“And I’m saying that apologizing for breaking apart our marriage isn’t going to fix it, if that’s what you’re after here. We’re never getting back together.”
Jesus, did she just quote a Taylor Swift song?
“I’m just asking for one chance, angel.”
His old pet name for her was like a point-blank shot to the chest. The old wound didn’t feel so old anymore. The ragged edges of her pain—although purely metaphorical—suddenly felt tangible. Glancing down at her chest, she checked to see whether there was a gaping hole where her heart was.
There wasn’t.
Shaking her head, Darcey wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself. “It’s too late, Zac.”
“If it’s about having a baby, I’ve changed my mind,” he pressed, taking another step closer. “If it’s about the cheating, I’ll let you cheat on me for a while. I’m sure that Oliver guy would be happy to pick up my sloppy seconds.”
He came a little closer, and she backed up a step. Although he looked like the man she used to love, there was something in his eyes that wasn’t the same. He walked up the steps of the gazebo, blocking her escape. With her pulse pounding, she pressed herself against the railing as Zac advanced.
“One chance, angel.” Stroking her cheek, he leaned in to kiss her.
“Stop, Zac.”
He didn’t stop.
Darcey turned her head at the last moment, Zac’s mouth landing on her cheek. With a growl, he took her by the chin and jerked her face to his. “Now, now, Darcey,” he said in a low, cruel voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”
Not in my lifetime, she thought bitterly.
Bringing up her knee, she slammed it into his crotch and shoved him away as soon as his grip loosened. Darting around him, she hurried down the stairs of the gazebo, unwilling to take her eyes off him.
A cry of pain escaped her, though, when she ran into a solid wall of heat and muscle. Oliver’s scent swirled into her nose, and she relaxed, clinging to his jacket.
Wordlessly, he wrapped her coat around her shoulders, his whole body tense.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Darcey managed a nod and risked a glance at his face. Oliver’s gaze was focused on Zac, his expression murderous. His brown eyes had lightened to a hazel-green before flashing emerald. He pushed her behind him, shielding her with his body.
“I told you to leave her alone.”
Darcey shivered at the malice in his voice and shuffled back a step.
“She was mine before you came along.”
Oliver shook his head. “She’s not something you own, but—” he glanced at her, his eyes soft and vulnerable. “She does own me, heart and soul.”
Darcey gasped while Zac’s snort of derision drew Oliver’s attention back to him.
“You sound like such a fucking pussy.”
A low-level growl suddenly filled the air, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. The timbre of it tugged at her fear receptors. This was the kind of sound a predator would make. This is the kind of sound that should make her run.
Instead, she was fixed in place, stuck in some strange limbo where she wanted to bolt, yet couldn’t look away. She watched in horror as Oliver approached Zac, as Zac met Oliver head-on. Oliver grabbed the front of Zac’s shirt and hauled him off his feet.
All the way off his feet.
Dangling in the air, Zac pinwheeled his arms and legs, trying to get free.
“You’re not to see Darcey again. You’re not to speak to her again. And if I find out you so much as breathed the same air as her, I will cut your balls off and force-feed them to you through your ass. Do you understand?”
Zac let out a whimper but said nothing in reply.
“I can’t hear you, Zac?” Oliver growled, tilting his ear in the direction of Zac’s mouth. When Zac still remained quiet, Oliver shook him so violently, Darcey could hear the clack of his teeth from where she was standing.
And then Zac was sailing through the air, landing in a heap in among the formal rose bushes.
That was over twenty feet away.
There was a long, loud groan before the sound tapered out into nothing. She looked back at Oliver, his eyes flashing emerald.
She shuffled back a step. “How in the hell did you do that?”
How could he have thrown a grown man so far without even breaking a sweat?
He dropped his gaze to the ground. “I need to tell you something.”
A derisive laugh escaped her mouth. Of course. “In the spirit of truth and honesty?” When he said nothing, she started to stab at things in the dark. “You take steroids, or worse, ice. I know you work out, but that?” She thrust her hand in the direction of the plantings. “That isn’t normal. Nobody can throw a man like that so effortlessly.”
“I don’t take drugs, baby,” he replied softly, shaking his head.
“No? What is it then? What can explain that?” She gestured wildly at the rose bush where Zac was still playing hide and seek. Inside, she heard a loud chorus of cheers and realized she was missing the end of the reception.
“You know what? I don’t have time for this right now. This is my sister’s wedding. I’m going back inside. When you’re ready to explain yourself, come and find me.” Lifting her dress, she walked back inside, leaving Oliver out in the cold.
Chapter Eleven
Oliver hoped he hadn’t fucked everything up.
Running a hand through his hair, he cradled his head in his hands and stared down at the thick carpet under his feet. He was sitting in the foyer of the reception venue, waiting for Darcey to leave. Noise from the reception room drew his attention, and he stood when the doors opened.
Steph and her husband were saying goodbye to their guests, waving frantically and blowing kisses.
