The Werewolf Tycoon's Secret Baby (The Woolven Secret Book 2)

by DeWylde,Saranna

  Drew felt his lip curl into a smirk even though his brother couldn’t see it. “It’s not Parker.”

  “You?” There was a long silence. “Who is she? Does she pose a threat to the Secret?”

  “The woman from Santorini I told you about, Emmie Anderson. She’s here in Den Hollow.” He took a deep breath. “With the boy—my son.”

  “Are you sure?” Blake asked. “You know, with these kinds of resources at stake—”

  “He has the birthmark, and I’ve seen him Change.”

  “Shit. I assume you’ve already extended the invitation to Aphelion? Westwood can help with that.”

  “I tried explaining that to her. She’s not interested.”

  “Of course she’s not,” Blake replied drily. “Is she your mate?”

  “I know my duty.” The words were sour on his tongue. He did, indeed, know his duty and it wasn’t with the lovely, golden, perfect Emmie—the mother of his child. It was his duty to care for them, but he couldn’t mate her. Not with the packs at war. They needed more alliances, and those were cemented with marriage—mating. Parker had already screwed up by marrying some waitress instead of the DeVaughn heiress. Uncle Warner was currently falling on that sword.

  “I didn’t ask you about your duty. Is she your mate?”

  “Yes.” That wasn’t the right answer. Well, it was the truthful one, but it he shouldn’t have said it, because it wasn’t an option.

  “Then that supersedes everything else.”

  “She doesn’t have anything to offer to Woolven.” Even as Drew spoke the words, he wanted to scrub them from his tongue. “I’ll do my duty.”

  “Don’t be stupid. There’s a Woolven heir. Your duty is to protect him and his mother. Which means you need to bite her, mate her, and marry her. In that order.”

  “Blake—”

  “Are you really arguing with me, little brother?”

  He could feel the weight of Blake’s Alpha power radiating over him, even across the phone. “Yeah, I am. Because I know you’re a good man and a noble wolf. You wouldn’t keep me from my true mate. But I know it’s best for the pack.”

  “What’s best for the pack is protecting the heir. What’s best for the pack is showing the other nations that we’re strong enough to honor the bonds of true mates. We don’t need to harm our wolves to make alliances to stay strong. This is actually the best thing that could’ve happened. We’ve had candidates from all over the sub packs to be your bride. None of them are suitable, aside from the Ardennes offering, Victoria. But I have a feeling she belongs with Armand. She’s been locking horns with him since he got there.”

  Drew sighed. “I want her, but she doesn’t want me. And don’t tell me to mark her against her will. I saw how you were with Randi.” His brother had refused to mark his mate against her will, even to keep her safe. Luckily, she’d come to the decision herself.

  “It may not come down to what she wants, if she wants to stay alive. You know it takes an act of the Great Council to allow new humans to live with knowledge of our world. How do you think that vote would go?”

  Rage boiled his blood and tore away his human veneer. His wolf rose and the Change came over him, his warrior form erupting from his flesh in a volcanic fury. His phone snapped in the grasp of his great claws, ending the call abruptly. He knew exactly how the vote would go. Emmie would die.

  But they’d have to go through him first.

  Drew got a grip on himself and forced his body back to his human form. He was extra pissed he’d torn the leather seats in his SUV. He didn’t know how other werewolves survived who couldn’t afford to replace all the shit they destroyed when they Changed.

  He’d shredded his favorite suit, too.

  Goddessdamnit.

  He looked up just as he was about to put the vehicle in drive and saw a shock of rainbow hair blowing around in the breeze.

  Gin. She held a pink box with a big, cream organza bow.

  Sugar fairies were his favorite people.

  She waved and motioned for him to roll down his window.

  “Checking to make sure I didn’t eat your friend?” he teased.

  The fairy laughed. “You wouldn’t, not in any way she wouldn’t enjoy.” She winked at him. “I was able to whip up some more champagne truffles.”

  He started to dig around for his wallet.

