bedroom.

  “Where are you going?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. Xander’s intense brown eyes stripped her raw. In that moment, she got the impression he could see into her soul. Part of her wanted to ask him what he saw. She didn’t dare voice the question. If he told her she looked like a timid, weak human, she’d fail. Her fragile self-esteem couldn’t handle the blow. Pathetic but true.

  “I wanted to see if Reno brought food up yet. I’m hungry.” And she needed to plan how she’d coerce a promise out of Xander before he pulled her into his arms. Once he got his mouth on her, she’d lose rational thought.

  He dragged his heated gaze down her body, focusing on her lower belly. His nostrils flared. “Don’t leave the room. I don’t want Reno to see you like this. He’s not as honorable as I am, and it’ll only take seconds to steal what rightfully belongs to me.”

  Her virginity. That was what Xander referred to. He didn’t want Reno to claim what Xander had won. Although primitive, his response gave her the answer to her problem.

  She gave a sharp nod and hurried into the bedroom before the guilt twisting her up changed her scent. Xander didn’t need to know how she was about to turn his honor against him.

  A roaring blaze filled the hearth. Two glasses of wine and a platter of food sat on the table near the fireplace. And the covers on the bed had been turned down. Xander swept his gaze over the room. Compared to his new home in West Virginia, it was dingy, but the dimness and warmth of the fire stirred memories of a time he wished he could forget as much as he’d cherished experiencing.

  For over a decade, Elizabeth had shared his bed and his life. They’d loved together, laughed together, slept together, yet she hadn’t known his secret. He’d been careful not to allow any signs of his primal nature to slip free. The day he had, she’d died.

  The regret stained his soul. He should’ve walked away from her. Allowed her to love a human. Live the life she never would’ve found in the pack. He hadn’t. He’d moved her into a home, far from her family and his, and married her.

  The vow he’d taken—to love, cherish, and honor her—had been a lie. She’d called him on it too. She’d been right.

  He hadn’t done any better with Tabitha. The single night they’d shared had been enough to damn her. Vlad had interrupted them, exposing Xander’s secret. She’d fled his bed and run straight into the arms of danger. The human gang who’d kidnapped her had then gone on to sell her into slavery. She’d ended up in a medical center that experimented on shifters.

  Vlad and the human Shifter Affairs agents he’d teamed with had tracked her to that facility, but she died during the raid. While Vlad watched. He’d been too far away to save her.

  Xander had learned of the story secondhand. His childhood friend, the male with whom Xander had shared women, booze, and laughter for centuries, had walked away from the pack after Tabitha’s death. Too choked with guilt, Xander hadn’t demanded his return. Yet every day, Xander had hoped to see him again.

  He rolled his shoulders and strode to the window. Thoughts of the past distracted him from the danger of the present. Unacceptable. Gwen needed him.

  And he needed her.

  He’d grown darker in the years since Tabitha’s death, and his tolerance of others—humans and shifters, alike—had lessened. It had gotten to the point where he existed in a constant state of leashed aggression.

  Only around Gwen had his wolves’ growls and snarls shut off completely. Her scent, the softness of her skin, and her musical voice tamed his wildness, exactly as a true mate should. He didn’t want to give that up. Didn’t want to guide his pack into this new era where humans were always underfoot and the danger of discovery was real. Or wake up each morning to the sounds of fighting echoing in his head as his wolves’ aggression morphed into violence, a battle that took place inside his body.

  No, not anymore. He refused to accept the constant anger. Not after breathing in Gwen’s intoxicating scent and feeling the mental sigh of relief from his wolves. With Gwen by his side, he could finally live.

  Was that selfish?

  Hours ago, he would’ve said yes. Now, he wasn’t so sure. That episode with Reno changed things. She’d looked the depraved shifter—her captor—in the eye and demanded he answer her questions. And he had. Immediately. As if she were an alpha and Reno had no choice but to instinctually submit.

