by Juniper Hart
“Nothing like that,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “My life has been very much an uphill battle since… well, for a long time. Romance hasn’t been high on my list, and the thought of having children when I can barely afford to take care of myself is insurmountable, really.”
She didn’t want to think about it, to sound whiny and ungrateful, not when Marcel had already sacrificed so much for her. A glimmer of respect shone in Marcel’s eyes.
“You’ve always been tenacious, Em. I’ll give you that.” She decided to take it as a compliment and felt the tips of her ears burning.
“So,” she said quickly, eager to change the subject. “What did Landon Burke tell you exactly? What else do you know that I don’t?”
“Again, not a great deal,” Marcel answered, sitting back. “Gabriel created his own pack not long before he turned you and three other women. I don’t think I need to tell you how many things are wrong with that.”
Emily was aware that turning mortals into Lycans was illegal, according to guidelines of the Council of Seven. Turning mortals against their will was illegal. Creating a pack of his own was illegal. Gabriel could be put to death for any single infraction. He was a dead wolf walking.
“The people he turned are all convicted criminals and deviant masterminds in their own fields,” Marcel went on. “From what I know of it, there is an assassin, a hacker wanted by the FBI, several robbers of varying degrees, and two military figures who suffered from severe PTSD to the point that they killed members of their own families. They are not a pretty bunch.”
“And the women? Why did he choose the women?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, and I don’t know who the others are, either. All I know for certain is that Gabriel wants you back.”
“Again, why doesn’t he just turn more women instead of running around looking for us?”
“He can’t,” Marcel explained. “Landon has enlisted Lane, the most powerful Aldwin and witch of the Enchanted, to cast a spell on Gabriel and his pack to ensure they can’t turn any more mortals. The pack must be hunted down and destroyed before they can wreak any more havoc on the Enchanted world.”
A shiver of apprehension slithered through Emily. “Aren’t the women part of the pack?”
“No,” Marcel said flatly. “At least, you’re not. You will be inducted into mine. That won’t stop Gabriel for coming for you, but it will keep you safe from the Council’s execution order.”
Goosebumps covered Emily’s body. Execution order. Turning mortals. I would have loved this as a child.
“What does that mean for me now, Marcel?” she asked softly. “Am I a prisoner?” His mouth parted, and a flash of hurt sprang through his eyes.
“Of course not,” he growled. “You’re under my protection.”
“But that means I can’t leave, doesn’t it?” Marcel turned his head away slightly, and Emily’s heart began to pound in her chest wildly.
“No,” he said, surprising her. “It just means we need to teach you how to fight.”
7
Marcel rose from his desk and hurried to close the door to the study, unsure if Emily was on the second floor or not.
“Landon, I’m just telling you what’s going on,” he sighed, resenting the councilman’s tone. “Emily has a life in New York. She can’t stay here forever.” No matter how much I might want that for her.
For three days, they had remained hunkered inside his home, pretending that the outside world didn’t exist. Emily didn’t know it, but he had been prodding her gently, trying to get her to remember what had happened the night she was turned. In turn, he had taught her how to tap into her telepathy, and slowly, she was learning to read his mind.
“You need to be careful,” he had warned her. “You can’t go around tapping into anyone’s subconscious. The more powerful will always know when they’re being probed, and you’ll be asking for trouble if they find out you’re snooping where you’re not supposed to be.”
“What will they do?” Emily asked, an awed fear on her face.
“Just stick to reading my mind for now,” he instructed, chuckling. “I’m not sure how anyone else will react, okay?”
Each day, it was clear that they were growing to trust one another more, the bond they’d developed in high school becoming a real connection, and Marcel was beginning to realize that he’d always had feelings for Emily. He’d just pushed them aside, knowing that they could never be anything. Now, though, everything had changed.
