“Mine.”
She jumped at the noise, and he cursed himself as the worst kind of monster. Why could he never get himself under control when he was around Lake? Living with the beast was one thing; terrifying his mate constituted issue altogether.
“This isn’t your house?”
“What?” He looked around the room. “No. You thought I lived here?”
“You don’t?”
This conversation seemed to be rapidly getting out of hand.
“No. This is the second home of a friend to the pack. A human, named Fred Conner. He loaned it to me so I could take care of you last night since I didn’t have a car and you needed to be carried.”
“Oh.”
It took him a minute to realize what had happened.
“You can’t smell things like you should. You think it’s part of this losing-your-wolf nonsense. Otherwise, you’d know my scent is not here, other than trace amounts from the last eight hours.”
She nodded so he sat down next to her. After a second, he pulled her into his arms to hold her, and she didn’t object. Wolves needed lots of touch. No way had Lake received affection or care from the True Believers. His stomach clenched at the thought.
“Lake.”
She burrowed her head into his chest. “I’m glad you don’t live here. I hate this couch.”
He looked down at it, having not given the furniture one minute of thought. Ever.
“It is kind of old.”
“Tacky.”
“Tacky?” Beaux had no idea if it was or it wasn’t, and he didn’t care either way. “Did they abuse you? I mean, I know they hurt you, did things to you, all of that is abuse. I want to know if they raped you.”
Touched you. Molested you. Put their hands in places where no one should be except me.
She shook her head. “No. They didn’t touch me sexually.”
“Okay.”
He sniffed her hair, bringing more of her scent into his blood because it comforted him to do so. She was alive. She would be whole.
“They’re still all going to die.”
She didn’t answer, and he looked down. Lake was out cold. This time, he hoped it would be a healing sleep. Please, mother and father Moon, take care of her.
****
The ride back to his home was mostly silent. Other than a few small questions from John about Lake’s health when he’d first arrived, they’d not had conversation. Beaux preferred the silence.
Breathing deeply, Lake never stirred from where she slept, stretched out in the back seat. She hadn’t woken when he put her in the car.
When they were about ten minutes from home, John spoke quietly. “The pack is anxious to meet her. I mean, I guess, meet her again. We all saw her last night. Particularly the women. It will be so nice to have your mate here at last.”
“Yes.” He looked back at her. Lake had a lot of recovering to do before he asked her for anything. Beaux had run things on his own a long time. He’d continue to do so until Lake wanted to take over her part.
“She’s a Healer, too, which is such a gift.” John smiled. “The Moon has smiled on you, my Alpha, and upon all of us through you.”
Beaux nodded. He didn’t want to give anything away verbally, although his anxiety had to be out there to be scented. John must be nearly drowning in from the hours in the car.
“She’s not feeling well.”
John drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “That’s to be expected.”
“Right.”
Beaux had kept quite a bit to himself when he’d listened to Lake. She didn’t need the stress, and, given her feelings about the predetermination of the moon, he didn’t want to bring up the sore subject again for a while. He rubbed at his forehead. Shouldn’t he be pushing it? She needed to get on the same page with him fast. Why did he feel so inclined to simply let her be?
His doubts about the best time to discuss her relationship with the moon and about his ability to not chicken out like the worst kind of coward, accounted for why he hadn’t told her what he suspected. Lake, who had objected to the idea of any predetermination, might not like hearing that what was happening sounded— almost to a tee— their oral histories concerning the Healer Prime. He glanced in the rearview mirror. She wouldn’t like it at all. And the longer he sat with the idea, the less he wanted it for her.
How would he keep her safe? How would he make sure she was protected when she had no shielding? No ability to stop herself from calling upon her healing power whenever she encountered a werewolf needing it.
All those children. She couldn’t save them, and yet she felt their pain still. Damn it.
“Sir?” John called his attention as they approached his home.
The entire pack lived on the compound, although, for safety, they held pack meetings miles away on another smaller plot of land with one main building on it.
“Don’t mind me, John. I’m lost in thought. Can you send the dominants over later? I’m going to have to call a meeting of some Alphas.” He supposed he’d have to include Cyrus, which made him want to snarl. “I’ll want to go over some security measures.”
He hated having to talk about safety. Part of his pack embracing the old ways meant they left each other to simply be when they needed it. For the next weeks, he was going to have to ask them to step back into the world they’d all chosen to leave.
Werewolf intrigue and human politics. He shuddered at the thought.
This time, Lake stirred when he lifted her. She blinked awake, stretching her arms over her head. “Did we take a whole ride? I don’t remember getting into the car.”
“You slept through all of it. Lake, this is John, he came and got us.”
“Thank you so much.”
She nodded at John and extended her hand to shake it. Beaux’s pack mate stared at the outstretched offering for a while before he grinned and shook fast.
“You’re welcome, ma’am. I’ll see you both soon, I hope.”
