HannasHaven

by Lorna Jean Roberts

  “He didn’t force me,” she told him, pulling her arm free. “Does this really matter?”

  He hadn’t asked her until now because he hadn’t wanted to push her too far, too fast. Now, though, her answers had become much more important. He wanted to know. He had to know.

  Marcus raised his eyebrows, giving her a firm look. She wrinkled her nose at him and he had to bite his cheek to stop from smiling.

  She stared at her hands as she spoke. “I didn’t mate Dan. We were never mates.”

  Marcus gaped at her in shock. “What? But you said…” He trailed off, thinking back. Had she ever told him that Dan was her mate?

  “No, I didn’t. You all thought he was and I just never disagreed.”

  “We thought the two of you were mated because that’s what he told us. I’m very good at detecting lies.”

  She stared right into his eyes, her face pale but her voice was steady. “Dan was a gambler. His success relied on his ability to bluff and lie. Besides, I think he almost believed that I was his mate. He wanted me to be his mate. But I just couldn’t. I know I should have told you, but I was scared that none of you would help me if you knew the truth. You promised Dan you’d look after his mate. That’s not me.”

  “Christ.” He blew out a breath. “Hanna, of course we’ll help you. No matter who you are.”

  Misery filled her eyes. “He was my friend. He helped me when no one else would and I couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted.”

  Marcus held her tight, wanting to soothe her. At the same time relief surged through him. She hadn’t loved him. She hadn’t mated him.

  “I owed him so much, but every time he touched me…” She trailed off, but he filled in the pieces. She hadn’t been attracted to him in the slightest.

  “I think, like me, he was lonely. His family wasn’t well liked because of their gambling. But because they sometimes brought in money to the pack accounts they were higher in the hierarchy than my father, who only ever wasted money on booze.”

  Marcus pondered over everything she’d said. He had so many unanswered questions, yet felt as though he were stuck in a maze. The wrong question and he’d find a dead end.

  “Why was your family so low in the pack?”

  She looked away, embarrassed. “My father was an alcoholic.”

  Marcus was astonished. Werewolves didn’t suffer from alcoholism. Their high metabolism made it hard for them to even get drunk.

  “He always had a bottle in his hand. I think over the years his wolf died bit by bit. I hardly ever saw him change. The pack thought him worthless. And he was. I have no friends, no family. The closest pack to us would have sent me straight back and I had no way of figuring out where another pack was or how to get there. If I’d set out on foot, they’d have tracked me.”

  The fear in her voice clawed at him, stirring his possessive instincts.

  If he ever let himself get too close to her, he’d be the most overprotective bastard there ever was. Hanna was young; she’d barely lived. She deserved more than a crusty, set-in-his-ways wolf who’d want to smother her. No, he wasn’t right for her. No matter how much his wolf demanded he take her for his own.

  “And what would they have done once they found you?” he asked.

  Hanna shot him a troubled glance and he immediately tamped his rising anger. His fury would hinder his search for answers.

  She shrugged. “Lock me up, I guess.”

  “Did they ever hit you, hurt you?” Anyone who abused someone weaker or smaller than themselves was scum as far as Marcus was concerned. When his mother died, he and his brothers were sent by his stepfather Zachary to live with his aunt. But his sister had been made to stay with Zachary. She was his biological child and he had been Alpha at the time.

  No one had known the extent of the abuse he’d dished out to her. Marcus hated that she’d been hurt by that bastard. When they had found out, he and his brothers had helped her escape. But still, the thought of the pain and suffering she’d endured at Zachary’s hands made him feel ill.

  The thought of someone abusing Hanna made him murderous.

  “No.” She let out a humorless laugh. “That would make me damaged goods.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Instantly, she shut down, her face blanking. She attempted to rise, but he held her easily.

  “I need to finish dusting, Marcus,” she complained.