Landon’s voice brought him back to the present. “Your duty is to protect Emily, Marcel. I can’t force you to keep her under lock and key, of course, but if anything happens to her, it’s on your head. I’m not telling you that she has to stay. I’m just warning you about the dangers now that Gabriel has seen her. I’m sure he has her in his sights. It’s only a matter of time before he resurfaces and tries to grab her again. When he does, I expect you to subdue him.”
“Wait, what?” Marcel demanded. “I’m supposed to take him on, too?”
“Your job is to protect Emily,” Landon repeated. “The best way to do that is by taking out Gabriel. Do I really need to explain that to you?”
Marcel gritted his teeth together and kept his mind blank. “Nope.”
“Good. Thanks for the update. We’ll be in touch.” Landon disconnected the call, leaving Marcel fuming as he perched on the edge of his desk. A gentle knock on the door captured his attention.
“Come in, Em.” She poked her head through the doorway, and he saw the shadow in her face instantly.
“I have a problem,” she murmured. “My boss wants me back in New York right away. He says I’ve been gone long enough, and I’m not getting my story.” Marcel sighed and folded his arms over his broad chest as she ventured in further.
“That’s not really a surprise, is it?” he asked. “You knew this was coming from the first night.”
“I don’t understand what happened to Patricia Hutton,” she muttered, ambling toward him. She joined his side, sliding herself up onto the sleek wooden desk beside him. She’d taken it upon herself to order a few new things while she stayed, and her perfectly curved frame was hugged into a thigh length pencil skirt and V-neck silk blouse with short sleeves.
Gods, she looks amazing in red, Marcel thought, his eyes trailing down along the defined lines of her calves.
“I can’t believe my break fizzled just like that,” Emily continued, exhaling. “So strange.”
Marcel cast her a sidelong look and waited for her to continue, but she seemed lost in thought. Finally, she turned her eyes toward him, her mouth turned inward at the corners.
“Can I go back to New York?” she asked, making him bristle.
“You’re not a prisoner!” he snapped with more anger than he meant. “If you want to go, then go!” Hurt colored her face, and she looked at him in shock.
“It’s not about ‘wanting’ to go,” she said. “It’s about what we should do.” His body relaxed at the word ‘we,’ and he exhaled.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, darting his eyes away. “This entire situation has me on edge. I just got off the phone with Landon, and he’s not helping matters, either.” A hand softly touched his arm, and he raised his head to meet her gaze.
“We don’t need Landon to get through this,” Emily told him. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
Their eyes locked, and Marcel felt a flow of heat surge through him as he read the naked wistfulness in her eyes.
She’s struggling with whether or not to kiss me, he realized, even without reading her thoughts. But she was reading his, and her fingers curled deeper into the flesh of his arm, pulling him toward her. He squared his body to align it with hers, his hands reaching up to cup her face.
“We’ve got this,” he agreed, his voice a husky whisper before dipping his lips onto hers. His chest pressed against hers, and her thighs rose against the desk to draw him closer.
Emily’s arms snaked up around his back,
and the beats of their racing hearts synched as their embrace tightened. Tongues jutted out to explore the lines of mouths they had always secretly longed to know, and Marcel exhaled, dropping his face along the curve of her cheeks, taking in her sweet scent with relish.
I can’t let her go, he thought suddenly, the notion filling him with a fear he’d never known. She’s always been my mate, even before she could have been.
Emily sighed as Marcel’s mouth breathed across the gentle slope of her chin, his kisses growing hotter as they found the swell of her breasts. His hands eased up the hem of her skirt, and he slowly guided her back along the desk, carelessly sweeping the papers and pens out of her way as he trailed along her body. He stopped to sample every crevice, memorizing it. It was like he had already been there before, if only in his dreams.
Emily’s sighs became small moans of pleasure, her legs rising up to drape over his muscled shoulders as her lace panties landed on the floor.
