by Casey Lane
“Then I found Neoma, and suddenly my mother had another baby to dote on. Like I said last night, Dylan and I were both suspicious of Cain’s motives, but as time passed and nothing happened, I convinced myself that he only let my mother keep Neoma out of some misguided attempt to atone for his sins and not for any selfish reason. Maybe, I was just trying to make myself feel better.”
“What do you mean?”
“Neoma bonded to me instantly, she chose me to take care of her but I couldn’t. I was barely eighteen; I couldn’t take care of her on my own. Besides, I still had four and a half years left to serve of my five-year contract with the Army. I had to go back to base eventually.”
“That was hardly anything you could help. Besides, it sounds like she was well taken care of.”
That wasn’t true at all, but Wren didn’t say that out loud. “At first it was easy. I would come home on leave; I would call her every chance I got—even before she learned to talk—so that she could hear my voice. But then I was deployed overseas. First, to Kandahar, then Kabul…we were in the middle of a war, there wasn’t a lot of time to make phone calls. Besides, the reception in Afghanistan is surprisingly shoddy.”
Isa smiled. “I bet.”
“Still, I called when I could, came home when I could, and every time I returned, my mother made me promise that I wouldn’t re-enlist once my tour was up. She said she needed at least one of her sons’ home to help with the business. Dylan had disappeared again, chasing yet another girl. My mother was beside herself, but my father just laughed it off, said Dylan needed to get it out of his system.” Wren shook his head. Sharing his family's secrets with another person was weird.
“I’d pretty much made peace with the idea of going home. I was looking forward to seeing my sisters and Neoma. But just before I came back, Magna died, and everything deteriorated. My father was always a tyrant, but by the time I got back, he was practically certifiable. Delusional. Paranoid. Convinced there was some conspiracy afoot to steal his pack and ruin his life. My brother conveniently resurfaced, just a week after I did and he was in bad shape. Strung out on drugs. Nasty. Belligerent. When he got arrested for drunk driving, my mother decided to leave him in jail and didn’t tell my father.”
“Good for her,” Isa murmured.
Wren nodded. “When my father found out a week later, he was furious. It turns out, I’d left one war zone just to return to another. For three weeks, I listened to my parents fighting about Dylan, fighting about what to do with Ezri. I listened to my sisters fighting about everything and nothing. When Dylan came home, he seemed to get off on stirring the pot, instigating fights as often as possible. The only one who seemed truly happy was Neoma. She’d flourished while I was gone. She was sweet, kind and well spoken. Nothing appeared to faze her. She’d been just fine without me. So, when they called and offered me one last tour...I took it. My family was imploding and I just…ran away, and Neoma paid the price.”
He risked another glance at her, not sure what he’d see when she looked at him. What kind of wolf runs when his pack is in trouble? But Isa didn’t look disgusted, just concerned, wrinkles forming between her brows. “How?”
He slammed his hand on the counter, startling Isa. “That’s what I’m trying to piece together. Somebody’s been hurting her. Badly. She can’t see it because they’ve glamoured her, and she doesn’t remember it because of a spell Ezri screwed up, but I saw the scars, the physical damage they did to her. What kind of monster does that to a child?”
Chapter Nineteen
Isa
The timer’s oven beeped, startling Isa and pulling Wren from his story. Isa turned off the timer and removed her trays of cookies from the oven, before placing the next batch in and resetting the timer. As she set the cookies on the cooling racks, she mulled over what he’d told her. “Who do you think hurt her?”
“I wasn’t sure until last night. Right before I came into your room, I had a nightmare.”
Isa frowned, confused. “Okay?”
“I don’t dream. Ever. I never have.”
Isa digested that piece of information. “If it wasn’t a dream, what was it?”
“A memory. Neoma’s memory. It was just a flash, really. The storm woke me before I saw much but Dylan and some woman were driving Neoma around in an old truck, and she had claw marks on her leg.”
