Either her feelings mattered to him, or their love would blink out quicker than the tiniest flame.
Ͼ
Eva did not look forward to what she had to do. Now that they were safe—at least, safer than they had been the past couple months—she knew her time was up.
Standing alone in the room designated hers, she took one final glance around. Aaron had taken particular care of her tastes, it seemed; the bed was enormous, perfect for her height, and looked specially ordered. It made her feel smaller, and she enjoyed that. Everything else was simple and made of oak. The lamp on the nightstand was even an older style, with a fluorescent tube light that barely lit anything. It gave the room a warm, soft feel.
Were she not accustomed to her alpha, Eva might have found his attention to detail disturbing.
She shook her head, brushing hair from her face. After this, everything would change. She had to accept there was a very real chance her marriage would not survive the night.
Eva placed her hand on one of the two doors and pushed. Through this one there was an enormous bathroom, complete with a full shower and two sinks. She had to wonder if Aaron had originally planned for this to be another couple’s space. If he’d had the architecture done decades or even years ago....
She dismissed her vague curiosity and passed through to the opposite side. Eva opened that door as well. It led to Jackson’s room, and he sat on the bed removing his socks.
As soon as her husband saw her face, concern gripped his features. “Hon? What’s wrong?”
Eva sat beside him, using great care. She said nothing, just placed one palm over her lower belly and looked him in the eye.
Jackson frowned, and then followed her hand. Then he looked up sharply, and asked, “When?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “I suspected, but I didn’t get the chance to check until a couple weeks ago.”
He inhaled deeply and tore his gaze away. Then, in a strangled voice, he said, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll be a mom.”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll be a... a dad.”
Eva didn’t answer this time, allowing it to sink in. She kept a tight rein on her emotions, reminding herself that no matter how badly this could go, she would make it worse by giving anything away. If Jackson were to leave her, better to hold it all inside and deal with her feelings in private later.
Suddenly he turned and asked, “Boy or girl?”
Eva’s eyebrows shot up. “I can’t possibly know that yet.”
“When will we?” asked Jackson.
We. Hope threatened to choke her, but Eva clamped down on it as best she could. Still, some leaked out as she said, “I’ve never done this, especially as a lycan, but I’d guess at least another year.” She rested a hand on his knee. “Would it make a difference?”
“No,” breathed Jackson, an awed look flooding his dark eyes. “But I hope she looks like you.”
Eva couldn’t help it. She turned her head and quickly covered her mouth, hating the tears that tried to work their way out. Crying was for pathetic little girls, she remembered her mother telling her.
Yet her husband grabbed her by the shoulders, turning Eva so he could kiss her. Then he went in again, and again, and finally she lowered her hand so their lips could meet. Jackson lingered there, wrapping his arms around her. Though Eva could hardly say so, she loved how safe they made her feel.
Jackson grinned sheepishly as they parted. “I’m sorry, hon. This is probably confusing.”
“A little,” she admitted.
“I love you,” he said sincerely. “And I love our kid.” He blinked, and then groaned. “Three to five years. Damn it, Eva, we’ll be waiting forever.”
She lowered her eyes but kept her voice firm. “I can wait.”
“I can, too. I will,” he assured her rapidly. “But... damn it, that really feels like forever. What about names? Have you thought of anything?”
A small smile curved her lips. “Not yet.”
“I like Sheila for a girl, and Anthony for a boy.”
Eva shot him a silencing look, though he hardly seemed to notice. “Jackson,” she said quietly. “I’m excited, too, but for now can we just enjoy the moment?”
He nodded, taking one of her hands in his and guiding it to her stomach. Jackson’s grip was overly warm, and he continued to hold her close. Leaning his forehead against her shoulder, he said with soft joy, “From now on, yes. Whatever you and our child needs.”
Eva nuzzled into him, pleased yet drained. He wasn’t angry. In spite of their earlier arguments, he seemed excited for this.
