by Celia Kyle
“I wasn’t sure…”
“I ran for a long time.”
“He…”
“I survived.”
“I should have…
“Because of you.” Ally squeezed her tighter and Rachel fell silent. “I survived because of you. He would have killed me, but I’m here because of you.” Ally pulled away, small hands cupping Rachel’s cheeks.
“I should have done more,” she whispered, still unable to believe her eyes.
A third voice joined theirs, a trembling, wrinkled hand touching them both. “That’s enough of apologies and ‘should haves’ from you two. No more tears.” The voice had a tremble but somehow managed to be strong at the same time. But it wasn’t just her voice. It was her very presence. A gentle push came with those words, a calming blanket that laid over them like a feather on the breeze. “Any minute now and Miss Rachel will have the alpha balling like a baby and heaven knows we can’t have him teary. Lucy would never let him live it down.”
Rachel’s tears dried up and she turned to the woman, the pure-white hair combined with the soothing of her emotions identified her before they even exchanged names. “You’re…”
“Mathilda, sweetheart.” The old woman patted Rachel’s cheek. “I’m only here to make sure your tears don’t make everyone sob into their burgers. I don’t like controlling emotions, but I do have to say it’s handy.” She grinned at Rachel and she couldn’t help but return the smile—a smile that widened when Mathilda leaned close and lowered her voice. “If your pup gets a little unruly, giving them a touch of happiness to end a tantrum is helpful.” Mathilda winked and stepped back. “It’s good for the big ones, too.” She tipped her head toward Gavin back at their table.
Rachel wiped away the tears beneath her eyes and smiled at the older woman. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
“You’ll do better out of pure stubbornness, but training helps. You come by the cabin once you get settled in and I’ll teach you what I know.” Mathilda grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You won’t be a victim anymore. You don’t need to be physically strong to protect yourself. You just need to concentrate, and you can make someone experience whatever feeling you desire. Heck,” Mathilda snorted, “you can turn them into playful pups if you want.”
Rachel grimaced and glanced at Ally. “That would have been helpful when…”
“Stop.” Ally shook her head. “You did more than anyone else in the pack. I’m standing here—pregnant and mated—because of what you did.”
That started a round of voices echoing through the barbecue.
“Did someone say pregnant?”
“Who’s pregnant?”
“We need to plan another party!”
“But who’s pregnant?” That voice seemed louder, and definitely deeper, than any of the others.
“Aw, more babies? Blech.” That voice she at least recognized as Charlie Tipton’s.
“Who’s pregnant?” The male who roared really did roar and Rachel watched Ally for any negative response to the shout. Instead of fearful, she only looked… annoyed.
Ally glanced at her. “Sorry about this, but mates…” she shrugged. “What are you gonna do?” Ally took a deep breath. “You’ve been trying to knock me up for weeks. Who do you think is pregnant?”
Ally’s wide smile was unmistakably filled with joy and contentment—two feelings Rachel was finding within herself.
Chapter Eleven
“Be sure the buckle clicks,” Rachel whispered as Gavin gently placed Eric in his booster seat.
Bless his heart, the little boy had played so hard that afternoon, he’d fallen asleep during the loyalty ceremony. Thankfully, pups his age weren’t expected to say the words, so there’d been no need to wake him. Gavin had carried him all the way back to Rachel’s SUV. Now she hovered behind them, watching to make sure he properly installed Eric in his seat. When Gavin leaned in and kissed the boy’s forehead, Rachel nearly burst into tears from the sweetness of the scene.
“Mind if I drive?” He closed the door with a thump and then opened the passenger door for her.
“How will you get home?”
He waggled one of his very long and lean legs. “It’s a nice night for a walk. I just want to make sure you both get back home safely. I’ll sleep better.”
Then don’t leave, she thought. Stay with us.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. After the excitement, uncertainty and overwhelming emotions of the day, she was exhausted—physically and emotionally. She needed a little more time to settle into the new situation, to let her emotions go haywire for a bit, and she didn’t want to subject Gavin to all of that.
Not yet.
“You did great tonight,” Gavin said, almost like he could read her mind.
She climbed into the passenger seat before passing him the keys. “Thanks.”
“I mean it. I know it’s hard for you to be around Mason right now, but you were so calm and collected. I’m really proud of you.”
He closed the door, which gave her a few precious seconds to bask in the glow of his compliment and also to let the blush that crept into her face fade before he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Honestly,” she said once they were on their way, “after finally meeting Mason face to face, the ceremony was a piece of cake. I was more worried that I’d have to intervene on the playground. It’s still hard for me to believe not a single one of the Blackwood pups gave Eric a hard time for not being able to shift.”
Gavin reached over and clasped her hand as he navigated the bumpy road to her cabin. “I can believe it. I hate how you both were treated by Brian and his dickhead crew. I’m not saying kids can’t be little shits, but any problems Eric runs into here will be normal kid stuff.”
Rachel smiled and relaxed into her seat. “I’m glad to hear that. I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. Trust me.”
God, she wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to trust the man beside her. But she glanced at the dozing six-year-old behind her and knew that more than just her heart was on the line.