  Xander couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t been partially responsible for Gwen’s show of assertiveness. In his arms, her fear had diminished. He’d scented the change in her. The stench of terror had morphed to anger, allowing her to confront the male who’d conspired to sell her virginity.

  He wanted to believe she’d instinctually known he’d have her back.

  That was how it was supposed to be between true mates. They were meant to fit each other, emotionally and physically. Bringing out each other’s best.

  Yet, he hadn’t tried to complement either Elizabeth or Tabitha. He also hadn’t strived to uncover their hidden strengths. He’d used both incarnations of his true mate. The knowledge shamed him.

  With Gwen, things would be different. They’d be different. Love and respect would bind them, not selfishness.

  His goal strengthened him, lifting a weight off his shoulders. He stood taller. His goddess had given him another chance with his true mate to complement and support her as he was meant to do. He would not screw this up. First, though, he had to get her home safely.

  He surveyed the woods around the house. Nothing moved. Calmness had descended with the coming storm. Animals sensed the change in air pressure and scented the snow in the air. Both triggers prepared them for the coming harsh weather. Xander’s wolves felt the approaching storm too. It left them anxious, not for themselves, but for Gwen. As a human, she wasn’t equipped to deal with the extremities of nature.

  Xander shared their concern. There wasn’t much he could do about it. Reno had flown them deeper into the wilderness, dozens of miles from the nearest town. Xander couldn’t risk running with Gwen alone. Here, they were sheltered from the snowstorm. Out there, they’d be at the whim of nature.

  It’d be impossible to both protect Gwen and hold her close so he could warm her with his body. His shifter nature allowed him to increase his core temperature. He’d use that ability to benefit Gwen. Vlad and Dante would have to act as protectors.

  The knowledge irked him. Xander’s primitive nature demanded he be the only one to save Gwen. It had been the reason he’d entered the hunt without Vlad’s knowledge. Dante was supposed to have been Xander’s backup. Something must’ve delayed him, forcing him to alert Vlad to Xander’s participation in the hunt. That was the only way Vlad could’ve known Xander would be in those woods.

  The bathroom door opened, pulling him out of his thoughts. A rush of steam carrying Gwen’s scent swept into the bedroom. He inhaled, drawing the unique smell of his true mate into his lungs. A sense of coming home wrapped around him, soothing him, bringing him peace.

  Gods, he missed this feeling. Never again would he lose it or the female who allowed him to experience it.

  “Are we being monitored?”

  Gwen’s question drew his attention to her. She stood in the opening to the bathroom. The light from behind her cast a glow around her, giving her an angelic appearance. The sight of her nipples pushing against the thin cotton T-shirt ruined the image. So did the outline of her curves.

  The clothes he’d selected clung to her, enhancing her figure. Her lush, soft body was the kind males craved, the kind he hungered for. It didn’t take much to imagine her pressed against his hardness, cushioning his rough thrusts.


  His shaft stirred. He yanked his gaze to her face. “Not anymore. I destroyed the camera they’d hidden above the bed. We’re alone.”

  “Are you sure that was the only one?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Gwen stepped into the room, turning off the bathroom light and closing the door behind her. She scanned the space, her gaze skipping over the few pieces of furniture and settling on the platter of crackers and cheese. “Reno finally brought food? Is it safe?”

  “Yes.” He’d tasted it while waiting for her.

  She nodded and made her way to the table. Without looking at him, she picked up a glass of wine and drained the contents. She reached for the second wineglass.

  He grasped her wrist. “Careful. You don’t want to get drunk.”

  “Don’t I?”

  “No.” He cut a piece of cheese, placed it between two crackers, and brought the bite to her lips. “You need strength, not liquid courage.”

  She turned her head, ignoring his offering, and made a similar sandwich. The refusal of his gesture annoyed him until she held the one she’d made to his mouth. “No. I need you.”

  The look of desire slipping into her brown eyes and the huskiness of her words suggested how—sexually.