For the second time in her life, Eva felt pure, wonderful peace.
Chapter Twenty
Holden parked in his old spot, right to the side of the house. The FOR SALE sign was still up, and the building remained abandoned. When he got out of the car, clutching the gifts in his left hand, none of the others joined him. Owen remained in the passenger side, and the girls sat quietly in the rear seats. Even Laelia was perfectly silent for once.
He made his way toward the back. There lay a pile of sand that had been recently dug up and then returned atop the body of his deceased girlfriend. Holden had wanted to bury her beside Sage and Nadine, but they had dug deep and then scattered the sand on their burials. Locating them had been difficult even with sharpened lycan senses.
Today, he thought grimly, he’d have to do it again. These graves were not shallow, but Lacey’s was still obvious. In order to protect himself and his pack, Holden would have to hide all signs of her resting place.
The thought tore him up inside and brought stinging tears to his eyes.
Blinking furiously, Holden knelt beside the mound. With his free hand he numbly shoveled sand to the side. Then he dug until he had a hole about six inches deep.
Holden uncurled his left hand and stared at the ribbons. Lacey had lovingly fashioned them into jewelry. She’d adored them at one point; had seen them as a sign that they were meant to be together.
He’d screwed that up plenty.
Holden exhaled. He gingerly placed them into the hole: the choker, the bracelet with Sage’s charm, a simpler bracelet, and a pair of earrings. Painful nostalgia threatened to sweep him over the edge. For one horrid moment, Holden fantasized about burying himself beside her.
But it passed, and he covered the jewelry. Once he was certain everything was packed down, Holden made sure to kick the remaining sand about until it looked like the rest of the desert. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but that didn’t bother him. The area looked more natural, and in no time the desert’s beasts would unknowingly aid him.
For a moment he stood in limbo. Holden felt he should say something, perhaps give some sort of eulogy, but what words could possibly encompass all his errors?
Finally, he just mumbled, “I’m sorry, Lacey. I never deserved you.”
And that was it. Holden kicked at the sand one more time and made his way back to the car. The engine was still running, so once he buckled in they drove back through Wells and toward Reno.
As they neared the city, Owen said, “I’m sorry.”
Holden nodded once.
With a sigh, Owen glanced at the women and then turned to his alpha again. “What now?”
“I don’t know,” said Holden mutely.
In the back, Laelia murmured, “If the baby is a girl, we can name her Lacey.”
Holden went rigid. But before he could say anything, a loud slap resounded. Then Carly said in a surprisingly loud voice, “Shut the hell up!”
Laelia started to argue, but Holden stated firmly, “Thank you, Carly.” That silenced Laelia. In the rear view mirror he watched her slink down in her seat with a long pout. Pink stained one side of her face.
Carly turned toward him and caught his eye in the reflection. She spoke with deep remorse. “Holden, I should be the one apologizing. It’s my fault this—that Lacey’s—I’m so sorry.”
Quietly, he replied, “Lacey did it to herself. Though I hope you learned something from it.”
Carly whimpered a weak agreement.
After a moment of silence, Owen said, “Can I make a suggestion?”
“For what?” asked Holden. Exhaustion dragged his voice down.
“I think Aaron needs to pay,” said Owen determinedly. “There was no reason for any of that. He only did it to hurt you.”
He did it to teach me a lesson, thought Holden numbly. That always seemed to be Aaron’s motivation.
Aloud he said, “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” insisted Owen. “Look, maybe not right now, but he can’t get away with this. Lacey was ours. We didn’t know her long, but she was our pack. And I bet you anything, hearing what you said, she would have forgotten all about her reasons for going there and moved on.”
He knew Owen was trying to be comforting, but guilt pierced Holden’s heart. “Hm.”
“I agree,” said Maryanne with her soft intensity. “From what you both told us, it sounded like Aaron only killed her after you made it clear she was your priority. That’s not a point to make. That’s revenge.”
