Chapter Three
Damn it. Jonas hated not knowing what he was walking into, and that was his own fucking fault. When Harper had showed up looking for sanctuary, he'd taken one look at her and just known she'd be trouble. Trouble with a capital T. He'd done just enough digging to verify she was who she claimed to be—Liza's cousin and the only daughter of Benjamin Alexander, the chairman of the Magical Council. Jonas hadn't bothered to find out more. Those people had nothing to do with him or the pack after all, and okay, fine, he'd been reluctant to get to know her on a personal level. That reticence was coming back to bite him in the ass. Now they had a wizard at the gate demanding access to his daughter.
A grown woman no less. Couldn't she handle her own damned family? He shook his head as he jogged. He knew the answer to that. He should have done a thorough background check on her, but he'd known what he'd find if anyone broke the wall of silence surrounding the magical community. She'd been so scared, so cowed when she'd shown up. A woman didn't get that way all on her own. There were men in her life who were more abusive than protective. It made his hackles rise. You didn't treat the people you loved like that.
Okay, okay, he sometimes didn't treat Mick as well as he should. But Mick could handle him, teeth and snarls and all. Harper? Harper couldn't handle a spider. It was starting to make Mick a little crazy not claiming her, but Jonas didn't trust himself. Didn't trust himself with such a delicate woman. She would be too easy to hurt, and as much he wanted her, he wouldn't endanger her. Not for his own satisfaction, not even for Mick's, and he'd do damned near anything to make Mick happy.
Which was a problem in the making. Mick didn't have the same hang-ups.
They didn't have to worry about hurting each other, and Mick knew he'd never hurt his mate. So far he'd followed Jonas's lead, but though Jonas was stronger, Mick was definitely not a submissive male. Eventually he would claim Harper, and when he did Jonas wouldn't be able to keep fighting his instincts to do the same.
Borrowed time. He was on borrowed time, and it made him cranky. He hated not being in control.
He arrived at the gate to see a small crowd gathered. Mick was right behind him. Harper stood, more like cowered really, between Liza and Liza's mother, Elspeth. An older, distinguished-looking gentleman stood just outside the gate. A few other wizards surrounded him. Jonas paused in his sweep of the crowd. One looked very much like Harper. A younger brother maybe? His anger seemed focused on Alexander.
“I want my daughter back.”
Liza shrugged. “You can't have her. She came to us for sanctuary. Those are rules that cannot be broken, even between our races.”
“She came in a fit of pique.”
He took an aggressive step forward but stopped just shy of crossing onto their land. Given his position in the wizard pecking order, Jonas bet he'd never been denied anything. How had Harper found the backbone to take off? More importantly, what had made her do it? Her father's gaze seemed to make Harper shrink even more into herself. That just pissed Jonas off, and he had to put a restraining hand on Mick's arm. His questions would have to wait for later. Right now he just wanted this asshole gone, preferably to some dark, inescapable dungeon where he could never hurt Harper again.
“Whatever her reason,” Jonas said, stepping forward, “she's here now, and here she will stay.”
Her father barely bothered to grace Jonas with a contemptuous glance. He held his hand out to Harper. “Come now, child. Enough pouting. Your wedding date draws near.”
She jerked as if slapped, but still didn't utter a word, and Jonas felt his rage rising even higher still. Liza stepped back as Jonas moved to take her place, closing his hand around Harper's elbow.
“That is impossible. She already has a mate.”
Her father's eyes held nothing but disdain. “A werewolf? I will never allow that.”
Jonas handed her behind him to Mick and focused on the threat before him.
He let his wolf rise to the surface. He knew his grin was feral, and he didn't care.
“She's a grown woman and a woman claimed. You know you can't interfere with that.” But he could see from the other man's face he wanted to. Jonas spread his arms. “Try to take her from me, Wizard. You won't survive the night.” The wizard's eyes narrowed, and Jonas felt power rising, sharp and fast, in the air. But Redhawke had their own witches. Liza and Elspeth stepped forward, and in a move that stunned him, so did Harper, linking her hands with theirs. Maybe she had more strength than he'd realized. More than she’d realized. Then in the real stunner of the night, the young man who looked so much like her stepped forward and joined his power with the three women's.
“I believe you're not welcome here, Father,” the young man said, satisfaction oozing from his voice.
“No, you aren't,” Harper echoed.
He gave both of them a look full of malice and hate before spinning on his heel and returning to the black SUV he'd arrived in. Harper held herself ramrod stiff until her father and his retinue disappeared down the road; then all the fight seemed to rush out of her. Instead of turning to him or Mick, she rushed to her brother, whose arms wrapped around her so tightly Jonas wondered if he'd need a crowbar to get her free. It was the second unexpected moment of jealousy he'd experienced in the last few days, and he struggled against the urge to snatch her away from a moment she obviously needed with her sibling.