Lake walked steadily, and he didn’t have to help her. Still, he stayed close in case her legs buckled. Or maybe he wanted to witness her reaction when she saw her new home for the first time.
“Why did he get so excited when we shook hands?”
“You did him a great honor. The Alpha’s mate touched him. That’s a pretty big deal.”
“In New York, we do it as a general greeting. All the time. With each other. With humans. Whatever. Betsy shakes hands with everyone. It’s not a big thing, I guess.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Use your werewolf brain. He’s going to have your scent on him for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, too, if he doesn’t bathe.”
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “Why would anyone want to hold onto my scent overnight?”
“Because you’re their Alpha’s mate, Lake.”
“Huh.”
What did her sound mean? He’d never been particularly good at understanding women. One of the things he had liked about his wife was she had been pretty simple for a woman. Sara hadn’t engaged in a lot of game playing. She’d said what she needed and he tried to get it for her.
Lake confused him almost every time she opened her mouth.
They walked up the driveway together, and she raised her head to stare at their home.
“Is this yours?”
“Ours. Yes.”
“Ours.” She sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment. I really do.”
“It’s not sentiment. It’s fact. You’re my mate.”
She shook her head but squeezed his hand in hers. What did her action mean? Why squeeze his hand if she wanted to deny his statement? She made no sense.
“Wouldn’t you prefer your pack to have an Alpha mate who could, you know, shift?”
“And so they shall again when you regain your ability to do so.”
“Who would have thought it? Beaux Nelson is an optimist.” She laughed. “The house is beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
He thought so, too, which is why he had built it. Some of it with his bare hands. It was two and a half stories, with the top half-floor nothing more than an empty room, the perfect size for a child. He’d not anticipated having kids when he had it designed. At the time, he thought of it as his reading room. Sara had died, and he’d promised himself he’d never take the plunge into relationships again unless he found his True Mate. Since he had met Lake, the room had become the nursery in his mind’s eye.
Painted red, the front of the house was supported by two large columns, and large bay windows surrounded the interior, which gave a great three hundred and sixty degree view of the grounds. Inside, the house was simply decorated. He’d never cared much for furnishings or fuss. Seeing as Lake had called Fred’s couch tacky, she might have something to say about the decorations or lack thereof. He’d be fine with her changing things. As long as she spent within reason. Money was a human problem. His werewolves invested wisely without drawing a lot of attention to themselves. His pack lived well.
They had more than enough for what they needed. Her brother wasn’t the only one who knew how to run a business. Beaux didn’t do it in the whole world’s face like some kind of show wolf.
“You’re thinking about something, and it’s making you tense.”
She’d noticed?
“Did you get your sense of smell back?”
“Sorry. It’s the way you clenched your jaw. You seem to do it periodically. I’m wondering if you do when you’re tense.”
“Whenever your brother crosses my mind, I get a little bit upset. I’ll admit it.”
“Ah.” Lake laughed, actually throwing her head back. “I see. And why pray tell are you thinking about him now?”
“I have to let him onto my territory. Unfortunately, he’s exactly the kind of help I’m going to need to find the children.”
“Bringing him on is probably not a smart move.”
They walked toward the door, and he unlocked it. She entered the room, and her eyes widened as she stared at the tall ceilings in front of her.
“Oh, Beaux. It is even more beautiful on the inside. Look at the light in here.”
He opened his mouth to answer but closed it without saying anything. His mate approved of her home. His chest swelled with pride. Beaux hadn’t known Lake when he designed this place. The fact she liked it meant they had things in common, a place to start building a relationship past simply Alpha and Mate.
The thought stopped him short. It hadn’t occurred to him he wanted Lake to like Beaux the man in addition to the Beaux the Alpha. There would always be a distinction, albeit a small one, in his case. He wasn’t an Alpha who acted one way at home and another way with his pack.
“Thanks.”
He touched the back of her elbow because he had to, and she smiled only it didn’t meet her eyes. Her cinnamon scent wavered, which spoke of unhappiness.
“Don’t bring my brother here. You need other Alphas. I get it. Not Cyrus. Not for this.”
“I find I am without words. You accused me of kidnapping you when I said I wouldn’t let him come here. Has something changed?”
Could he be so lucky? She took one nap and changed her mind?
She nodded. “He’s not a tracker. He’s a Warrior. Use him in the end if you want. Don’t expect him to have any ideas to help now.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
She rubbed his arms. “You’re going to find the children. I won’t have anything getting in the way of your mission. I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal.”
He raised his eyebrow. “A deal?”
His mate wanted to make a deal with him? Highly irregular.
“Depends, I suppose.”
“If you find the children, I’ll stay with you. Assuming you still want me then.”
A slow creeping rage climbed his spine. He tried to ignore the feeling even as it rose despite his best effort.
“You aren’t going to stay with me because of some deal, Mate. You’re going to stay because we’re True Mates and you’ll want to. I don’t make deals like the one you’re suggesting. I’ll find the children because doing so happens to be the right thing. I’ll keep you safe because you belong to me.” He leaned over and breathed her in deep, hoping it would calm him. It didn’t. “Have I made myself clear?”