Oliver caught a glimpse of Darcey through the throng, the smile on her face entirely fake. She was keeping her shit together for her sister, making him realize how strong she was.
That was his woman.
Now he just had to prove it to her.
Steph and Juan walked past him, too loved up to notice as they kissed like… well, newlyweds. Outside the door, they were met by a driver who opened the back door of their luxury limousine and helped them inside. Behind him, the guests were streaming out after them, watching them go. Turning around, he disappeared into the small hallway that led to the staff area and waited. Darcey was the last to leave, lingering until long after the wedding car had left.
Stepping from the hall, he waited for her to notice him. If she was his true mate, she would have an innate sense of where he was, anyway. That ability would increase when they were properly mated, that is, if he hadn’t fucked it up.
“You have some nerve, you know,” she said softly, not looking in his direction. When she finally did turn her eyes to him, they were brimming with tears. Her suffering slammed into his chest, the pain like a crippling physical wound.
Although he wanted to go to her, he stayed where he was.
Distance was good.
“You spout that honesty and trust are imperative to any relationship.”
“And I still stand by that.”
In the reception room, the music started again. Clearly, things were not wrapping up just yet.
“Can we talk somewhere a little quieter?” He was prepared for an emphatic no. He was banking on it, in fact, so when she agreed, he knew she hadn’t shut him out completely just yet.
“There’s a rooftop terrace,” she mumbled, walking away.
He followed behind her, watching how the blue dress she was wearing hugged her hips as she walked. She was stunning, but even dressed in sweats with no makeup, she would be beautiful to him. That was part of the mate bond.
When they were up on the roof, he shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Brushing his hand over the nape of her neck, she shivered, her unsure gaze darting to his face.
Retreating back a fe
w steps, he perched on the edge of a deck chair, placing her higher than him, giving her the advantage of position. As a wolf, he was making her alpha in this situation.
“I’m not like you, you know.”
She frowned and opened her mouth, but he quickly continued, “Look, I don’t know how else to tell you this, so I’m just going to come out and say it.”
“That’s all I ask, Oliver.”
He sucked in a breath. Let it go. “I’m not exactly human.” Bracing himself, he waited for her to leave, to just stand and walk right out of there and not look back. When he risked a glance at her face, he found her gaze level, expectant. “I’m a werewolf.”
Darcey gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth.
But still, she stayed.
And that gave him hope.
“I’m a member of the Alfheim pack based out of Greenville. My brother is the alpha, just like my father was before him. My brothers and sister I told you about? All werewolves. We live in a pack house outside of town. Nobody knows about us.”
“You turn into a wolf at will?”
“Yes.”
She took a moment to digest that answer. “And when you said you worked security for your family, you meant as a werewolf.”
“I’m the beta of the pack. Its interests are my interests, and sometimes that means defending our territory from other wolves.”
“Defend.” She chewed on the word. “Until the death?”
“Sometimes, if that’s necessary.”
Darcey couldn’t hide her shock even though she tried. He smelled it drifting on the breeze, the scent like burned plastic and gasoline.
“I can’t pretend we’re just like you. We’re more territorial, more intense than humans, but in so many other ways, we’re just the same. We have jobs, we contribute to society… we fall in love.”
She buried her face in her hands for a moment. “Werewolves aren’t real,” she muttered. Glancing up at his face, she said, “Werewolves aren’t real.”
“They are, baby, and with around two thousand living in the US, it’s hard to deny it.”
She folded her arms, her gaze skimming the ground for a moment before coming back to settle on his face. “Why are you telling me this, then? If it’s supposed to be some sort of state secret, why tell me?”
“Because you deserve to know the whole truth. I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass when I said honesty and trust are the cornerstones to a relationship. I need to be honest with you now and pray that you learn to trust me again.”
She huddled into his jacket as a gust of wind whipped around them. Pulling the sides closer together, she hit him with that direct stare of hers. “Trust is a hard thing to regain.”
“I’m willing to wait.”
“Even if you never get it back?”
His heart leaped into his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Sorry doesn’t change things, Oliver.” She walked to the other side of the terrace and looked over the edge. The wind whipped her blonde hair around her, teasing the satin lengths like they were ribbons. Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned.
“I would never hurt you. My wolf would never hurt his mate.” He had to make her see that.
“Mate?” she asked, her eyes widening.
Fuck. Fuck! He looked down at his hands, wondering whether he should tell her everything now instead of drip-feeding her the information. He just didn’t want to scare her off.
“Werewolves have mates. Often, it’s not their true mate because they haven’t met them yet, but some lucky bastards get to be with their true mate.”
“But I’m human,” she reasoned.
“It doesn’t matter. There aren’t that many female wolves, the number of males outnumbering them about five to one. Things are starting to change now that we’ve cracked the genetic code, so to speak, but it’s going to take a while before our numbers are evenly split between the genders.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Humans aren’t supposed to know.”
Her brows drew down in a scowl. “So why did you tell me?”