  “There isn’t a speck of dust in this place. I’ve let you avoid this for weeks, Hanna. Time’s up. You are going to tell me everything. Now. And if not me, then it’s going to be Rye asking these questions and believe me, he won’t be doing it so gently.”

  Rye was out of patience and Marcus had little left himself. He’d promised to get the answers they both wanted. Although he’d choose what exactly to tell Rye and what he’d keep to himself.

  Hanna stiffened, her fear an offensive smell he immediately wanted to extinguish. But he needed her to talk to him. And protecting her from Rye’s questions was not going to get her to open up.

  Hanna’s fingers drummed against her thigh. He didn’t grab for her hand. She had a right to her nerves.

  She stared at the far wall. “They wouldn’t mark me because they wanted to use me. My Alpha wanted me to mate with someone of their choosing. He wanted to create a stronger bond with our closest pack. We needed new blood in the pack, we’d interbred too much and no one was having pups. The pack was dying. There were only a handful of pups born in the last twenty years.”

  He ran his hand up and down her arms, trying to calm her.

  “Were they doing the same with the other unmated members of your pack?” He couldn’t believe they were forcing people to mate with strangers.

  “No, it was only me. At least to begin with. Females in the pack had no say in anything. They had to obey their closest male relative. I’m guessing that my father is the only one who would agree. I’m sure they bribed him with alcohol. He’d have sold his soul for a bottle of whiskey.”

  “So they wanted you to mate with someone from this other pack?”

  “Yes. The werewolf they chose was Reginald.” She shuddered, her fear morphing to near terror. “He’s horrible, awful. I know he wanted to hurt me. He told me,” she shuddered and it tore his insides, “he told me that when I was his he was going to enjoy tying me up and making me bleed.”

  Marcus drew her closer.

  “You don’t have to mate him now,” he assured her, willing to promise anything to take away her fear. Her fingers increased the speed of their tapping. She was fast moving from agitation to hysteria.

  “Cooper might make me go back.”

  Marcus turned her chin, staring down into her face. “He said he wouldn’t. Besides, I would never let that happen.”

  “He’s your Alpha. You have no say.” But she’d calmed somewhat at his words. She might not be willing to admit it, but she trusted him.

  “Cooper isn’t like your Alpha. He won’t make you do something that terrifies you and he definitely won’t force you back into an abusive situation.”

  “I wasn’t abused.”

  “Weren’t you?” Could he push her further? Marcus pulled her close and rocked. Shudders racked her slight body. “Shh, baby,” he crooned. “You don’t ever have to see your father or any of his pack again.”

  Hanna turned, burying her head against his neck.

  His wolf damn near howled in satisfaction.

  Hanna couldn’t believe she was buried against Marcus’ chest, held tightly in his arms. It amazed her how far she’d come in a few weeks. Considering that she could barely talk to him for the first week, sitting on his lap, opening up to him as she had amazed her.

  I should move.

  But not yet.

  “What am I going to do?” She immediately wished she could take the question back. Her future wasn’t Marcus’ problem. “Sorry, forget I asked that,” she said quickly. “I didn’t—”

  He placed a finger over her mouth. Tin
gles of arousal raced up her spine. What would he do if she opened her mouth, licked him, sucked him?

  A shiver skittered over her skin, raising goose bumps on her arms.

  “Hanna?” His voice was a deep growl, his eyes burning amber.

  “What?”

  He shook his head as though to clear it. Suddenly he placed her on her feet and stood.

  “Cooper and Rye are coming back tomorrow,” he spoke abruptly, his whole body tense. “Listen to what Cooper has to say before you start worrying.”

  Start worrying? If only I could stop.

  “I’m going for a run.” He turned away suddenly. She gaped after him. “Stay in the house.”

  With that, he was gone.

  What had she said to annoy him? She picked up her duster. She felt the loss of his touch keenly. Held tightly on his lap, she’d been secure, warm. Now she felt decidedly cold and alone.

  Well, best get used to it. Soon they’d go their separate ways.

