by Anya Nowlan
As Dayton’s uncle wasn’t above playing dirty – if there had been any lingering doubts about that – Rachel was forced to close her store until things settled down. She wasn’t going to put Alice or any of her customers in harm’s way. The next guy David sent after her could have even less morals than Cody.
And I can’t exactly tend to shoppers with a shotgun strapped across my back.
She packed some essentials and drove her beat-up truck to Dayton’s house. Sam was in the passenger seat, making sure she got there alright. Rachel felt it was overkill to have protection for a twenty-minute drive but didn’t feel like arguing with Dayton. He was slightly on edge about the whole thing, and the slightest hint of a threat at her safety made him snarl.
It was sexy, in a sort of overbearingly overprotective way. Rachel was willing to give him a pass on it for now, at least until things calmed down a little.
After Cody’s little appearance at her store, the number of wolves showing up at Dayton’s doorstep and pledging allegiance had surprisingly increased, bringing the current count to twelve.
They came and went at all hours, talking in hushed voices to both each other and Dayton, who had made it a priority to get to know all of them. He didn’t want blind loyalty – he wanted mutual trust and respect.
Rachel’s heart swelled with pride.
Sam kept turning up the radio and singing along, pulling her out of her musings.
“Did you volunteer for this little mission just so you could practice for karaoke night?” she asked drolly.
Sam’s hand flew to his heart.
“I volunteered because I love the pleasure of your company,” he said, his eyes widening innocently.
“Riiight,” Rachel drew out.
Sam launched into a stunning rendition of Meghan Trainor’s “Me Too” a moment later. She had to admit he at least managed to make it sound better than Meghan did.
Rachel found herself drifting back into her thoughts. She kept asking herself if she was moving too fast with Dayton, giving into the possibility of happiness too easily. Whichever way she looked at it, she kept coming back with a firm “no” as the only correct answer.
Sure, things were moving fast, but they also felt right. That “magic” she’d been missing with the men she’d dated before was present and accounted for with Dayton. He made her feel alive and like whatever she wanted could come true. With him, she felt like there could really be a future.
So what if I’m jumping in with both feet. Being careful hasn’t gotten me anything so far.
They reached the house without incident. David was probably still coming up with plan B. He thought he had all the time in the world to deal with Dayton as the monthly pack meeting where his nephew could officially challenge him for Alpha was weeks away.
You’re in for a surprise, Rachel thought, smirking.
Dayton came out to greet her, taking her bags. There were only a couple of wolves roaming around; they avoided being there at the same time, not wanting to give their numbers away in case someone was watching. Though if she had to guess, she’d assume Dayton had also told them to at least try to give them a bit of privacy.
Rachel noticed a brown streak running through the tree line. Probably one of Dayton’s new friends, sniffing out the perimeter.
To think a week ago I twitched at the sight of a wolf, and now it’s weird if there aren’t a bunch of them around me at all times. And one in particular, of course.
She settled into the master bedroom to unpack while Dayton quietly handed out instructions. Soon, the house was empty except for her and Dayton. Rachel had a feeling the woods surrounding the building were definitely not empty though. No one was sneaking up on them tonight.
She had brought some supplies with her – perks of having your own store. Busying herself, she cooked dinner as Dayton was occupied with talking to someone on the phone. He seemed apologetic and slightly wistful. Rachel was already setting the table when he snuck up and hugged her from behind.
“What was that about?” Rachel asked, concerned.
“I was calling the tattoo parlor to let them know I won’t be coming back,” he said, and she could hear the sigh in his voice.
She had been so happy he was staying that she hadn’t stopped to consider exactly what he was giving up. He was an artist, and there weren’t many opportunities for that kind of work in Sweetwater.
“I’m sorry, that couldn’t have been easy. You’ll probably miss your work terribly.”
A frown crossed her features, worry bubbling in her chest. While Dayton being in Sweetwater was the best thing she could have imagined for herself, the last thing she wanted was for him to regret his choices.
“It wasn’t easy. But I’ve realized this is where I belong. Here, with you, I am home,” he said, his hands snaking across her stomach. “Besides, shifters seem like the kind of guys who like tattoos, right?” he added jokingly. “Spirits know we have plenty of them around here.”
They sat down and ate their food before settling in on the couch in the lounge.
“Can I see them? Your tattoos?” Rachel asked, filled with the urge to commit every picture on his skin to memory.
He was hers now, every inch open to exploration. The thought thrilled her.
“Of course,” Dayton said, shrugging off his shirt. “I thought I’d already given you a proper viewing party the other night.”
The last bit was delivered with a wink, but Rachel’s mouth was too dry to come up with anything witty in response.
His muscles rippled with movement as he got down on the couch, making Rachel bite her lip appreciatively. She knelt beside the couch, gesturing that he should turn over on his stomach. She ran her fingers over the wide planes of his back, studying every little detail.
Having done some research on the subject – seeing as her new boyfriend was a tattoo artist – Rachel felt confident the style fell into the Neo Traditional category. The outlines were bold, the shading expertly done, the colors vibrant.