The more time she spent with Gavin, the more perfect he seemed. He cared about Eric, and he cared about her. He’d gone out and found her a job, so she could stay grounded. It was as if he had some supernatural ability to know exactly what she needed before she knew herself.
All of his caring and tenderness had to be a mask for something. Didn’t it? He had to be hiding his true nature, one that might scare her away if she got to know him better. Didn’t he?
As she pondered, Gavin gave her hand another squeeze, and every cell in her body focused on him.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Rachel. Not of me and not of the pack.”
She blinked in surprise, wondering how he knew. Before she could ask, he lifted her hand to his lips and smiled. “Omega,” he whispered, as he turned into the shabby gravel parking spot in front of her cabin.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about his knowing every feeling she experienced as she had it, but he was out of the car and hurrying around to collect Eric before she could think of anything to say.
“Where’s Joey,” Eric mumbled sleepily as Gavin carefully lifted him into his strong arms.
“He’s probably asleep in his own bed, sport. Which is exactly where you’re going.”
Eric normally fought bedtime tooth and nail, but this time he wrapped noodly arms around Gavin’s neck and tucked his face into the hollow there. “Mmmkay,” he sighed.
Gavin carried him as if he was the most precious thing he’d ever held, which naturally brought a fresh onslaught of emotion to Rachel. Choking it back so the entire world wouldn’t know her feelings, she climbed out of the car as she dug around in her purse to find her phone. This was a Kodak moment if ever there was one.
Where did all this junk come from? she wondered as she pushed aside a compact, two lipsticks, a notebook, four pens, her wallet, a pack of gum and a few items she couldn’t
identify in the dark. Everything except her phone.
“Crap,” she muttered, looking up to tell Gavin she was going to search the car.
He stood stock-still a few paces from her doorstep, his ragged breath sawing in and out of his lungs. Stepping closer, she spotted patches of fur sprouting from his cheeks and arms. His canines had descended, and his amber eyes sparked with hyper-alertness.
“What’s wrong?”
He only spoke one word in such a gravelly, half-shifted tone, humans might not have understood him. But she did, and his response made her wolf snarl.
“Intruder.”
Rachel loosened the reins on her wolf but wouldn’t allow it to come forth until she knew what kind of danger was near. She needed all of her wits at the moment. She saw nothing out of the ordinary—no monsters lurking behind the hedgerow, mostly because there was no hedgerow—and as hard as she listened for unusual sounds, all that reached her were the chirps of crickets and a gentle breeze whispering in the treetops.
Only when she took another step toward the house did she catch the scent. It stuck in the back of her throat like bad medicine, a sickening mixture of roses and sap that was all too familiar. It had been some time since she’d smelled it, which explained why she hadn’t been able to identify it on the note left in Eric’s cubby right away.
Drawing on her wolf’s keen eyesight, she scanned the area again and nearly screamed when she saw the source of the odor. On the welcome mat, looking innocent and threatening all at the same time, was a single red rose.
Waiting just for her.
Chapter Twelve
Gavin’s wolf surged, fighting him to patrol the property and hunt whoever left that rose on Rachel’s doorstep, but he managed to keep the beast under control.
For now.
His frame vibrated with rage that a non-Blackwood wolf would dare step foot on their lands, not to mention go near his mate. His family.
“Rachel,” he whispered and then silently passed the boy into her arms.
Once relieved of his precious cargo, Gavin dropped to his knees and sniffed all around the rose and the cheap white vase it sat in. The distinctive smell was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember. He’d never forget it again, that much was certain.
Ignoring the whiff of Rachel’s anxiety, he focused on the scent, trying to bring forth the memory. It couldn’t be any of Brian Riverson’s lackeys because the NRC had locked them all away when the crazed wolf had been caught. There were no other nearby packs who might try encroaching on their territory. The last pack that had tried had been run off with the bloody stumps of their tails tucked between their legs.
After calming his rage as much as he could, he took a long, deep breath, trapping the tainted air in his lungs for several long moments. Roses, but not just from the rose itself. And something else, something his wolf associated with the forest. Pine pitch! He held his breath until his head started to swim, still unable to place the scent. It was right there, like the name of an old friend you haven’t seen since high school.
Dammit!
He exhaled loudly in frustration, causing Eric to stir and mumble in his sleep. Gavin glanced up at him, his pale little face shining in the moonlight, and then it hit him. He knew where he’d first caught the scent—on the card in Eric’s cubby at school.
The stalker was a Fields wolf, of that much he was certain. And judging by the threatening tone of the note they’d found in Burrman, and now the strangely sinister rose, perhaps the NRC hadn’t rounded up all of Brian’s thugs as they’d claimed.
And he’d followed Rachel and Eric to Ashwood, right to her front door.
“Oh, hell no,” he growled as he stood to his full height and turned to his mate. “Who is it?”
Fear gripped him hot and hard in the chest, along with an urge to run so fierce his knees nearly buckled. But the feeling wasn’t his own. It was coming from Rachel, like she was forcing her panic on him and shoving it into his chest herself.