  Sadness enveloped her stomach, making her feel sick. But she sucked it up and threw herself into her cleaning.

  *

  Hours later, after a long run and a shower, Marcus lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. The smell of roast beef drifted toward him. His stomach growled.

  What the hell am I doing? Lying here, hiding like a coward from a woman less than half my size.

  And what for? Because he couldn’t control his raging desire to pin her against the nearest wall and fuck her?

  With a groan of disgust he rose and left the room, padding toward the kitchen. Hanna turned from the stove where something bubbled away. She stared at him, a mix of surprise and relief filling her eyes.

  I’m an asshole.

  While he’d been busy sulking over his inability to control his need for her, she’d probably been stressing over what she’d done to make him act like a snappy bastard.

  He sat at the table. “Smells good, Tink.”

  Her eyebrows rose haughtily. “Tink?”

  His lips twitched. “Tinker Bell is quite a mouthful.”

  “I am not a fairy.”

  “You remind me of one. I think it’s the way you flit about all over the place.”

  “I do not flit around,” she said, clearly affronted.

  There, that’s better. That lost look, the same one she’d had when she first arrived, had disappeared from her face.

  He never wanted to see her looking that way again.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  “Roast beef, mashed potatoes and corn. You must be hungry after your run. You didn’t come in for a snack.”

  He heard the question in her voice. He always grabbed something to replenish his energy stores after changing. “I needed a shower.”

  She checked her bubbling pot. “Well, it’s almost ready.”

  Picking up the large pot of potatoes, she carried them over to the sink to drain them. Marcus quickly rose, grabbing the pot from her.

  “Let me do that.”

  “It’s okay—”

  “Hanna,” he warned. “Accept help when it’s offered.” He drained off the potatoes. “Want me to mash them?”

  With an abrupt nod, she handed him the masher and grabbed the plates to set the table. They worked together in silence, sitting when the food was laid out.

  Marcus forked up some beef, nearly moaning as he ate. “This is delicious, Hanna.”

  She blushed. Damn, she was cute.

  “Thanks. Figured you’d be hungry so I made extra.”

  She picked at small bits of meat, her plate of food not even half as big as his. He frowned, realizing something.

  “When’s the last time you changed?”

  Hanna dropped her fork but promptly picked it up again. She shrugged.

  “You haven’t come running with me since you’ve been here.”

  Holding back from changing for too long could be dangerous to a werewolf’s health. If Marcus went more than a week without changing into his wolf form, he grew irritable, short-tempered. Even more so than usual.

  “You haven’t asked me.”

  “Hmm, well next time I’ll be sure to do that, Hanna,” he drawled. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

  “You’re incredibly bossy.”

  He grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Grabbing her fork, he dug into her potatoes, dangling it in front of her mouth. “Want me to make choo-choo noises?”

  Hanna burst into laughter and took the fork. “Now that I’d pay to see.”

  “Hmm, I’ll let you know the cost.”

  “I don’t have any money, remember?” she teased.

  “I’m sure we can work out some sort of payment plan.”

  Hanna’s breath caught in her throat at the desire in his eyes. She dropped her gaze. A few hours ago, he’d grown so annoyed with her that he’d left the house in a huff. Then he’d hidden in his room.

  Now he seemed to be flirting with her. Was he? She didn’t really have enough experience to know.

  Best not to think that way. Dreaming like that could lead only to heartbreak. Why would he want her, after all? She had nothing to offer.

  Marcus sat back with a groan. All hint of arousal had faded from his face. Maybe she’d imagined it.

  “That was fantastic, Hanna. What’s for dessert?”

  “What makes you think I made dessert?”

  He gave her a mock scowl. “No dessert? Woman, I’m a growing man. I need my dessert.”

  “Growing?” She raised a brow. “The only growing you’ll be doing is outwards if you keep eating dessert.”

  He slapped her butt as she rose to grab the plates. The slap throbbed all the way through her blood. She looked at him in surprise, but he merely scowled back at her.