In the middle of the patchwork of designs was a stag, majestic and powerful, drinking from a clear blue pond below a star-studded sky. A dark, shadowy forest illuminated by moonlight hid a large wolf, stalking the buck. An owl swept a wing over the whole scene. The artistry was amazing.
Rachel guided Dayton to turn on his back, still wordless with awe.
His chest was covered in more abstract work, reminding her slightly of overlaid flower petals. The colors veered to the dark side with deep greens and blues. Above his real heart was a geometric one, black lines creating a picture fit for biology textbooks.
When she traced it with her fingertips, she noticed Dayton’s breath hitch.
She had been so engrossed in the artwork that she had forgotten the man beneath the ink. Looking up at him, she saw his eyes were hazy and his lips slightly parted. Leaning in, Rachel started slowly kissing down his chest, following the outlines of his tattoos and moving towards his stomach.
Her fingers went to work unbuttoning his jeans. Dayton sucked in a breath, the sound making heat pool in the pit of her stomach. A dark gleam appeared in Rachel’s eye as her tongue snaked out, licking the lines of his chiseled abs. A guttural sound escaped Dayton’s throat, making her shiver.
Hours later, their sweaty bodies finally detangled, they found themselves on the floor, clothes scattered all over the room in the most unlikely places. Rachel sighed in exhaustion and satisfaction; Dayton was slightly out of breath beside her.
“That was fun,” she said, throwing her damp hair over her shoulder.
“And they say Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth,” Dayton retorted with a crooked smile.
“I think you ripped my panties in half,” Rachel mused, frowning at the scrap of lace strewn on one of the floor lamps.
She got up to wrap herself in a nearby blanket, hoping the wolves stalking the perimeter were far enough not to have heard their little sexcapade.
As soon as she was done with the thought, a
frantic knock on the back door made her jump.
Dayton grabbed his jeans from under the couch and slipped them on, not bothering with underwear. Even though Rachel was clad in nothing more than a blanket and Dayton’s sweat, she still tried to keep whatever modesty she had left and rushed to stuff the bra she found attached to the ceiling fan under a couch cushion.
Dayton opened the door, and two shifters fell in, shouldering a third man between them. Rachel’s hand flew over her mouth. The man’s face was little more than a bloody pulp; she could barely make out any features. His feet dragged across the floor as the two others lowered him onto the couch.
“What happened?” Dayton demanded as tears sprung to her eyes.
“He was out patrolling the west perimeter. He was gone for a while, so finally we went looking for him. This was attached to his chest,” one of the men said, handing Dayton a blood-spattered piece of paper.
The man arched a quick brow at Rachel’s attire but didn’t dare comment.
Rachel peered over Dayton’s shoulder as he read the note.
How many will suffer? Leave.
That was all it said.
The man on the couch groaned, and Rachel rushed to his side even though there was precious little she could do. Fortunately, shifters healed faster than humans, and the process was sped along in the presence of others of their kind.
As she studied the man, running her eyes over his clothes and hair, a horrifying recognition flooded her mind.
“Sam?” she asked as tears came streaming down her cheeks.
Fourteen
Dayton
“No, there are enough people here already,” Dayton barked into his phone.
News of Sam’s condition had spread, and everyone wanted to help. There were already five shifters crowded around the couch where the young man lay. Any more would just be excessive. Sam needed rest and a calm environment to heal.
Besides, that’s what David wanted, everyone rushing over. He would have an instant overview of who had gone over to Dayton’s side.
Why else would he choose to attack one of the youngest and most well-liked pack members? He could have gone after anyone; there were certainly wolves patrolling at the same time as Sam who had more insight into David’s operation, who were more of a threat.
Dayton’s gums itched, fangs waiting to explode as he looked at Sam. The bones in his face were starting to mend, and Rachel had cleaned up most of the blood. He was starting to look like himself again.
Rachel was pacing the room, clad in actual clothes now, her eyes rimmed red.
He wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms, but the calls kept coming. Dayton had to keep talking people out of rushing over to David’s house and ripping his throat out – not an easy task when that was exactly what he wanted to do himself. But losing his senses would only play into David’s hands.
Finally, after Dayton got all of his supporters on the same page, he went and pulled Rachel into a long embrace. She clung to him, her tears seeping through the front of his shirt as she let go of the barely kept façade of calm.
“I have never cried from anger before,” she whispered.
“You’re exhausted, let’s go to bed,” Dayton replied, holding her at arm’s length and studying her face.
Rachel cast a worried glance toward the couch.
“He’s going to be fine, I promise. Now get some sleep, I’ll be right behind you after I gather up as many mattresses as I can for these guys.”
Dayton glanced at the men at Sam’s bedside. He was going to be safe with guards like them.
Rachel gave him a brittle smile.
“Okay.”
One of the men adjusted a pillow under Sam’s head and frowned. Slowly, he pulled out Rachel’s pink lacy bra and held it up for all to see, looking puzzled.
“However did that get there?” Rachel said, turning red before snatching the thing up with near shifter speed and running to the bedroom.
