Brand of the Pack

by Tera Shanley

  Sinking into the rocker, she pulled out the first book. She flipped through the worn pages of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Marissa had been reading it to Lana whenever she got the chance. She ran her finger along the folded corner of the page they had last read. A chandelier hung from the exposed rafters above, casting soft light across the page. There wasn’t a more magical place on earth for Lana to call her own.

  Grey watched her with indecipherable golden eyes. “Do you think she will like it?”

  “It’s perfect.” She blinked away stinging tears. “But, how did you know we would come back?”

  “I didn’t. I just hoped.” He shrugged and looked away as if the emotion swimming in his eyes would be too much to share.

  He strode to an open space in the wall between the dresser and the play kitchen and put his hand behind the bulky chest of drawers. It clicked. A thick panel opened up to reveal a secret room. Inside were miniature cushioned chairs and a small television on a wooden stand with a shelf of Lana’s favorite cartoons. Against the wall was a cupboard of art supplies with a small table and chairs nestled beside it.

  “I know it seems like too much, but it’s not only for fun. I built this house to be big enough for a pack someday, but I wanted it to be safe, too. I have to be able to protect you guys. This is a safe room. Lana’s scent will saturate this room, but no one will smell her if she is in the secret room. There is a button to open the door on the inside, too, and when the door is closed, it’s impossible to tell there is a secret door there. I even rigged it so if someone knocks on the wall, it sounds the same as the other walls.”

  He took her hand and led her out Lana’s door to the room at the end of the hallway. “This is my room, but I want you to sleep here until you are comfortable enough to make it our room. I’ll take one of the guest bedrooms until then.”

  The room had a huge king-sized bed with rustic wooden furnishings on top of glistening hardwood floors. Opposite the bed, a fireplace opened up to the bathroom and allowed the fire to be easily seen and felt from a large claw foot bathtub. She walked straight through the room to French doors that led to the huge balcony she had seen from the road. The porch was decorated with dark furniture, and a worn paperback lay on a small table. This must be where Grey spent his evenings.

  So big was the space, his deep voice seemed to echo when he spoke. “Marissa’s room and the other two guest rooms are on the other side of the house through the living room.”

  “Are they all as big as these?” she asked, overcome with the size of the beautiful home.

  Grey laughed and shook his head. “No, they are about half the size of these. They’re furnished, but I didn’t see the point in having three huge unused rooms in the house. We were almost finished building by the time I figured out Marissa would be permanent or I would have made her room bigger. She picked it out and seems to like it enough, though. Even decorated it herself. Well, she told me what she wanted and we fixed it up together,” he corrected.

  Marissa was the thirteen-year-old adopted daughter of Dean, the Dallas pack’s alpha, and Rachel, his wife. Marissa would be switching to Grey’s pack to discourage other males from fighting over her. She was much too young to make a decision on a mate, and Grey was frightening enough that no one bothered her around him. Still, it burned a little. Morgan cleared her throat. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “Uh oh. Okay, what about?”

  “I want her to be in your pack, but I want to be the first one in. I know it sounds silly, but it bothers me that I wouldn’t be the first one. And no, it’s not just my wolf wanting to be your second or anything like that. She doesn’t care. Okay, well maybe she cares a little, but it’s me, too. I know it’s selfish to come in here and ask favors, but I don’t know, I just—I want you to pick me first.”

  He grinned. “Really?”

  A sheepish nod from her, and he rubbed his chin like he was thinking long and hard about the request. Sinking onto the bed, he pulled her closer with a gentle tug on her giant shirt until she was pressed against the strong planes of his chest. His smile was downright delicious, and when his hands snaked up her shirt to cup her bottom, she hardly flinched. Already, he was wearing off the effects of the Montana pack’s treachery.

  “Done,” he said. “You’ll be first. We’ll make it official at the next Full Moon Hunt.”

  “Don’t tease me,” she said, half daring to hope.