Isa stared at Wren, horrified. “Why would he do that?”
Wren shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Suddenly, Isa recalled something Alex had said the night they went on patrol. “Did you know that the witch community thinks your father deals in black-market occult supplies?”
Wren’s head jerked up. “What?”
Isa’s chest loosened at Wren’s shock. He hadn’t known. That made her feel both better and worse somehow. “According to my ‘source’” she air-quoted. “Your father deals in body parts and your brother was a one-time blood junkie.”
“Blood junkie? What kind of blood? What would a wolf want with blood?”
Isa had a theory, but it was just that. “Could your father have wanted Neoma for her blood?”
“Neoma isn’t the only elemental in existence. It’s not worth much on the black-market. There are too many elementals willing to open a vein for money. That’s simple supply and demand. If my father were selling to witches, it would have to be something rare enough to make it worth the risk. We know how the Grove feels about wolves meddling in witch business.”
Isa nodded. “About the same way wolves feel about witches meddling in pack business.” After a moment, she asked, “Who told you that Neoma was an elemental?”
Wren frowned. “My mom. She said they’d had her examined by Magna and that she confirmed she was an elemental.”
Isa couldn’t stop thinking about the way Allister looked at Neoma or the feeling of electricity when Neoma took her hand. An elementals powers were finite. Limited. They could commune with nature; they had an affinity for growing plants and vegetables. They could imbue magic into herbs and plants. Even the most powerful elemental’s magic wasn’t considered noteworthy, just their blood. What she’d felt from Neoma…it felt like a small glimpse at a much bigger magic.
“You think there’s more to this, don’t you? You think my family’s been lying about Neoma from the start,” Wren said, worry furrowing his brow.
Isa’s eyes shimmered gold in response to his distress. “You do, too.”
Wren scrubbed his hands over his face. “I never should have left her with them.”
She was moving without thought, turning his chair and wrapping her arms around him. Her need to comfort him was like a living thing inside her. But touching him was a mistake. The scent of his sadness was overpowering, flooding her brain, and making her forget everything but the need to be closer. His hands caught her beneath her thighs, lifting her into his lap, his lips finding hers.
She didn’t fight it; she let him take the lead, mouth opening beneath his as he deepened the kiss. He tasted like coffee and smelled like salt and sweat and something that was entirely just him. She locked her hands in his hair, dragging his head to the side to bite at the stubble on his chin and along his jaw, licking at the spot above his pulse until she could almost taste the blood pounding below. His throat was quickly becoming one of her favorite body parts.
Wren growled, hands sliding higher, dragging her closer, pushing himself between her thighs in a way that had them both moaning. She rocked against him, pleasure coursing through her as she chased this new sensation. His hand skimmed underneath her shirt, his calloused thumb trailing over the sensitive skin just under her breast. It wasn’t enough. She needed more.
Isa sank human teeth into the flesh on his shoulder. Wren groaned. “You’re a biter,” he muttered, almost to himself.
She sat up, nipping at his lower lip before sucking it into her mouth. “You complaining?”
“Hell, no.”
“You could bite me back,” she murmured.
&n
bsp; His gaze had weight, eyes greedy as he looked at her bare shoulder. “Oh, yeah? Where do you want me to bite you?”
Everywhere, Isa thought. She wanted to feel his teeth sinking into her flesh in a way that had some deep, dark part of her brain screaming danger. Mating for life required a bite, a claiming. The idea of Wren claiming her as his for life had her practically panting in his lap as she ground herself against the length of him. She licked her lower lip, tilting her head, dragging a finger along the shell of her ear. “Here.”
Wren huffed out a breath, complying without question, teeth nipping at her earlobe before he nosed behind her ear. Isa’s head was swimming. They needed to stop this, but it was hard to hold that thought in her head with Wren’s breath against her ear his hips rolling against her and her skin on fire from his touch.
“Where else?” he asked, voice wrecked.