  Xander stared at Gwen for a long moment. Hadn’t he made it clear they wouldn’t be having sex? He’d thought so. It’d been clear to him, anyway.

  He shook his head. “Gwen, I—”

  She slipped the bite into his mouth, stopping his words. He ate the snack, swallowing the stale cracker and dried cheese. He couldn’t refuse her.

  Before he could speak, she stood on her tiptoes and hesitantly licked his lower lip. Shyness radiated from her, yet the simple stroke of her tongue tensed his body, leaving him eager for more. He wanted to be the one Gwen explored passion with. Never wanted anything more.

  Too bad he couldn’t.

  He stepped back. “If you’re trying to seduce me, stop. Sleeping with you is not the reason I’m here.” Even if the prospect of doing so left him half-crazed with need.

  Gwen set the crackers and cheese on the plate, grabbed the full glass of wine, and walked toward the window. “Be straight with me, then. Why are you here? Because I can’t figure it out. You’re giving me mixed signals, and I just want to survive the night. If that takes having sex with you, I’ll do so.”

  Another demand. Her attitude pleased him. So did her courage. He didn’t want her to fear speaking her mind in his presence. At least in private. Among the pack, the rules changed. “I’m here to rescue you.”

  “And Vader’s helping.”

  That name was a slap in the face to every member of the Winchester pack, but most of all to Xander. Vlad knew how it irritated him. He also knew Xander wouldn’t demand Vlad acknowledge his pack name. Doing so might’ve brought their strained friendship to an end. Xander hadn’t wanted to risk that. Winchesters never gave up on each other, no matter their differences.

  By tolerating Vlad’s new name and his distance from the pack, Xander had, however. Doing so had been a mistake, one that had to be corrected.

  “Yes. He’ll be here in a few hours, but you must know his name is Vlad, not Vader. That nickname your stepfather gave him means nothing to me or our pack. He is Vlad. Has always been Vlad. Will always be Vlad. Nothing else.” His voice hardened. In this moment, he hated himself for the willful ignorance. It had been a coward’s way out.

  She studied him. Her expression grew contemplative. Then she turned away and leaned against the window frame, resting her head against the wood. She took another sip of her drink. “That scene was an act? You’re actually friends?”

  “I’m his alpha.” Their friendship had been strained since the day Xander had stolen Elizabeth from Vlad.

  “Maybe to Vlad, but Vader’s a lone wolf. He doesn’t belong to a pack any longer.” She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his gaze and daring him to call her a liar.

  In this case, he had to. “Did he tell you that?”

  “Not to me exactly, but I was in the room when he said so.”

  Xander closed the distance between them and took the glass from her hand, setting it on the windowsill. “Vlad will always be a member of the Winchester pack. We don’t give up on our pack mates. Ever. Vlad’s distance from the pack is an allowance I made for his mental well-being.” Not to mention Xander’s own well-being.

  “He never talked about you or his pack.” Gwen studied him as keenly as she had moments ago. “Why?”

  “We had a falling-out.”

  “Over?”

  There it was again—the demand he answer her. Xander grinned. “A woman.”

  A small smile graced her lips, and her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Why am I not surprised? Vader…I mean…Vlad can’t get enough of women.”

  “As do I, but shifters will only fight over females they love. All others can be shared, as Vlad and I had done many times.”

  Her expression closed off. She snatched the wine from where he’d set it on the windowsill and crossed the room to the fireplace. With her back to him, she took a sip from the glass. “Love isn’t the only thing that’ll trigger a shifter’s instincts. Ownership and obligation will do the same.”

  “True.” He closed the distance between them a second time but didn’t take the wine from her again. She was talking. He didn’t want to lose the insight her words gave. “Possessiveness is a dangerous and powerful emotion for shifters.”

  “And it’s why he’s here.” She glanced at the floor. “I’m his beloved human.”