  His voice dipped low. “I’d never tease you with something like that. You just asked to join my pack. You can have anything you want, woman.”

  She leaned in and kissed him, a soft stroke against his lips. Easing back, she murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you so damned much, I thought I’d die of the ache.” With a baffled shake of his head, he ran his hands farther up under the shirt until his hands splayed across her back. “I still can’t believe you’re here, that I’m touching you. That you want me.”

  Resting her forehead on his, she whispered. “I always wanted you. From the first moment in the woods when you were still human.” She traced a light finger under his eye, shining bright amber. “I want you even more now.”

  Pulling his hands from her back, he grabbed her palm and kissed it. “You sure you want to live here with me?”

  She jumped over him, spinning and landing on her back on the plush bed. Spread out like a star, she sighed happily and stared at the spinning ceiling fan. “Grey, I was prepared to live in your crappy apartment. Or under a bridge like a troll. Or even a box would’ve done. Home is where you are.” She propped up on one elbow. “Now, are you going to tell me where you got the money for all of this, or am I just supposed to assume you got mixed up in some illegal hobbies while I was away?”

  The mattress sank as he fell beside her. “Ha. It’s not illegal money.” He frowned at the ceiling fan.

  Running a finger down his stubbled jaw, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I grew up in a different world. Wealthy. Does that make you think differently of me?”

  “No. It bothers me that you thought you couldn’t tell me, though.”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t. I just spent a lot of time trying to separate myself from my dad, and when you came along, well, it was just easier to keep that part of my life a secret.”

  “Yeah, but now this all feels too good to be true, Greyson. Where did the money come from?”

  “My mom. She set up a trust without my father knowing. He would’ve never allowed it. I was supposed to help him run his companies someday, and the trust was my mom’s way of cutting me free. I’ve known about it since she died. My dad was pissed when her will was read, but it was too late for him to do anything about it. She was careful with how her lawyers handled it. Like she knew my dad would look for a loophole. He’ll know that I touched the money now, though, and he’ll come after me to learn his business. He wants nothing more than his companies to stay in our family.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Banking. He heads up several financial institutions with a lot of money to loan out and a lot of interest coming in. I want no part of it. I never wanted to touch the trust, but when Alexis Turned you, I couldn’t think about anything else. I wanted a way to take care of you and Lana.” He rolled on his side and rested his head on the palm of his hand. “I need a pack under me, Morgan. Do you understand the reasons why?”

  “Yes. Wolf needs a job, a big one, to calm him. It’s important and scary, everything that’s happening, but I think it’s what you need to feel more unified with Wolf.” He and his inner animal hadn’t seen eye to eye since he’d been Changed, and now Wolf was a separate voice in Grey’s head. One who encouraged violence and chaos. She traced the knuckles of his hand. “Greyson Crawford, trust fund baby.”

  He narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Stop it.”

  Grabbing his hand so he wouldn’t roll away, she grinned. “I just never expected this. Why the hell were
you living in that dumpy apartment? It smelled like fleas and giardia. You could’ve afforded to buy six thousand air fresheners for that moldy old building.”

  “I happened to like that apartment, and I already told you I didn’t want to touch the money unless I had to. Did you like the land?”

  Oh, her answer mattered. The look in his eyes said he was hanging on her words. “It was all right.”

  “What?”

  Laughter peeled from her. “I love it. If you’d Changed, I would’ve stayed a wolf all day just to run every square inch of your territory with you. It’s beautiful, Greyson. Just perfect.”

  He ran the pad of his finger down her cheek and opened his mouth to say something, but his cell phone trilled from his back pocket and they both hunched against the shrill noise. He checked the screen and chuckled. “Hello Rachel,” he answered. His eyes lit up with happiness as he flipped onto his back and pulled Morgan into the crook of his arm. “Yep, she’s here. She and Lana will be the first in my new pack. Tell Dean he’s shit out of luck. No silver wolf for the Dallas pack. She’s all mine.”