He fought the urge to get up and go to her. The need to touch her was like a junkie waiting for his next fix. “Because you’re it for me. My wolf…” he struck his chest, over his heart, “… is all in. Like, all in.”
“And you?”
“I was all in the moment I saw you get out of your car at The Bellbird.”
That frown was back, but only for a moment. Realization dawned, and her seafoam eyes widened. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yes. You felt that pull to look at me, right?” At her nod, he added, “It wasn’t because you’d heard a noise. It wasn’t because something drew your attention there. It was my wolf’s will. The connection was formed then.”
“And what if I didn’t want a connection to be formed?”
“Then you would have told me to fuck off, and my wolf would’ve been heartbroken. I would’ve been heartbroken.”
She shuffled to sit in the deckchair opposite him, her long blue dress pooling at her feet. Wrapping his jacket a little more tightly around her, she asked, “I don’t know what to think about all this.” She eyed him. “I mean, I noticed your eyes change color a couple of times. Is that… is that him? Your wolf?”
As if conjured, his wolf surged forward in his head, taking over for a moment. He knew the moment he manifested in his eyes.
Darcey sucked in a gasp and leaned back a little.
“He’d die before he hurt you, Darcey.” She needed to understand that. She needed to know that for him and his wolf, she was their world. Even if she rejected them now, she was still their world—it would, however, be a fractured world filling with an eternal winter.
She shook her head. “This is insanity.”
Oliver’s chest tightened. “Darcey?”
Surging to her feet, she shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him, shivering. “I think I need some time, Oliver. Can you give that to me?”
“Of course.”
“Goodbye, Oliver.”
His wolf howled in his head, a long, mournful sound.
He would give her the time she needed, but he knew he’d be miserable.
She left him alone on the rooftop with the cold wind his only companion.
Chapter Twelve
One Week Later…
“You look like hell.”
Darcey lifted her face off the table at The Bellbird and stared at Whitney as she slid into the seat opposite her.
“I feel like hell.”
Whitney reached out and touched her arm. “How are you really doing, Darcey?”
How was she really doing? She felt like she’d left the other half of her soul back in Pittsburgh after the wedding. Oliver hadn’t returned to the hotel afterward, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
“Terrible.” The word escaped without permission. She didn’t like admitting weakness or fear, but Whitney would understand. Tears streaked down her cheek, dripping onto the top of her dress. “Oh, Whit, I feel terrible.” Her best friend’s grip tightened where it lay on her arm.
Swallowing down on a ragged sob, Darcey asked, “Why can’t love ever be easy?”
“Love was never meant to be easy. But you know what? It’s the love that tests us that turns out to be the strongest.”
She blinked. “What about Zac? We were tested.”
“Yes, you were, but Zac chose the easy path, didn’t he?” Whit waited for a nod from her. “And what’s Oliver doing?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I haven’t heard from him since the wedding.”
Whitney motioned for the waitress. “Can we get four shots of tequila and two glasses of champagne? Thanks.” When they were alone once more, she waited until Darcey looked up at her. “You asked him for space.”
“I did.”
“And for once, a man listened to his woman. Oliver is giving you the time you need. This is his te
st. You never did tell me the reason you two are taking a break.”
She wasn’t going to spill Oliver’s secret to Whit—it wasn’t her secret to tell—but she could tell her something. “He lied to me about something.”
“What was it?”
“He kept something big from me, and I found out.”
“Meth habit? Crack? Sex addict?”
“Whit, stop.”
“Well, what is it? Surely, a man like that can’t be hiding something terrible.”
Their drinks arrived, and her friend pushed a shot of tequila in her direction. Darcey swallowed the mouthful, sucking in a hiss at the burn.
“Let me ask you this,” Whitney asked, licking some tequila from her fingers. “Does Oliver make you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever hurt you?”
“Never. In fact, he always protected me.”
Whit nodded like she was saying all the right things. “Has he ever given you any reason not to trust him?”
Well, there was that whole werewolf thing, she thought bitterly. But then she thought about it. Even though it had only been a week that they’d known each other, Oliver was the steady constant. He always made her feel safe, and there wasn’t one instant when she doubted him or his sincerity. There had never been a time when she didn’t trust him.
“No,” she whispered.
Whitney motioned for her to do her other shot. Darcey moved on autopilot, slamming it down and chasing the burn away with a sip of champagne. “I think you need to talk to him, even if it’s just to get a resolution. Then you’ll stop moping around and start acting like the Darcey I know and love.”
“I’m not moping.”
Whitney laughed. “No, not you, babe. You were just cleaning the table with your face when I came in. Come on, I know you. I know when you’re unhappy, and I know when you’re happy. Oliver made you happy.”
He did. He really did. She turned his words to her over in her head. She was supposed to be his mate, but how would that work? She wasn’t a werewolf, so surely that little biological difference would be problematic.
“You need to speak to him.” Darcey tracked her friend as she stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “You need to sort out whatever it is that happened between you, even if it’s just for closure.”
The Helheim Wolf Pack Novellas: The Complete Collection Page 28