  “That’s not his only driver.” Twice before, Vlad had claimed to share the same true mate as Xander—first Elizabeth, then Tabitha. In those lifetimes, he and Vlad had fought, thinking it impossible. Shifters couldn’t share their mates. At least Xander had thought they couldn’t, until the single shifter alpha of the Jager pack, their neighbors in West Virginia, claimed two mates.

  Now, Xander couldn’t help wondering if he and Vlad had shared the same true mate all along. Two things stopped him from accepting that as truth, however. Xander didn’t desire Vlad, and Vlad didn’t desire Gwen. If Vlad had, he would’ve slept with her years ago. He’d had plenty of opportunities. Instead, he’d contemplated mating Lena, Gwen’s older sister.

  “Care to explain that?” Gwen asked.

  Not until Xander figured out what connection—if any—the three of them shared. “Vlad also feels guilty. So do I. We chased after you and Molly, but neither of us expected to find you alive.” He settled his hands on her hips and drew her closer, needing the reminder she was safe. “We gave up on you before knowing the facts.”

  “You were right to give up on me. I failed Molly. She shifted. I told her to.” Gwen turned her head, hiding the tears choking her voice, and set her glass on the table. “Doing so destroyed her. Ripped her soul to shreds. She wasn’t supposed to shift. That’s what the bear shifters said, but I didn’t know. Nobody told me. They withheld the truth from me. Vlad, Lena, my stepdad… All of them kept me in the dark.”

  “Gwen.” He tipped up her chin. Tears left a sheen of moisture in her brown eyes, but none fell. “You didn’t fail her. You saved her life.”

  “How? I was told she’d have to be put down, like an animal. If she even lived that long.”

  The anguish in her voice choked him. For months, she’d lived with this pain, with the mistaken belief that she’d hurt her adopted sister by urging Molly to shift. He wrapped his arms around Gwen, holding her flush to his chest, and pressed his lips to her ear. “You put the Leon spirit in a position where it had to make a choice. It picked Molly and merged completely with her.”

  Gwen gasped. “Does that mean…?”

  “Yes. Molly is the leader of the Leon pride.”

  Gwen squeezed him tight. Happiness radiated from her. “A pride of one.”

  “Not for long. Once she matures and word gets out, she’ll be…” Harassed by single shifter males who want to father her children, or pressured by the Shifte
r Council to pass the spirit to a male shifter. Although possible, the willing transfer rarely happened, except in cases where a father conceded the position to his son.

  “She’ll be popular.” Gwen sighed, obviously picking up on his unspoken conclusion.

  “Yes, but Lena and the Alexander pride won’t stand for it. Molly will be protected.” Molly also had Josh, the human alpha of his own unusual pride and the guardian of Megan, Molly’s twin. Of course, the Winchester pack would protect Molly too. They’d grown attached to the child.

  “Thank you for telling me this, Xander.”

  “I’ll do more than that. I’ll take you to her.” It’d be easier to explain Molly’s predicament in person. There was no sense upsetting Gwen with the knowledge that even though Molly was physically safe, her mental health was a different story. Every day she remained in her lioness form threatened to unravel it and turn the little girl feral.

  “What if I don’t want to go?”

  The question sparked his unease. He turned his head, meeting her gaze. A careful mask hid her emotions. She watched him impassively, as if waiting to judge him or for him to judge her. “Why wouldn’t you want to go?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “And those would—”

  Gwen slid her hand past the waistband of his sweats and rested her fingers over his bare backside, stopping his words.

  She leaned closer, her warm breath on his chest and the damp strands of her hair teasing his skin. “Will you force me to go?”

  His earlier thought came back to him—something wasn’t quite right about his virgin mate’s motives. He studied her but couldn’t decide why.

  “Well, Xander?” Gwen cocked her brow in a gesture he was starting to love. “Will you force me to go home?”

  He pulled her hand from inside his pants and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaving her standing by the fireplace. Distance from his true mate who seemed intent on triggering his instincts was a necessity.