  Rachel’s laugh sounded from the tiny speaker and Morgan snuggled in closer, fiddling absently with the hard ridges of his flexed stomach through the threadbare shirt he’d put on during her little play-and-pee on his land earlier. Tracing each rigid muscle, she counted eight separate and defined abs. His hips tapered into loose jeans, and she ran her nail against the indentations there. Mercy, the man was something sexy.

  The phone beeped as Grey hung up, and he went still as a statue. “Woman,” he growled. “You keep doing that and I’m not going to be able to give you the space you need.”

  When she looked up, his eyes burned like the sun with the hungriest expression she’d ever seen. Equal parts fear and desire filled her with a warmth that rocked her hips closer to him.

  “Morgan,” he warned.

  The vision of her panicking like a lunatic outside when he’d kissed her earlier doused her like a cold shower and she log-rolled away. Fine. She’d ease into intimacy, but she didn’t have to be gracious about it. Stomping like a tiny, pissed-off elephant, she threw open the bedroom door and screamed when she ran into a wall of sexy man chest. Great goodness, he was fast. And when in hell had he taken off his shirt?

  “Are you pouting?” he asked with the most irritating grin. She wanted to claw it off.

  “No,” she said grumpily. “I’m actually glad we aren’t going to fool around because that sounds super boring and—”

  His lips crashed onto hers and she rocketed backward in his arms. He lifted her, light as air, and tossed her on the bed. “You think you’re ready to fool around then?” His chest was heaving and his voice ragged. That playful smile from a moment ago didn’t exist anymore. In its place was desire.

  Her breath hitched as she tried to remember how to breathe when he stalked closer. Scrambling backward, she squeaked, “I changed my mind.”

  Latching a stony grip on her ankle, he dragged her to the edge of the bed and pressed her into it with his bodyweight. “Feel.” He yanked her hand to his jeans.

  His length was hard, beckoning her to stroke, but she froze. Flashes of Montana, of the chain around her neck and of the psychotic asshole, Marshall, pulling her legs apart, clawed at her. Grey had saved her, but panic in tight spaces was now a constant companion.

  “You think you’re ready for this?” Grey asked.

  Shaking her head, she turned to stone under his fierce lips. Gripping her hair, he rasped, “I know you aren’t. I’m not keeping my distance because I don’t want you, Morgan. I’m giving you the space you need. Don’t torture us both. Come to me when you’re ready.”

  His weight disappeared and he stood above her with his back turned, his hand held out.

  When her body started functioning again, she slid her palm into his and he pulled her up. “I’m not putting you off because I don’t love you. I’m putting you off because I do.”

  Fighting an epic blush, Morgan followed Grey back downstairs where he showed her the rest of the house. The kitchen, with its stainless steel appliances and huge natural wood island, looked like it belonged in a home decorating catalogue. The dining room with its oversized table and chairs made out of deer antlers gave it a rustic, mannish feel. This house was the perfect balance of feminine and masculine. The study boasted a computer desk and bookshelf with Grey’s first three werewolf lore texts. The screened-in sunroom had comfortable chairs and benches for lounging. He led her through the living room to a second wing of the house with three guest bedrooms, showing her which one Marissa had picked out.

  As minutes passed, and she saw how much care had gone into preparing a home for her and Lana, months of strain lifted from her. Her mate hadn’t balked at her return after so long. In fact, he couldn’t quite seem to keep the glorious smile from his achingly beautiful lips. She affected him as he did her, and his careful caresses and touches healed something that had fractured the day she’d given her engagement ring back. This place he’d created with her in mind had settled the questions she’d harbored about his reasons for wanting to marry her. She’d thought he pitied her and felt guilt over the brutal way she had been Turned. She’d thought he saw marrying her as his duty, so he could protect the silver wolf. Her assumptions had all been wrong. What he’d created here proved it. His love for her rivaled her churning, endless feelings for him.

  And listening to him talk in that easy way of his that he only did with her, she knew she’d been right coming back to make things work.