Chapter Four
Well, she had really stepped into trouble this time. Lake leaned up against the headboard of the bed in the room where Beaux had left her. She drummed her fingers on her knees. They’d been getting along pretty well up until she’d offended him with a deal to stay together.
Of course, she’d mostly been unconscious since her rescue. Beaux hadn’t exactly banished her to her room, but she thought it best to stay out of sight just the same.
He’d been furious. It had been everything she could do to manage to not throw herself to the floor and apologize. Somehow she managed to resist the urge. Beaux wasn’t her Alpha.
If he didn’t like her deal, he could take his bad attitude and shove it up his ass. She took a deep breath.
He’d been nothing but kind to her, and she had repaid his thoughtfulness by being a total bitch. What else was new? Lately bitch was her go-to M.O.
A shiver ran up her body, and she rubbed her arms. A memory threatened to surface, and, like a bad dream she didn’t want, she shoved it back down. Why? She closed her eyes. Why not let herself remember? It was like she…couldn’t. What did the memory she couldn’t hold on to have to do with? A deal of some kind?
Lake tried to take a deep breath and failed. Finally she opened her eyes. What was the matter with her? Sure, she was in Montana when she’d rather be in any big city any day of the week, but for the first time in six months she was safe.
Beaux wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She didn’t know why she believed so deeply in his strength to protect her. Yet she did. He wore his power in a way she’d never experienced around other Alphas, and it wasn’t simply because she happened to find him the most sexually attractive man she’d ever met.
He possessed a solidness about him—he would never falter, never fail. Hell, she’d pounded on his body and he had yet to even comment on it.
She stood up. Her hands tingled. Something was wrong. Or maybe her bad feelings came to down to the fact that she, Lake Fennell, had gotten so seriously fucked up.
Lake walked to the window and looked down. In a million years she would never have imagined Beaux living in a place like this. When she’d first met him, she’d seen the compound the pack had. It had been pretty sparse. For some reason, she’d gotten the wrong impression they all lived inside what basically amounted to a converted warehouse. Why had she believed that?
She really had no idea. Unless outsiders only saw what Beaux wanted them to see? Lake chewed on her lip and stared out the window.
A lone figure stood on the grass staring back at her. Lake gasped and stumbled backwards. She knew him. Aaron, the head of the True Believers, second in command—they called him Arlow.
Out of everyone she encountered during her captivity, Arlow had been the most brutal. Tall, red-headed, and tattooed, he laughed when he struck her, then cackled when she cried.
What was he doing here?
“Beaux.”
Desperation made her clumsy, and she stumbled as she rushed toward the door. Her heart was in her throat.
“Beaux, they’re here.”
Fear clogged her throat. She’d brought the True Believers to his door. This was her fault. People would die, and their deaths would haunt her, like Kyra’s, forever.
“Beaux.”
She saw him seconds before his arms came around her.
“Lake, by the Moon, what’s wrong?”
Maybe it should have embarrassed her how she shook like a leaf, only she didn’t care that werewolves were brave or that she acted like such a coward. “Arlow is here.”
“Arlow?”
“He’s a big time person with the True Be
lievers. He’s here. I saw him, outside my window.”
Beaux let her go and ran to the window. He looked down.
“No one is there.”
“He was. Arlow stood right there and looked up at me from below.”
She bent over and gripped her knees. Focusing on her breath—controlling it—she needed the strength desperately and it was a battle.
“Wait here.”
“No.” She darted forward and grabbed his arm. “You can’t go out there alone. They’ll kill you.”
He shook his head and pushed her arm off his. “No one is going to hurt me, sweetheart.”
“Listen to me.”
But he was out the door before she could say anything else. She stomped her foot. A childish gesture, but she cared no more about that than she had been embarrassed by her panic attack. Why did Alpha males think they were bullet proof?
Still shaking, she ran after him as fast as she could, fully expecting to find Arlow slitting Beaux’s throat when she rounded the corner. Instead, she saw the Alpha of Montana standing by himself under the window to her bedroom. He turned when she approached.
“I told you to stay inside.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“That’s what you’re going to say? I know?”
“What did you find?”
She walked toward him, her eyes darting around. Was Arlow hiding in the nearby trees? Had he taken off running?
“Nothing.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “There is no scent of anyone here.”
No, what he said was impossible. She had seen the man outside. He had been staring up at her window.
“Beaux. I saw Arlow. He is here. Somewhere. Please, come in the house or look for him, if you must, just don’t stand here out in the open where you’re such a target.”
His eyes flared wolf for a second. Was there a rhyme or reason for when the eye shifts happened? Would she ever know? Did it matter? He needed to get inside to safety.
“I appreciate the sentiment, She-wolf, although I wish you believed I could take care of myself.”
Beaux shook his head and his eyes returned to their normal shade.