by Hattie Hunt
Emma should have. “Fucking. Traitorous. Bitch.”
“But, apparently, she did it because a new bear clan has moved into town. She says we have to appear strong.”
“By claiming a successor without the alpha will.” Emma growled low in her throat. “That’s some strength.”
Jordan clawed his hands in frustration. “What do we do?”
She stood up. Well, this made things easier. Didn’t it? She’d wanted freedom and Cheryl had proven she could toss any of her children away. She needed to appear strong by alienating her own children? Fine. “I’m packing my things.”
“What?” Jordan grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back down.
She shrugged him off. “I’m going to pack my things, and then you’re not going to worry about me.”
“You can’t move out. This is our place.” The burning edge of fury crept on the outskirts of his face.
Good. He was going to need that if he was going to be Cheryl’s successor without an alpha’s will. “What did you expect? We were living together because we were—” She air-quoted with one hand. “—dating. If Cheryl’s made you her successor, she won’t allow me to stay here. And I shouldn’t, anyway. Not with things the way they are.”
“I don’t care. You’re my best friend. There is no reason we can’t live together.”
Emma shook her head. Their living situation hadn’t even crossed her mind as they’d planned this. But now it was clear. It was stupid of her to not have seen it. Planned for it. Nobody was going to care that she and Jordan were friends. She was the slut, and she wouldn’t let that tarnish Jordan’s reputation with the clan. Especially not now.
Because Emma did care about the people in her clan. Another bear clan moving into town was serious. It could mean a lot of things.
Mostly, it meant that the newcomer might challenge Cheryl.
Or her successor.
The rage in Emma’s chest erased any will to care.
“Look.” Emma took in a steadying breath, reminding herself she wasn’t mad at Jordan, but at Cheryl. Jordan didn’t deserve to die or to be mauled by another alpha, a real one. “Be careful. If we’re challenged, don’t let Cheryl put you in the fight.”
Jordan’s jaw ticked. “I can stand up in a fight.”
“Not with an alpha, you can’t.”
He balled his hands into fists, and then shook them out. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”
“I do. It’s always been me. I was the only Elliot born with an alpha soul.”
Jordan jerked like he had been slapped.
Emma cringed, but reached for his arm. “You didn’t ask for this. Cheryl is using you to get to me.”
“Right.” He pulled his hand away. “I’m just the bastard child nobody wanted who doesn’t have a claim to the throne.”
Emma froze. Had she heard him correctly? Claim to the throne? She hadn’t even considered… could he really want to be alpha? Not possible.
“Jordan?” Emma tried to pace her scrambling thoughts. He just said he didn’t have a choice, didn’t he?
He grimaced. “I didn’t ask for this. But think about it, Emma.” His brow furrowed, trying to figure out what to say. Then the words tumbled out in a rush. “If she’s naming a successor, maybe she’s planning on stepping down. Then, if I am alpha, I can clear you and let Joe back into the clan. I can fix things.”
“That isn’t how it would work, and you know it.” She shook her head in disbelief. What was Cheryl thinking? “Cheryl won’t step down. You’re her insurance policy.”
“What if we go to Chuck?”
“He won’t interfere. Nothing’s happened to give him cause to step in. This is all just clan politics.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I might not be an Elliot by name, Emma. But dammit, I’ve spent the last fifteen years as one of you. I understand just fine.” He crossed his arms. “Let me challenge her.”
Emma threw her hands to her side. “You can’t.” For a thousand different reasons. And one. He wasn’t strong enough. It would destroy him.
A thought struck Emma like a bolt of lightning. Was she strong enough? She suddenly wasn’t so sure. She could bluster and rage and growl all she wanted, but when it came down to it, would she be able to make the difficult choices? Did she have it in her? What made her so sure it was supposed to be her to make the challenge?