She pointed at her throat before letting her hand trail lower, across the curve of one breast. “Here.”
Wren’s gaze followed her finger, hooking his thumb into the strap on her tank top, tugging it down until she was completely exposed to him. He looked up at her for only a moment, then he was dipping his head, his mouth following the line her finger had traveled, before closing over the tight peak of her nipple, biting hard enough for her to cry out, before soothing it with his tongue. Her hands tightened in his hair as he turned his attention to her other breast, giving it the same treatment.
“Wren, please,” she whispered, not even sure what she was asking for.
A loud beeping noise had Isa jerking away from him, heart slamming in her chest as she fixed her tank top, looking around guiltily. Wren’s hands were the only thing that kept her from tumbling backward off his lap. “Damn that stupid timer,” she growled before she could comprehend what they were doing and where they were doing it. “Oh God,” she groaned, as reality flooded back in. “The kids are upstairs. Shit. Shit. Shit. I…I need to get those.”
Wren set her down without protest, and she walked on wobbly legs to shut off the timer and take the next batch of cookies out. Dear Lord, having him in this house was dangerous. “It’s the full moon,” Isa said. “It’s just the full moon. It’s making us crazy.”
Wren crossed the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her from behind, sounding faintly amused as he said, “The full moon isn’t for days. It’s okay to admit you just can’t keep your hands off me.” He leaned down, kissing the nape of her neck, grunting when she elbowed him in the stomach. “Or not,” he mused.
“I need some space. I can’t think when you’re this close.”
He stepped back, watching as she moved about the kitchen transferring her cookies from the racks to the plates and started the process over again with the raw dough. “Run with me tomorrow night, Isa. I wanna meet your wolf.”
Isa fumbled the spoon, dropping into the stainless-steel bowl. She made a sort of helpless flailing gesture as if he’d asked to see her panties. For some reason that seemed less intimate to her, less dangerous. When the wolf was in control, Isa took a backseat; she gave over to her instincts on every level. She’d never been that free with anybody except her family. Even as an alpha there was a vulnerability there and being that open with Wren scared her. But she found herself nodding anyway. “O-okay. I usually take Rhys with me, but maybe he’d be okay sitting this one out. He’s been out of sorts lately.”
Wren shook his head. “No, let’s bring him with us. He already feels too disconnected from you.”
Isa’s head snapped up. “What? Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to. It’s clear he has no anchor. Nothing tethering him to this pack. His wolf is restless. He’s in distress from the moment he wakes until the second he falls asleep.”
Frustration burned in Isa’s stomach as she thought of her brother. She didn’t need Wren to tell her Rhys was struggling. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t see how hard he tries? Don’t tell me how my brother feels. How do you even know that? You’ve known him—what?—three days?”
“I know because I was him,” Wren said. “I remember what that feels like.”
“Rhys will be okay,” Isa said warily, guilt gnawing at her. She was doing the best she could with him. She was. She just didn’t know how to reach him.
“No, he won’t. He’s gonna run, Isa. He doesn’t feel he has a place in this pack. He doesn’t believe that you see him as having value. He was born to be your left hand, to be an extension of you. He needs to see that he’s not only a part of this family but a vital part of the pack. His wolf craves it, and it’s tormenting the kid.”
Isa slammed the bowl into the sink with a clatter, eyes bleeding red as she stared him down. “Don’t tell me what my pack or my brother needs. I know what I’m doing.”
Wren didn’t flinch at her outburst. His gaze never wavered. “You can’t force me to submit, Isa. I’m not your beta; I’m your mate. I’ll never question you publicly. I’ll stand beside whatever decision you choose, but I will always tell you the truth whether you like it or not. Your pack is broken, and you need help to fix it. You need me. You have incredible instincts. You are strong and fierce and passionate, but you can’t do this alone. Let me help you. Before your brother pays the price.” Isa’s insides twisted at his words, claws extended and heart pounding in her chest. Who did he think he was? Who did any of them think they were? She was so tired of being told how she was failing on every level. Did they think she didn’t see that? “Isa, push past your anger for a minute and just think about the truth in my words.”