  “No, they’re on the house. A congratulations on your recent fatherhood.” She shoved the box through the window.

  “Thanks, Gin.”

  “You know how you can thank me? Give me a ride back to the shop.”

  “Get in.”

  She went around to the passenger side and hopped in. “So, you know I don’t really need a ride. I want to give you some advice about Emmie.”

  “I figured as much.” He warned his wolf to be cool, but it didn’t seem to take offense to the sugar fairy, which relieved him greatly. Whenever anyone got between a wolf and his mate before they were marked, even to offer helpful and non-confrontational advice, it could get really ugly.

  “First, I am so glad you’re not an Alpha.”

  He wasn’t sure if he should take that as a compliment or not. His wolf wanted to snarl at her, snap at her throat and show her that a Beta could be strong, a Beta could be the definition of an alpha male without being Alpha. But he breathed deep and exhaled his rising fury.

  “An Alpha wouldn’t be able to let her make her own choices. I know Emmie pretty well. Her past is ugly and dark. Her ex-husband made it that way. I think she’ll come to you if you’re gentle. She speaks of her time in Santorini with a light in her eyes and a special curve to her smile. We sugar fairies are good at spotting all sorts of sugar, especially the sweet things like tenderness, hope, and love.”

  “She doesn’t love me. We barely know each other.” His wolf growled in his head, angry that he would say that knowing she was his mate.

  “No, maybe not yet. But she will, if you give her the space and freedom she needs to be safe.”

  “The wolf nations are at war.” If it wasn’t common knowledge yet, it soon would be. There was no harm in telling the sugar fairy.

  “I can see how that will be problem. Eat the truffles. They’ll help. Sweet things soothe the beast.” Gin winked.

  They pulled up in front of the shop.

  “We are safe here, aren’t we?” she asked.

  “As safe as you can be. Westwood has re-enforced the boundaries.”

  “Against the bone fairies, too?” She looked up at him, blue eyes wide and luminous. “I’ve been dreaming of them.”

  The bone fairies had held her captive, done terrible things to her. And the Woolvens felt the residents of Den Hollow were as much pack as if they’d all been Turned. “I think after the last time they tried to cross our borders and Westwood tore the head off of their general with her bare hands, they’re content to move on to easier prey.”

  Another box appeared in the fairy’s hand. “Speaking of, will you take her these cupcakes? They’re mocha cakes with Nutella frosting.”

  “She’ll love them.”

  “Happily Ever After is waiting for you. Don’t fuck it up.” She closed the door and unlocked her shop.

  Don’t fuck it up. Yeah. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. Just by acknowledging he had a true mate, he might have fucked things up for the pack. He didn’t envy Blake the choices he had to make as Alpha. Not at all.

  The first thing he did back at Aphelion was find Mrs. Westwood.

  She was currently wearing her maiden body. He didn’t like it. He narrowed his eyes when he saw her. “Going bar-hopping or something?” Drew nodded to her choice of attire—a much too tight dress and six inch heels. Of course, then there was the matter of her face. Not a kindly granny wrinkle in sight. Or a gray hair. It fell down her back in soft black waves. She looked every inch a succubus.

  Not. Okay.

  She laughed. “You’re old enough to know how these things work, Drew.”

  “No,
I’m really not.” He shook his head. “Can I please have Westwood back? You’re Eleanor. I don’t like it.”

  She laughed again, way too amused for his liking. “Serves you right, you furry little terror.” But she adopted her grandmotherly veneer, gray bun and kindly wrinkles all where they were supposed to be.

  “Much better, thank you.”

  Mrs. Westwood canted her head to the side and touched his cheek. “Oh, this is serious. What’s happened?” Her lips thinned. “Did someone…” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll smite them.” She took her role as caretaker to the lot of them very seriously.

  Drew could honestly say he’d never want to be on the wrong end of that witch.

  “No, nothing like that. At least not yet. I need you to gather your supplies for the spell that will keep a young wolf from Changing until he’s ready.”

  “Is Randi—” Her eyes widened.