Emma knuckled her temples, a slow ache building beneath them. It wouldn’t work. His plan wouldn’t work. She couldn’t let him do it, even if he wanted to. It wasn’t his place. Why the hell had Cheryl dragged Jordan into this?
To get to Emma. It was the only answer. It had to be.
Emma looked up.
Jordan watched her, hair standing in a thousand directions from the amount of times he’d mussed it with his hands. His arms were crossed, and she could see the inkling of fur along his bare shoulders. Jordan was ready to fight her on this. Bear and all.
And to what purpose? They were on the same damned side.
“I’m going to grab a few things and go to Joe’s for the night. I can get the rest of my things this weekend.” Emma tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, afraid it would tremble, give her away. Clue him in to her sudden doubts. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”
Jordan nodded curtly, not uncrossing his arms.
“I just need some time to think.” Emma waved her hands helplessly. This was such a mess. Maybe that had been Cheryl’s plan. Put her and Jordan at odds. Break apart the dream team.
Seriously, Jordan as alpha?
Emma pulled out her phone and shot off a quick message to Joe. He immediately tried to call her back, but she ignored him. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not be in the loop yet. She couldn’t have imagined it wasn’t being talked about at the Fox Hole. Granted, in typical Joe fashion, he probably hadn’t noticed. She supposed getting kicked out of the clan had some benefits.
It took Emma five minutes to grab what she needed. While she worked, Jordan continued to stand in the middle of the living room, shoulders bulked up and ridged with fur, amber eyes on fire. He didn’t try and stop her, but he didn’t help either. He just watched her, moving from one room of the apartment to another.
When she’d filled her backpack with a change of clothes and toiletries, chargers and miscellaneous crap that seemed important in the moment, she put a hand on the door knob and turned to look at Jordan.
There was a tension in the air between them that she had never experienced before with him. An… awkwardness. Like they didn’t know how to be in the same room together. Which was insane, because they’d been living together for three years.
Emma hated it. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Okay. I guess.”
“Okay.”
Emma frowned. Dammit. What had gotten into him? “We’ll talk tomorrow. I promise.”
Jordan turned away.
Why didn’t this feel like it was going to be okay?
9
Emma didn’t sleep well. Joe and Ripley’s temporary apartment was tiny, and they didn’t even have a real couch. It was a love seat, too well worn buy a clan of teenage bears back in the day. The cushions were lumpy, and the upholstery was worn almost completely through in multiple places. Joe had apologized profusely for the lack of space and comfort, but Emma shrugged him off. The furniture had been the last thing on her mind, until an hour before her alarm was supposed to go off.
Now, as she lay there, it was all she could think about. Or, it was all she would let herself think about. If she let her thoughts wander even slightly, her mind replayed Joe’s fury, Ripley’s consolation…Jordan’s dismissal.
How had things exploded so suddenly around her? Had she missed the signs? It didn’t seem possible. It wouldn’t have been possible, until everything that had happened with Brett and the rabies virus. That had been where Emma made her mistake. She had shown her intentions too ear
ly. She had given Cheryl no choice but to act if she wanted to stay in control.
The fact that Cheryl had used Jordan to accomplish it made Emma’s stomach curl. Jordan Baker. He had the biggest heart in the universe, but a heart didn’t win wars. And then, he had said the one thing that set her back.
He wanted to be alpha.
How could she have so poorly misjudged him? Did he want to challenge for alpha to protect her? Or did he really want it for himself?
Jordan was always protecting people. Well, trying to. He didn’t always do it right.
But then, who was Emma to judge? She’d left their apartment under the guise of protecting him. In reality, she was taking the coward’s way out. She needed Cheryl to think she had won. Part of Emma wanted to leave it at that. Maybe letting her win wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
What would things be like if Emma just walked away?
Her thoughts strayed to Mason Covey. Tall. Well-kept five o’clock shadow and green eyes. Thick rimmed glasses. His voice. The way he laughed. How he made her giggle. Gods, it had felt good just being near him. Jordan used to make her laugh, before they were tangled up in Cheryl’s web.