She closed her eyes, breathing in and out, attempting to sooth her wolf as much as herself. Wren moved closer, frowning down at her. Before she realized his intentions, he was depositing her on the counter top. “That’s better,” he muttered, before wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face to her neck.
She hesitated for only a moment before hugging him back, her eyes floating closed as he held her. The sound of his heartbeat lulled her. When he pulled back, he gave her a half smile. “At the risk of setting you off again, care to tell me what happened at work that had Neoma railing against the patri-carchy?”
Isa sighed, their conversation coming full circle. Isa pushed him away enough to see his face. “I got a visit from the head of the witches’ council. Quinn’s dad, Allister. He heard you were here in town, came to tell me he wanted you gone by sunup like we were in some kind of spaghetti western.”
Wren frowned. “Wanted?”
She nodded slowly, unease creeping along her spine. “Until he saw Neoma.”
Wren’s body went rigid beneath her fingers. “What?”
She nodded. “As soon as he saw Neoma, he changed his mind.”
“That’s why you think Neoma might not be an elemental?”
“This is Belle Haven; we’ve got lots of rarities here. An elemental wouldn’t have ruffled Allister’s feathers like that.”
“Do you think Allister will contact my father?”
Her chest tightened at the thought of Wren’s father coming to town, but she shook her head. “Unlikely. Allister made it very clear that I was not to honor my betrothal to you because he didn’t want a man like your father having a say in Belle Haven pack business. He offered to find me a nice docile omega to breed me.”
Wren’s reaction was instantaneous, features morphing until he was all teeth and ice blue eyes, his voice a growl. “You’re mine. Just mine. Nobody will be breeding you but me.”
Isa went lightheaded at the ferocity of his words, never mind the picture behind their meaning. She lifted her hands, petting her thumbs across the furrowed ridge of his partially shifted brows. “Shh, don’t be such a cave wolf. Nobody is”—she blushed— “breeding me without my permission. God, I hate that term. Makes me feel like livestock. Besides, there are enough kids running around this place for now.”
Wren closed his eyes, dropping his head to her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice still rough but more human.
<
br /> Isa couldn’t help the question that spilled from her lips. “What made you think to come to me for help?”
“I didn’t. Not at first. I was just going to run. I went to an Appalachian witch for a cloaking spell, and while I was there, she said a spirit told her I needed to go to Belle Haven.”
Isa looked at him like he was crazy. “You fled with Neoma and landed on my doorstep all because some mountain witch told you a ghost thought you needed to come to Belle Haven?”
“Well, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like that,” Wren said, giving her a half smile. “But as soon as she said Belle Haven, I remembered you.”
Isa’s look went from confused to disgruntled. “You remembered me? As in, remembered I existed?”
Wren huffed out an amused noise. “Oh, you don’t get to be offended, Isa McGowan. You didn’t even know who the hell I was and when I told you, you punched me in the face.”
Isa flushed, shoulders sagging. “True.”
“I figured if I could convince you to marry me then my father couldn’t say I challenged him. Our betrothal was never officially dissolved. No elder could side with him if I’m just honoring the engagement that’s been on the books since your birth. If he tried to take Neoma after we were mated, I figured I had your pack to fight with me.”
“That’s a smart plan...except for the part where my pack consists of four middle schoolers.”
“Yeah, that’s a problem. But there’s something more you should know. While we were with the witch—after she’d put the spell of protection on us—she said Neoma had a passenger, but before she could tell us more, something psychically attacked her.”
Isa stared at him in confusion. “You’re making less sense with every sentence, not more.”
“Well, buckle up, Buttercup, because it’s about to get weirder,” Wren promised. “Two nights ago, Neoma said Ezri came to her in her dream and gave her a message.”