“I think I’ve always had a little bit of a crush on you,” she purred while Marcel began his expedition of her most intimate spots. A short gasp and the tensing of her body told him that he was finding precisely the places he sought, and in minutes, Emily had entwined her fingers through his hair, and her body responded to his touch.
Sweat and desire sweeping through them, Marcel raised himself back up and stared into Emily’s face, their eyes melding together.
“Take me,” she begged. Marcel didn’t need to be told again, and he meshed his wanting form into hers.
A low, guttural groan filled the study, and Emily clamped around him, drawing him inside her as deeply as he would go. They found their rhythm easily and without awkwardness, like they had been together before.
We will be together forever, Marcel thought, his thrusts growing harder and deeper with the thought. Emily nodded as if she’d heard him, and it was all he could do to wait for her release before he permitted himself to do the same. In unison, they reached their climax, and their cries echoed through the room and reverberated through the house.
Marcel fell heavily on top of her as he struggled to catch his breath, and Emily lowered her legs from around his shoulders, her body quivering like a barrel of water over a loudspeaker.
“Are you okay?” he asked tenderly, looking into her face. A fuzzy smile formed over her lips.
“I guess,” she joked, making him snicker. Marcel reluctantly disentangled himself from her body. Gently, he traced the lines of her face with his fingertips before reaching for his pants.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested suddenly. Emily stared at him in shock.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, get dressed. I’m taking you on a proper date.”
“Is that a good idea, Marcel?” she asked worriedly, righting herself against the desk. She slid down and adjusted her clothes to watch him pensively.
“I can’t think of a better way to see where we stand with Gabriel than to get out there and see if he resurfaces.” Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Are you suggesting we use me as bait?” she asked slowly, and he choked.
“Of course not!” he snapped. “I would never let anything happen to you, Emily. You’re my priority.”
The doorbell echoed through the house, and Marcel froze for a moment, biting on his lower lip.
“Are you expecting someone?” Emily asked nervously.
“No.” He moved toward his desk and looked at the security cameras. He groaned aloud.
“Who is it?”
“No one to be worried about,” Marcel sighed. “Come with me. It’s time to introduce you to your new pack.”
“Wait, what?”
But he was already hurrying down the spiral staircase toward the front door as it rang a second time. Snaz glared at him when he opened the door.
“What the hell, Marcel?” he howled, storming into the house. “You left me alone all weekend at the club and couldn’t even be bothered to answer your phone? I thought you were dead or—” Snaz abruptly stopped talking as Emily slid down the stairs, looking nervously at the newcomer.
“It’s okay, Emily,” Marcel said. “Emily, this is Snaz, my business partner. Snaz, this is Emily.”
Disbelief shone on Snaz’s face, and he gaped at the pair.
“You’ve been getting laid all weekend?” he rasped. “While I’ve been working?”
“It’s not like that,” Marcel insisted, looking apologetically at Emily. “Emily is about to be initiated into our pack.” The information did nothing to alleviate the look of skepticism or disgust on Snaz’s face.
“May I have a word with you, partner?” Snaz hissed. Again, Marcel cast Emily a quick smile of apology.
“Take your time,” Emily chirped. “I’ll make dinner reservations.” Marcel knew she was being sarcastic, but he didn’t have a chance to respond as Snaz yanked him into the back hallway leading to the kitchen.
“Does this have anything to do with Landon Burke coming on Friday? Because you’ve been off the grid since then.”
“Everything is fine,” Marcel told him, unsure of how much he should disclose to his friend. He was already sure that the pack wouldn’t necessarily handle news of a newcomer well, and he didn’t want to fuel the potential for an uprising by explaining that he had been ordered to bring Emily in. Not that that was the reason he was doing it anymore. He wanted Emily with him at all costs. He just hoped it wouldn’t cost him everything.
“Marcel, you can’t just bring a new pack member in! Not without proper initiation!”
“Are you really telling me what I can’t do?” Marcel’s voice was frigid. “My pack, my rules, Snaz. I am your leader first, your friend second. Don’t forget that.”