Emma kicked off her blanket and sat up. If she laid there any longer, she was going to drive herself crazy. She needed to do something, and it might as well be baking. She knew she was good at that. Not to mention she had invited Mason over to try out a new cookie recipe.
She needed to come up with one of those, or she’d look like an idiot.
She probably shouldn’t have done that, inviting him over. Not with everything else going on. Thanks to Cheryl, people were already talking. If she made a habit of joining Mason in public, it would only fuel the fires and might make things harder for him. Even if he had only been there two weeks.
People see what they want to see.
Emma suddenly wished she had made a point to keep herself less integrated with the mundane population. It was going to be bad enough trying to explain to Cyn what had happened. Checking the clock, Emma pulled on her pants and slipped a tank over her head. It wasn’t even five in the morning yet. Cyn wouldn’t be showing up at the bakery for another half an hour to start the breads. If Emma left now, she could get the oven’s started and the first batch baking by the time Cyn had poured her first coffee.
Groaning, Emma flopped back on the couch. Her head banged into the solid armrest, and she swore. Then she remembered belatedly that Joe and Ripley were sleeping on the other side of the thin wall. Grumbling, she pulled on her shoes and grabbed a sweater off the top of her backpack, and stepped out the door.
Fresh air greeted her like a refreshing cup of Elliot homebrew. Crisp, cold, and dark. The sun had barely begun lightening the distant horizon, and Emma could still see stars off to the west. She loved mornings. At least, when they were on her terms.
Emma wondered, for a moment, if Joe kept a stock of Elliot brew in the bar downstairs. And then she remembered that he had been kicked out of the clan. If they had any in the Fox Hole, it would be left over from when Jib had made arrangements with Cheryl for supply. Since Jib had died, the stock had been diminished because Cheryl refused to deal with Ripley.
The woman who had saved her damned son.
Emma hated that insufferable, illogical woman.
It was too early for a beer anyway, if she wanted to be realistic about it. Then she remembered Leslie’s comment about sharing her wine before the day had even begun. The thought made her smile a little as she descended the stairs.
One nice thing about staying at Joe and Ripley’s was the distance to the bakery. Two and a half blocks. Her and Jordan’s apartment had been on the edge of town, close to the woods, only a mile from the Elliot clan house. Just like it was supposed to be. Being so, she’d had to drive to work. She didn’t mind, but if she had to travel the distance, she would rather run and give Mal a chance to stretch his legs.
He grunted at the thought. We could still run.
Don’t push it.
No one’s around.
That we know of.
She ignored him and turned the corner onto the bakery’s street. The windows were still dark, and while Emma knew she didn’t have to worry about it, she was glad that Cyn hadn’t decided to show up early for work.
Emma didn’t’ know what had possessed her to invite Mason in to test out her new cookie. She didn’t have a new cookie. But she wanted to see him again. Which didn’t help her mood any. With everything going on, the last thing she needed was a distraction in the form of Mason Covey.
Or, maybe it was exactly what she needed. Emma stewed over the thought as she pulled out her keys to unlock the bakery door. She was letting herself be distracted. Even worse, she wanted to be distracted. The more she found herself dwelling on clan politics or Cheryl… she found herself looking for something else to focus on. Like searing green eyes. And a rich, deep voice that seemed out of sorts the with sexy nerd exterior.
It was official. Emma had gone crazy.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had paid any attention to anyone but Jordan. Not that she had really had a choice if they wanted to be successful keeping up their ruse. But it had been easy. She hadn’t wanted to look. Now, it was like someone had flipped a switch the second she and Jordan made it official that they were going to call it off.
Checking the pilot on the oven, Emma turned the knob to light the burners and slid the thermometer onto the rack. Their oven was old school, but it did the job. She thought it added to the charm of her and Cyn’s bakery. Not that the public knew that, but Emma enjoyed the thought.