“Well,” said Holden stiffly. “I suppose I set the bar for that.”
Even Carly protested. “But only against people who wronged you. Lacey was harmless. You’d never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”
He fought a wince and tried to avoid looking at her. Vera floated to the forefront of his mind once more. Damn it, why did Carly have to look so much like her?
Karma, he decided bleakly. He was paying for murdering Rachael’s best friend even after all these years.
Owen frowned and tried to bring the subject back to his idea. “So, look. Instead of staging an attack, we should approach it from a different angle.”
Holden wasn’t certain he was in the mood for this. And yet he said, “Do tell.”
Green eyes sparkled with devilish cunning. “We need to infiltrate them. Their defenses are solid, so we should attack from within.”
Curiosity bloomed inside Holden. He cast his charge a brief look.
Excitedly, Owen continued, “One of us can go in. We learn everything about them, make friends, make nice, and when the time is right, we strike.”
The idea had merit... but Holden felt too worn down to make a decision in the moment. But, he realized quickly, he was the alpha. If he wanted to keep the respect of his pack, he had to suck it up and surge forth.
“That has a lot of merit,” he said. Owen grinned at his praise. “But it’ll take some serious planning.”
Plus, he thought with a wary glance at Laelia’s sullen reflection, he had a lot more to deal. Though at times he was worn to the bone, it seemed as though there was still more he had to do. Aaron’s death remained a priority, and Holden wouldn’t rest until their bitter rivalry came to an end one way or another.
But first, he had to make sure Laelia wasn’t actually carrying his child. Because if she was, she might find herself at the top of the Grim Reaper’s list.
If she was lucky, her and that child’s death would be as painless as Lacey’s.
Owen’s voice brought him back to the conversation at hand. “We’re up for the challenge. Aren’t we, ladies?”
Holden shook his head in spite of their agreements. “I’ve lost three of my pack in just a couple months,” he reminded them. “Three of my best, three of my most loyal, and three of my strongest. Maybe it’s time you found a new alpha. This is too dangerous for me to drag others in to.”
“Who’s dragging,” scoffed Owen. “Not my feet. If I’m kicking up dust, it’s ‘cuz I’m running.” His enthusiasm was palpable enough to bring a slight smile to Holden’s mouth.
Not to be outdone, Carly insisted, “I’m in, too. We’re not like your other girls—no offense. But we’ve been at this for a while, and we’re not romantically entangled.” Owen snorted, causing her to blush, but she continued forcefully. “The only thing dragging you down was that girl. Well, you told Aaron you didn’t care anymore, right? So you’ll be stronger and more aware next time.”
“Which is wise,” murmured Maryanne. “If she survives the infection, that girl will just be a distraction.”
They were right. Holden understood that. Still, he said, “She’ll survive. She was strong enough to fight back against Lacey.” His lips parted in a grimace. “Next time we go up against them, it’ll be the five of us versus eight lycans.”
“Seven,” corrected Owen. “Rudy’s a baby. Hell, maybe even six, since someone will definitely try to protect him.”
“True.”
“So?” Owen practically bounced in his seat, his teeth flashing in a sharp grin. “We’re up for it. All that’s left is you.”
And Laelia. Though Holden knew he’d have to deal with her, lycan pregnancies lasted a long time. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder at the sulking redhead, and she immediately perked up when he did.
Holden said, “Are you in or out, Laelia?”
Her hands flew to her stomach, worried shadows dancing across her features. “But... the baby....”
“In or out?” he snapped. “None of this is about you, Laelia. We’re a pack. You help or you leave. Your choice.”
Crazily, he knew if she chose to flee then he’d have to do something about the pregnancy right there in the car. The idea left a sour taste in Holden’s mouth. He didn’t care for kids, but he also detested torture. And forcing someone to lose her child was, as far as he was concerned, about the worst torture he could imagine against a woman.