  For the first time in months, she could breathe again.

  Chapter 3

  Marissa set a plate of cake in front of Morgan and sank into the chair beside her. It was a warm day, but not too hot to spend time on the sprawling porch watching Lana play.

  “You swear you don’t care if Grey initiates me first?” she asked the girl.

  Marissa looked at her with guileless green eyes and shook her strawberry blonde waves. “For the hundredth time, ya crazy. I don’t care. I’m just glad to be getting away from Logan and Jason. And besides, my wolf is way too submissive to hold second in the pack.”

  Morgan chuckled and speared a piece of the cake with a plastic fork. “Grey is going to have his hands full. Packs rarely have two females, and all he has are ladies.” She stifled a groan when the sweet flavors burst in her mouth.

  Marissa propped her feet on an empty chair. “Tell me about it. I’m calling it right now. He is going on a maiming spree the first Summit we ever go to.”

  “Nope,” Morgan said around the bite of cake. “He said he wasn’t going to subject any of us to Summit. He said, and I quote, ‘There’s no way I’m flouncing a silver wolf in front of hundreds of horny werewolves.’ End quote.”

  The door to the woodshop swung open and Grey sauntered out holding an armload of scrap wood. It would have bent a weaker man over, but he made it look like he was taking paper out to the recycling.

  Marissa squinted at him and pulled her sunglasses down from the crown of her head. “He has a point, you know.” She swung her gaze to meet Morgan’s. “You smell different to me. If I can smell Silver Wolf, it has to be ten times more potent to males. Probably best we don’t go. Don’t get me wrong, Grey would take them all down, but it isn’t best for werewolf numbers, you savvy?”

  Grey’s eyes landed on Morgan and froze her in place. No way the red velvet deliciousness threatening to plop out of her mouth would taste better than his lips right now. With a secret smile, he disappeared back into the workshop.

  She had added his hand-carved wooden recipe boxes to her website, and the response had been immediate. Orders had flooded in so quickly, she had to start a waiting list. They were already booked for the next three months, so Grey spent a lot of time working. After his chronic struggle to fit into the human workplace, it seemed he had found his niche. He obviously loved the work, and with the house already paid for, they could provide for living expenses
and bills with the income they were making from the sales. It suited Grey perfectly since he never had to meet a customer. He handled questions over the phone and email, and three days a week, he drove into town and shipped the recipe boxes out. Clients would never know they dealt with a werewolf who loved howling at the moon and had a tendency to eat squirrels.

  Tearing her eyes away from the woodshop, Morgan said, “You’re officially fourteen years old now. Are you having a good birthday?”

  “I am. It’ll be even better when Rachel gets off work, though. I’m starving.”

  Morgan snorted. “You’re always starving.” Keeping a werewolf’s appetite satisfied was a full-time job. “I asked Rachel what your favorite kind of cake was. She said she was making it for the celebration tonight, but she gave me your second choice.”

  “I love red velvet. My mom used to make it when I was little. I can’t get enough of Rachel’s coconut cake either. I think I have a sweet tooth.”

  “Was your mom good at baking?”

  “Good at baking, terrible at cooking. We ate pizza and sandwiches a lot.” Marissa stared off into the woods, but her focus seemed somewhere beyond.

  “What happened to her?” Morgan asked low.

  Every muscle in Marissa’s body tensed and she clutched the arms of the chair until her knuckles shone white. “Grey didn’t tell you?”

  “He said it wasn’t his story to tell. If you don’t want to tell me, I understand. I don’t like to talk about what happened to my sister, either.”

  “We were kidnapped by a man named Raul. He liked little girls, so Mom wasn’t his type. He toted her around for a while, but—” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “He would touch me and call me his mate, and Mom went after him one night.” She shrugged the admission away. “He killed her and kept me.”

  “Oh, my God, Marissa.” Morgan blinked back tears. “You didn’t see him kill her, did you?”

  A nod and Morgan’s heart broke into pieces. “Was he a werewolf?”