Stifling his smile was almost impossible for Dayton.
He got the guys settled before heading to the kitchen and pouring himself a stiff drink. His whole plan was built on having as little casualties as possible when challenging David. But now, his uncle had gone on the offensive.
Should he change tactics, start recruiting more heavily, or go for a full on assault?
He drained his glass and shook his head. No, his original plan was solid.
It’s going to work, he told himself. It has to, there are too many people counting on me for it to fail.
Rachel was still awake when he entered the bedroom. He crawled into bed next to her, nuzzling her neck. She smelled like wildflowers, and he breathed in the scent, instantly feeling calmer.
“We need to talk,” she said softly, running her hands through his hair.
I’ve seen enough movies to know that’s never good, Dayton thought with a frown, hiking himself up on one elbow.
“I’m tired of being useless, having to be protected. I can help, I know it.”
Her voice was clear and determined. Dayton arched a brow, his wolf already growling in protest.
“I will not risk you getting hurt,” he answered sternly.
“You can’t make decisions for me. That’s not how this works. If I’m your mate, that makes me part of this pack. I can’t sit around while everyone else risks their life. I can’t get Sam’s face out of my head.
“If I can help make it so none of our friends ever have to go through something like that again, then that’s what I’m going to do. Would you really want to be with a woman who felt any other way?” she continued, a stubborn gleam in her eyes.
Dayton opened his mouth only to snap it shut.
Shit, she has a point.
“Let’s say I go along with this. What exactly do you have in mind?”
* * *
Rachel stomped towards her store, her hands balled into fists. Dayton ran after her, grabbing her elbow.
“Let go, you… asshole!”
Her eyes widened slightly when the insult left her lips.
“Rachel, come on, we can talk about this…”
“I don’t want to hear it! I knew getting involved with a Clearpond would bring me nothing but trouble!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
Dayton could sense people around them stopping to stare.
“Can we just discuss this somewhere less public, please?”
“There’s nothing to discuss! I was attacked in my own store! I’m afraid to go home! You’ve ruined my life!” she screamed, slapping him across the cheek.
“You crazy bitch! You can’t just walk away from me!” Dayton bellowed, grabbing hold of her hands.
Rachel pulled away violently.
“I can do what I want! You’re a jerk and… and you suck in bed!” she said, looking apologetic for a second before the anger reappeared on her face.
Dayton suppressed a smile. Good thing he’d gotten enough practice in that lately.
“This isn’t over! You better lock your doors tonight!” he threatened, adding some finger-pointing to really sell the performance.
Rachel huffily turned on her heel and disappeared into the building. Dayton looked around, hoping he seemed adequately embarrassed and mad. People were openly gaping.
Good.
He hopped on his bike and raced away, dropping it off at his house before shifting and running back into town using back roads. He snuck up to the general store’s back door where Rachel was already waiting to let him in. She had the blinds drawn and a “closed” sign hung on the door.
“You think they bought it?” she asked breathily.
“Oh, I’m sure half the town thinks I’m incompetent when it comes to pleasing women now,” he said with an amused curl to his lips.
Rachel flushed.
“I’m bad at improvising, okay?” she mumbled, blushing a little.
“Don’t worry, making you scream in ecstasy will give me a nice ego-boost after all this is over,” he grinned a
nd pulled Rachel into a rough kiss, his fingers curling in her honey hair.
She melted against him, momentarily making him forget about his crippling fear for her safety.
“I can do this,” she assured him before picking up her phone as if sensing his worry. “Now, what’s David’s number again?” she asked.
Fifteen
Rachel
Rachel gulped as she dialed David’s number.
“Hello?” his gravelly voice came over the line.
“This is Rachel. Can we talk?” she asked, hoping her voice sounded angry instead of scared.
“Rachel, what an unexpected pleasure. Why don’t you come over, and we can have a nice little chat,” he sneered, sounding about as earnest as a prisoner at a parole meeting.
“Yeah, sure, why don’t I rip out my own throat for you too? Meet me at Maisy’s in an hour. I have some information you’ll find useful,” she snorted before hanging up. “How was that?” she asked, turning to Dayton.
“Done like a pro,” he answered, kissing her forehead.
* * *
Rachel sat at a booth half an hour later, tapping her fingers on the table and keeping her eyes on the door. They had planned on having the meeting long enough after their public spat that David had undoubtedly already heard about it. Now all that was left to do was hope he took the bait.
David walked in right on time and spotted Rachel immediately. She conjured up her best “angry ex-girlfriend” expression. Somehow, she managed not to flinch when he plopped down on the seat opposite her.
“You have something for me?” he asked impatiently.
“I know where Dayton plots his attack against you. There’s a place he likes to go alone. I’m the only one he’s taken there,” she said, forcing her hands still.
“And why would you give me this information?” David queried, rightfully suspicious.
“I want my life back. I give you this information, and you promise to leave me alone and make sure he leaves me alone too.”
The idea of betraying Dayton nauseated her, and she had to put some effort into keeping her expression from twisting.