Though, if she really was carrying his child, he might have to do it anyway. Unease churned his stomach. Not for the first time, he wondered if choices like this were why Aaron had become such a detestable person. What had he been like prior to becoming an alpha?
He roughly shook the thoughts off, cursing himself. Who cared about Aaron’s past? What mattered were the atrocities he committed now.
Behind him, Laelia chewed noisily on her lip. She glanced around to the others for help, but nobody came to her aid. Finally, she mumbled, “I’m in. You know I am.” Then her eyes became sharp, and she stared him down in the mirror’s reflection. “I love you.”
Owen rolled his eyes, thankfully out of her view. While Holden agreed, he just nodded as he took the first turn off the highway and into a city darkened by fat, dusky clouds.
“Heads up,” he said quietly, allowing a smile to lift the corner of his mouth. “It’s about to get stormy.”
Read further for a sneak peek of the sequel,
Lycan
WITHIN
Lycan WITHIN
(Moonlight Wars, book 3)
Back in her room—which was thankfully empty—Rachael wrapped her hair up in the towel and went rummaging through her dresser for a change of clothes. She pulled open the drawer for her bras, grabbed one—and then froze.
Quickly she put it back, but Aaron was behind her within an instant. His button-up shirt remained open and loose. The scars detailing his long, sometimes violent history momentarily distracted her.
“Problem?” asked Aaron with silken danger.
“No,” she lied.
He frowned and nudged her aside. When he lifted the remains of what had once been a sweet pastel blue bit of lingerie, Aaron’s mouth pulled unpleasantly. He glanced inside the drawer and said flatly, “They are all cut.”
Rachael groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I guess I can go without for a while,” she mumbled. The thought wasn’t ideal; her breasts weren’t big enough that they were exactly necessary, but Rachael had long outgrown the days where she felt comfortable being around her brother without much-preferred support for her chest.
Aaron said nothing and continued to sort through the drawer. Then he pulled out a long, sharp pair of scissors. His eyes narrowed.
She knew that look. “Aaron, don’t.”
Icily, he said, “I will help him lose his other eye.”
&nb
sp; “Don’t,” she argued, wrapping her fingers around the implement and carefully disengaging it from her boyfriend’s grasp. “That won’t help anyone.” When he remained unconvinced, Rachael quickly added, “We just had such a wonderful time. If you go out threatening him now, he’ll just feel like he won.”
Aaron clenched his jaw but nodded shortly. He closed the drawer. “The next time I visit topside I shall buy you more.”
Relieved she’d talked him out of an uproar, Rachael said, “No more black. I loved the white ones.”
He shot her a look. “What is wrong with black?”
“I look awful,” she protested. “Maybe it works for you, but it makes me look sick.”
Aaron snorted, but he seemed to relax a little once more. “I love you, but you have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Please tell me more about how you know better than me what suits me,” she said wryly.
With a smirk, Aaron said, “Only one of us has lived through multiple changes in the fashion industry, my dear.”
Lightly, Rachael smacked him on the arm for his condescending nickname. “I think I choose just fine for myself, thank you very much.”
“Perhaps not. You chose me.”
She searched his gaze for any signs of bitterness and found none. “Exactly,” she said softly. “I think I do just fine.”
His expression lightened a touch. Aaron shook his head in amusement before reaching down to button his shirt. “Your questionable taste is my good fortune,” he said.
Rachael rolled her eyes but allowed him to have the last word. Her panties were, thank God, untouched. She slipped on a pair and followed them up with shorts and a tank top. Quickly she realized she wasn’t going to be comfortable walking around quite that exposed, and she went to her walk-in closet to add a fitted button-down of her own. Unlike her boyfriend, she only fastened the middle.
“So when’s your next run up?” she asked, searching for a hair tie.
Aaron sat atop her bed, pulling his shoes back on without looking at her. “Eva is to take a turn in three days.”
Pact of the Pack Page 22