  “No, Blake’s mate isn’t with young. The Woolven heir has already been born. He’s my son.” Every time he said the words “my son,” pride swelled in his chest.

  “When’s he coming to Aphelion?”

  “As soon as I can convince his mother.”

  “I’ll convince her.” Westwood lifted her chin.

  “No, no.” He shook his head. “It has to be her choice.”

  “I can make it her choice.”

  “No. Not like that. She’s in Den Hollow, so she’s safer than she would be outside of our borders. I’ll bring her, but let me do it my own way.”

  “Oh, Drew. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “Come with me tomorrow. If she’ll allow it, you can cut his hair.” Two birds, one stone, Drew thought.

  “Done.” She patted his cheek. “But are you sure you don’t want to use the spell as a bargaining tool? I’ll do it, but only if she—”

  “No.” His wolf rose again in defense of her.

  Westwood’s next pat on his cheek was a little harder—a warning. “Don’t flash your wolf eyes at me, young man. Or I’ll tie you outside tied to a tree like I did when you were little.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’re a good boy to defend your mate. Just remember who you’re talking to.”

  As if he could forget.

  “By the way, Warner is back with the DeVaughn girl. He has her at the cabin on the north side of the property. Her bags were delivered this morning. If you could take them out to her?”

  “Or you could…” He motioned with his hand as if he were casting a spell.

  “I could. But then you wouldn’t be able to tell the DeVaughn Alpha when he calls that you’ve seen his daughter and she is whole and healthy. This bride stealing nonsense is so eighteen hundred.”

  “Honestly, why would he call? We could lie. It’s not as if he can come and demand proof. He’s already chosen to side with Remus.”

  “I believe he has other motivations. Now go on. I have things to do.” She peered down at his hands where he still held the box of cupcakes. “Are you forgetting something?”

  “No, I didn’t forget. You didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

  She held out her hand and he presented her the cupcakes.

  “I love that little sugar fairy. She’s such a dear. I think she needs a mate, too. I’m going to find her one.”

  “Do you really think meddling is the way to repay her kindness?”

  She cocked her eyebrow. “Of course it is. Sometimes, for being a sly wolf, you’re awfully stupid.” She shook her head and shoved a cupcake in her mouth as she disappeared down the long hall.

  Drew decided it was an amazing thing he had any self-confidence at all growing up with these sorts of influences.

  “I heard that…” The witch’s voice echoed to him from seemingly out of nowhere.

  “I know,” he answered and ducked, just as a he felt a swoosh of air against the back of his head. “I can’t go check on the heiress if you knock me out, witch.”

  “Mrs. Westwood to you, boy,” the voice thundered.

  “So when are you going to find a nice warlock to settle down with instead of meddling with other people?”

  The whoosh didn’t miss this time.

  Chapter Five

  Emmie dreamed of Andrew and their time in Santorini. Those memories were never far from her thoughts and, even as she splashed in those surreal waters and lounged in his strong arms, Emmie knew it was just the ether of what had once been. But it was better than the dream she had where she was running—always running. Pushing her body faster and harder than she ever thought she could, but the monsters always caught her.

  Always tore her limb from limb. Devoured her. Only to somehow resurrect her and do it all over again.

  Drew’s arms or the nameless, faceless teeth in the dark?

  She surrendered.

  Emmie kissed him longer, reveled in the heat between them, memorized the way his body felt against hers and, while there was bliss, what she wanted to remember most was how safe she felt. Nothing bad could happen to her here.

  Emmie hadn’t been touched by a man since Santorini, and she’d thought she was fine with that. She was okay with the fact that part of her life was on hold. Or she had been, until she saw Andrew again.

  Andrew with the broad shoulders, the rippled muscles, and a cock that was a rocket straight to orgasm.

  Now her body burned for him with a painful awareness.

  If only she could go back to the warm sand, the tang of salt water, and those stolen moments where time belonged to them with no fear of tomorrow or the dark secrets of yesterday.