She had just slid the bread into the oven when the front door chimed.
“Emma?” Cyn called through the bakery.
“Yeah.” Emma checked the thermometer a final time and met Cyn behind the front counter.
Even at five-thirty in the morning, Cyn was a vision. Though, she’d upped the level, this morning. A swath of her A-line hair was a deep, sapphire blue that made her green eyes pop even more.
Emma never understood how that woman could roll out of bed looking like she was ready for a night on the town. “Love the hair.”
“Thanks.” Cyn frowned. “You’re here early.”
Emma shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I would get a head start.” She looked pointedly at the espresso machine. “You making coffee?” That was the one thing in the bakery that Emma didn’t do. Her and the damned espresso machine just didn’t get along. The last time she had tried to use it, she had burned herself with the milk steamer and nearly went full grizzly behind the counter.
Cyn shook her head with a smirk. “You really should learn. What if I didn’t come in one day? How would you get coffee?”
“I’d walk to Lou’s and close our espresso bar for the day. Machine broken. Or, Cyn bailed, blame her. The customers would believe it.”
Cyn laughed and switched on the grinder. The room filled with the scent of fresh ground beans, and Emma inhaled slowly, letting the scent work through her. There was nothing like the smell of fresh ground coffee.
Jordan made good coffee. She sighed. She was going to miss his morning coffee.
“You okay Emma?”
Emma grimaced. She had been getting that question a lot lately. She needed to get her shit together. At least on the surface. It was going to be a while before she truly had anything together.
“Had a rough night.” She looked up at Cyn, noting the genuine concern in her eyes. Emma tended to take Cyn for granted, as a mundane. Yet, Cyn was someone that she could talk to, at least about some things. Emma looked away. “Jordan and I broke up.”
Cyn nearly dropped the espresso shot she was pouring into a paper cup. “What!”
“Last night.” Keep it mundane. Right. “It has been a long time coming. We just didn’t know how to tell anyone.”
“You aren’t serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.”
Cyn handed Emma a steaming americano. “I’m so sorry. I thought
you guys would be together forever.”
“You aren’t the only one.” Emma hoped Cyn wouldn’t catch the undertone to that statement. She sipped her coffee and burned her tongue. “We’re still friends. Things are just a little complicated with our families.”
“What can I do? Want me to make a chocolate cake? Pick up a tub of ice cream? Spike your coffee with whiskey? Seriously, anything.” Cyn gripped her latte with both hands, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet, determination etched on her face.
Emma smiled. “Are you keeping whiskey in the office? If you are, I am offended you haven’t shared before.”
Cyn dropped back onto flat feet. “Shit. You caught me.” She winked.
“Thanks, Cyn. Really. Let’s just work. I’m supposed to come up with some new cookie flavor for today, and I have no idea where to start.”
“New cookie flavor?”
Emma cringed. “Yeah. I might have invited Mason over to try it out.”
“Who?”
“The guy who left his card here the other day.” God, Emma hoped that was the only thing Cyn remembered about him.
“Oh! Right.” Something skittered across Cyn’s expression, but Emma couldn’t quite figure out what it was. “Who is he, anyway?”
“Just a guy. Moved here a couple weeks ago. He’s teaching at Svelte.”
“And why are you inviting him to try new cookies? I thought he pissed you off.” Cyn kicked out her hip and narrowed her eyes at Emma.’
“He did. We’ve been talking a bit since then. Got off on the wrong foot.” Talking about this out loud made her feel stupid. What was she thinking?
“When did you break up with Jordan?”
“Like I said, it is complicated. Okay?” Emma tried to tone her voice to make it sound final, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“Sure.” Cyn drew out the word.
“Just help me come up with a cookie. I don’t need judgement from you, too.”
Evan’s face flashed across Emma’s vision, the word slut ricocheting between her ears.
“You know,” Cyn said quietly, her expression very serious, “you can tell me what is going on.”