“Don’t even think of running, Rachel,” he said, adding a sharp edge to his voice. “I won’t let you disappear on me.”
She looked all wide-eyed and innocent. “I wasn’t—”
“When are you going to understand that I know what you’re feeling?”
Her lips thinned into a hard line and her eyes narrowed. “Maybe you can sense what I’m feeling, but not what I’m thinking.”
“Fine, then tell me what you’re thinking.”
She stared at him, her mouth unmoving and gaze defiant. Raking his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and tried a different tack.
“Rachel, whoever’s doing this, I promise I’ll stop him. I just need a name. One little name. Then I can work out a plan and get the sentries searching for this guy. I only want to keep you safe.”
“And I’m telling you I’m not worth the bother,” Rachel shot back.
“I beg to differ.”
Gavin took a step toward her, his hand outstretched, but she eased away from his touch.
“Don’t make a big deal out of this,” she said, her eyes wide and fearful. “I don’t want to upset the alpha with whatever drama I’ve brought to the pack. I’ve only just joined. I’m not ready to get kicked out so soon.”
After dragging her feet to join the pack for so long, that was not the answer he’d expected. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t devotion to her new pack. He couldn’t have been prouder of his mate, but she still held on to some misconceptions that needed to be cleared up immediately.
“Rachel, a true alpha detests injustice and wolves who abuse their power. Why do you think I was in Burrman to begin with?”
“The National Circle—”
He held up a hand. “Yes, they wanted someone from Blackwood there to handle the transition, but I could have refused or sent one of the sentries in my place. We Blackwood brothers have a fierce protective streak. If we see injustice, we have to destroy it.” He paused, letting his message sink in before continuing. “But I can’t do anything until I know who I’m looking for.”
Rachel searched his face, looking for something he desperately wanted to give her, but then dropped her head. He could almost feel each heavy breath she took as she collected her thoughts. Finally, she raised her fierce gaze to his and squared her shoulders.
“His name is Paul Gibson. He was Brian’s beta.”
“Brian’s…” he started and then shook his head.
That couldn’t be right. She had to be mistaken, but one look in her unwavering eyes told him otherwise. Fisting his hands at his sides, he turned his back to her and tried to quell the newest surge of fury, but not in time to stop tufts of fur from sprouting from his wrists.
Why the hell hadn’t the NRC bothered to mention they hadn’t managed to catch all of Brian’s henchmen? Pretty fucking relevant information, as far as Gavin was concerned.
Possessiveness unlike anything he’d ever experienced overwhelmed him. He wanted to rush to Rachel’s side and never let her go. To keep her and Eric right where he could see them until all of this was sorted out. Until their lives could be as perfect as they deserved for them to be.
His inner wolf snarled, and the hair at his wrists grew thicker, but he bit back the urge to shift and prowl in front of them like a watch dog. His fury, no matter how justified, wasn’t what Rachel needed right now.
Pulling her keys from his pants pocket, he unlocked the front door and then kicked the rose to the side as he led his little family indoors. He searched under every piece of furniture and in every cabinet before giving the all-clear for her to put Eric to bed.
As she tucked the covers around his chin, Gavin marveled at the kid’s ability to sleep through anything. He hadn’t slept that well since meeting Rachel, and he wouldn’t sleep again until this Paul character was apprehended. Or worse.
He led her to the little loveseat situated in front of the fireplace and pulled her close. “I’m staying. I’ll prowl around and police
the perimeter until morning. We’ll set up a better watch system tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that, Gavin. We’re fine. It was a rose. That’s all. Just a—”
“It’s a mate privilege to care for the other half of their soul.”
He leaned closer, eager to wash out the scent of the other wolf with her warm, familiar air, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Without another word, he left them to get some sleep and stepped into the darkening night.
Snarling at the overturned vase, Gavin crushed the flower under the heel of his boot. He ground and ground until all that remained was a reddish stain and a shredded stem. Then he released his wolf and sent up a long, loud howl into the night sky—a warning to anyone who thought they could intrude on his land and his family and escape unscathed.
Chapter Thirteen
The clock on the Sheriff’s office wall struck eleven as Gavin finished reading the emailed reports from his sentries. After the incident with the rose two nights before, he’d patrolled the property until dawn, never straying too far from the cabin, but he’d seen no sign of Paul Gibson.
The next morning, he’d assigned his six best sentries to search for the asshole, but they’d lost his trail in the river. Gavin had set up a rotating schedule for the sentries so no fewer than two guarded Rachel’s cabin at any given time.
Gavin knew he should feel relieved the night watch’s reports were a snoozefest, but he was frustrated just the same. He simply couldn’t wait to bury his claws and fangs into the son of a bitch’s flesh.
To keep from going insane, he buried himself in old case files from the Fields pack, scouring the Burrman newspaper’s online archives, searching every database at the county’s disposal, and putting out feelers to nearby packs. It came as no surprise that the guy hadn’t left much of a footprint. As a beta, he was probably the kind of wolf who gave orders, so his hands wouldn’t get dirty.