  Reality intruded, jerking her to wakefulness. Except Andrew wasn’t only Andrew—he was the billionaire VP of a Fortune 500 company. He could have any woman he wanted. He could have anything he wanted. She had nothing to offer him but a sagging ass and betrayal.

  When he found out that her ex-husband was the hunter Peter Breslin, he’d never believe anything she had to say again. He’d think she was a plant, or some kind of trick to get him and his family to drop their guard.

  What if he took Noah?

  She had to run.

  But he’d catch her. He’d followed her scent from the sweet shop. With his resources, with his… abilities, there was nowhere she could hide from him.

  Emmie was trapped, just as she had been with Peter.

  He wouldn’t hurt you.

  No, he wouldn’t hurt her. Not as long as she did everything he wanted her to. Not as long as she—Christ, she couldn’t live this way.

  But what about Noah? Could he survive without Andrew’s guidance?

  She sank down against the wall and put her head in her hands. Thirteen years under Drew Woolven’s watchful eyes.

  Thirteen years with Andrew Phillips, in his bed, a voice in the back of her head whispered.

  He’d pulled her into his arms so easily. He’d been so strong and warm, so everything she thought she wanted in a man. Powerful, but gentle. Only, he wasn’t a man. He was a werewolf. Just under his pretty skin lurked a nightmare.

  A nightmare that he’d passed on to their son.

  The sound of light knocking on her door pulled her out of her spiral, at least temporarily.

  Noah streaked past her at the speed of light. “It’s Aunt Lennie!” he shrieked.

  As if things couldn’t get any worse. Lenore couldn’t be in Den Hollow. It meant that Peter found them again. She’d have to say yes to Drew or run.

  “Hold on, Noah.” She inspected him. He was human-shaped and wearing pants. That was all she could ask for.

  And bonus that he wasn’t dirty.

  Yet.

  He flung open the door.

  Lenore was tall, leggy, and dressed in leather that had been charmed to withstand the bite of a full grown Alpha male werewolf. She was a hunter, but unlike her brother, she freelanced. She hunted rouge werewolves, werewolves who’d been lost to the rage—berserkers. She operated mostly with the consent and in concert with the Great Council.

  But that didn’t
mean she’d be any more welcome than her brother in a place like Den Hollow.

  “What’s happened?” Emmie asked, heart full of hope that warred with fear. There was a dark part of her that hoped Lenore was coming to tell them that Peter was dead. That she’d be safe from him forever.

  And so would Noah.

  “There’s a price on Peter’s head.” Lenore said quietly.

  “I thought the Council decided he was untouchable.”

  “The Council is at war. Divided down the middle on everything but this. Peter went to the Council and he showed them something horrible.” Lenore shook her head slowly.

  “What could possibly be more horrible than anything he’s already done?”

  “He’s been Turned.”

  Terror knifed her. Peter Breslin with all the power, all the skills of an apex predator like a werewolf. She and her son were going to die if she didn’t do something.

  “It’s worse. You might want to sit down.”

  Noah held his hands up to Lenore and she scooped him up in a big hug. “He’s got an immunity to silver.” She kissed the top of his head.

  “Did you take the contract?” Emmie whispered.

  “Of course I did. He’s going to come for you and Noah now. I can’t let that happen. Who knows how many people he’s going to hurt? How many he’ll infect…” Lenore shook her head. “Peter with that kind of power is the beginning of the end. Not just for you and Noah, but for all of us. His madness—” she shook her head.

  “You can’t do this alone.”

  “I’m not. I’ve got a secret weapon.” Lenore smiled. “But I wanted to warn you to be on your guard.” She closed her eyes and Noah clung to her, content to be held. When she opened her eyes, she met Emmie’s gaze squarely. “I wanted to spend the day with you and with my nephew before I go.” She eased Noah down to his feet. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course.” So many emotions rose to the surface and her voice shook with their intensity. “Noah, go get Mama’s blanket for outside sitting and we’ll go outside with Aunt Lennie.”

  Noah scampered off to do her bidding.

  “You don’t have to do this, Len.”