  “Dessert. Now. And then I want to play some poker.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Let’s see whether you’re any good, Tinker Bell.”

  *

  “Damn.” Marcus threw down his cards in disgust. Hanna eyed him carefully, wondering if he was going to blow up at losing for the third time in a row. Men were funny like that. They’d be surprised when she won the first hand, admiring when she won the second. After that, they could go one of two ways. Get angry or sulk.

  “Sorry,” she told him. She should have let him win that last hand.

  “Sorry? Don’t be sorry, Hanna. You beat me fair and square. Damn, you’re good.”

  She flushed at the respect in his voice. “You want to play another hand?”

  Marcus leaned back, closing his eyes. “No thanks. I’m beat.”

  Hanna took a moment to study him. She hadn’t had many chances to simply stare at him to her heart’s content. He was always on his guard, always aware.

  He was so masculine, at times it took her breath away. He didn’t have Cooper’s charisma. He wasn’t darkly handsome the way Rye was. But his hard, chiseled face held character and strength. Although not as tall as his brother or his Alpha, he easily outmuscled them, his biceps so thick, she’d bet she couldn’t even get her hands around them.

  As he relaxed in the sofa cushions, she noticed the smaller details. A few lines around his eyes and mouth, the small scar by his ear, a freckle on his collarbone.

  His pierced ear, shaved head and perpetual five o’clock shadow only added to his appeal. Sure, he could be scary as hell. When he used that voice on her, the one that said he meant to be obeyed, she wanted to cave and give him everything.

  Yet there was a heart beneath all that gruffness. And it could be wishful thinking, but she was pretty sure he liked her.

  Suddenly, those piercing green eyes struck her. She blinked.

  “Ready for bed?”

  “S-sure,” she stuttered, standing. She swayed, feeling off balance.

  Marcus frowned. “You okay?”

  “Umm, yeah, just stood up too quick.”

  Marcus held back his chuckle until she’d fled. His wolf preened under her attention. The
entire time she was studying him, he’d fought the urge to grab her, roll her under him and show her exactly what happened to little girls who ate him up with their eyes.

  Praising himself for his restraint, Marcus pulled himself off the sofa. Damn, he was tired. He was too old for this much broken sleep.

  Hanna had to be even more exhausted.

  She didn’t sleep well, often waking with nightmares and getting up to clean. As soon as she moved around, he’d awaken. And he was never able to sleep until she was safely back in bed. She needed her sleep. He didn’t like the large, black circles under her eyes and she’d lost weight even though he’d swear she didn’t have fat left on her bones to lose.

  But she’d slept last night with him in the room. All night long, he’d had to resist the urge to jump into bed beside her, and he’d gotten no sleep with the scent of her permeating the room, her soft breathing tickling his ears and her arousal stirring his own to an impossible state.

  He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, knowing he’d need some release before entering her bedroom.

  Stepping into the shower, he squirted body wash into his hands and grasped his hard dick. Pumping furiously, he closed his eyes. Hanna’s face, lit with a smile, floated through his mind.

  His balls burned. Tingles raced up his legs, pooling in his stomach.

  Seed shot from his jerking cock. He groaned, his legs weakening with the force of his orgasm. Breathing heavily, he leaned back against the shower wall.

  Eventually he found the energy to turn off the water and, stepping out, dried himself. In his room, he grabbed a pair of cotton pajama pants. He hardly ever wore the damn things. The only reason he even owned a pair was because Laney had bought them for him last Christmas.

  The light was off in Hanna’s bedroom. He didn’t bother to knock.

  A shaft of light from the hallway fell across Hanna, who was pulling a nightgown over her body. Her half-naked body. A pair of cotton panties covered her pussy but her breasts were on display. Small but perfect, topped with peach-colored nipples.

  Delicious.

  “Marcus!” she squeaked as she pulled down her nightgown. Her face flushed with surprise. “What are you doing?”