Snaz balked, and he lowered his gaze. The expression on his face was reminiscent of the one Marcel had given Landon days earlier.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Marcel,” Snaz muttered. “I’m telling you this as your friend and not a member of your pack: you still have Lycans in your fold who would rather see someone leading with more experience. Don’t give them a cause to overthrow you.”
Marcel’s jaw locked. “Emily is staying,” he said shortly. “And you can go.” He spun back toward the foyer to see him out, but he saw Emily’s figure lurking in the shadows and cringed to himself.
How much of that did she hear? he wondered, knowing he’d find out soon enough.
8
Me being here is causing him problems, Emily thought. I never considered that. Overhearing Marcel’s conversation with Snaz had stirred up a whole new range of emotions that she never knew she had. Suddenly, she was protective of Marcel. I need to go back to New York and leave him alone. He’s got enough to worry about without me dragging him down more.
“What are you doing?” Marcel asked. “Getting dressed for dinner, I hope.”
She spun and tried to smile, but the expression came out as more of a grimace.
“I’m getting ready to go back to New York,” she told him firmly. “I really need to get back if I want to keep my job.”
As a shitty copywriter, she mused silently.
“Yes, as a shitty copywriter,” Marcel conceded aloud, and she blushed furiously. Defensiveness sprung through her.
“Not everyone was born into luxury, Marcel. Some of us have to work really hard to get where we want to go.” She knew she was being unfair to him, and she wished she could take the words back, but she’d already committed to the argument. A part of her wondered if she wasn’t rousing the fight simply so he’d let her go without a fuss. In her heart, Emily knew she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay right at Marcel’s side, where she knew she was safe always.
“Why are you really going back to New York?” he asked quietly, and she groaned to herself, realizing he’d read her thoughts again.
“I told you even before Snaz got here. And by the way, what is Snaz short for? Snazzy?”
“Don’t change the subject, Em.”
&n
bsp; “I told you,” she said, shifting her gaze away. “Greg wants me back. I think Dustin and Sammy ratted on me about leaving with you, and now he thinks I’m using this as a vacation or something.”
“Is that the real reason?” he insisted.
“Marcel, why didn’t you tell me you were going to have problems with your pack?”
“They aren’t problems,” Marcel insisted. “Snaz is overreacting.” He sighed deeply. “Some of the members were looking forward to Ever’s rule,” he confessed. “They haven’t gotten used to the idea that I’m not going to go to war at every turn.”
“That’s more Ever’s style, huh?”
Marcel grunted. “Like I said, my pack, my rules. You will be initiated, and that’s the end of it. No matter what Snaz might think, there won’t be an uprising.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stay in Salem,” Emily told him softly, and the reality of her words sank in to her as she spoke them aloud. I really can’t. I spent my whole life trying to get out. I made a life for myself in New York, and even if it’s not as good a life as I planned, it’s still mine. I did it.
The look on Marcel’s face spoke volumes to how he was feeling, and she stifled a grunt of anger at herself. “I’m sorry, Marcel, but—”
“You don’t have to be sorry. None of this is your doing, but that doesn’t change anything. I won’t force you to stay here, obviously, but if you go back, I’m coming with you.”
Shock painted Emily’s cheeks. “What? No! You’ve already neglected work and your pack.” In her mind’s eye, she envisioned her cramped studio apartment and tried to imagine it through Marcel’s eyes.
“Sorry,” he said flatly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. If you’re going, I’m coming with you.”
They were at a stalemate, and Emily knew that no matter what she said, he would find a way to be at her side.
“All right,” she muttered, her heart fluttering slightly. Never in her life had anyone tried to care for her the way Marcel had throughout the years. He knew that she could have saved her father’s life, and yet he had never judged her for leaving that day. He never turned her in to the Council of Seven when she had cornered him for a story. He’d saved her from Gabriel doing only God knew what.