The other werewolves drifted away until it was only him, Mick, Caleb, and Zach left. Even Liza left after a low, heated conversation with her mates, Zach and Caleb. Elspeth went with her. Mick fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot, his aggression level rising until Jonas sighed. He would have to interfere. But before he'd fully decided to, Harper stepped away from her brother.
She looked over her shoulder and was clearly surprised to find four men behind her and no sign of her cousin. Unease and fear crossed her face, two emotions he was growing accustomed to seeing from her, and that irritated the hell out of Jonas. She should know by now he'd never touch her, much less hurt her.
Her brother stepped forward and held his hand out. Jonas took it with a touch of hesitation. Not because the kid was a wizard, but because he was family who mattered to Harper, and Jonas had no way of knowing yet if he could be trusted, if his presence was part of a plan to steal Harper back. “I'm Dane. Harper's brother.”
“Nice to meet you.” He gave the polite answer. Dane's grip was firm, dry, and brief. He showed no signs of nervousness. Jonas didn't scent any deceit, but he couldn't let his guard down yet.
Dane grinned. “Under these circumstances? Not really.” He switched his grin and his handshake to Mick. “I can trust you to take care of her?” he asked softly.
Jonas looked over to where she stood a few feet away. Head down, arms crossed over her stomach, she looked so dejected. It hurt his heart to see her that way. He'd gotten used to sparks of temper, to wary interest.
“You can,” he answered just as softly, mostly convinced by Dane's voice and expression he meant his sister no harm.
Dane nodded. “Good.” Then he walked over to her and took her shoulders in his hands until she looked up with a shaky smile. “I have to go.”
“No!”
She looked at Caleb and Zach and then at Jonas when they didn't say a word.
Perhaps he should have interfered, but he wasn't thrilled with the idea of her brother hanging around over the next few weeks. Later, when he and Mick and Harper were sure of each other, maybe.
Dane gave her a shake that made Mick step forward aggressively. “You belong here, Harper. I have a different destiny.”
He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.
“Here. Father can't track this phone. My number is programmed in.” She put the slim phone in her back pocket. He kissed her forehead and hurried through the gate to the final vehicle left behind by the other wizards. Waving one last time, he was gone.
Harper turned and gave Jonas a look full of accusation, but she hurried off without saying a
word. Caleb and Zach blocked him before he could follow her. His sigh was heavy with exasperation.
“What?”
“She's important to Liza,” Caleb said.
“I know that.” He didn't hide his irritation. Did they think he was a blind idiot?
Caleb shrugged. “We just don't want to see her hurt.” He turned narrowed, angry eyes on his alpha. “I don't tell you how to take care of your mate.”
Caleb showed almost no reaction to his aggression. “She's unclaimed. That's a hurt of its own.”
Jonas fisted his hands. Like he didn't fucking know that? Every day the separation was more painful. If he left the pack, it might become bearable, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.
“I can take care of my own,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
After several long seconds, Zach nodded. “See that you do.”
Then both alpha and beta turned and melted into the growing darkness.
Mick's gaze was just as hard and unforgiving when Jonas turned to face him.
“Come on,” Jonas said, resigned to the inevitable. “Let's go deal with our mate.”
Chapter Four
Harper ran, cutting off the well-worn path to save time through the woods.
Unfortunately, it was dark, and she missed the brambles until she was thigh high in them. They tore at her jeans as she pushed through, cutting into her skin. It stung, but finally she was free, and she saw her back-porch light.
She went straight through the house to her bathroom, where she shimmied out of her pants and looked at her legs, fighting back a sob. Bad enough to have faced her father, bad enough to have lost her brother again. For some reason the blood streaking her calves and thighs made her want to bawl. She blamed it on the delayed effects of adrenaline. Her hands were shaking, her heart racing. At least her body and mind had waited to freak out until after the confrontation with her father.
After several deep breaths and feeling a little more in control, she turned the shower on and stepped in, ignoring the knock on her front door. It was probably Jonas checking up on her, even though he hated the job. Or maybe Mick, who would look at her with desire and compassion but not make a move to comfort her.
Under the scalding water, she washed and conditioned her hair fast, then used the cloth and soap to gently clean her legs. She'd dab on some antibiotic cream when she got out. She'd seen some in the kitchen cabinet where Liza apparently kept all her first-aid supplies. Harper supposed it was the sensible place to store them if you were often giving aid to others. From what she'd seen, Liza wasn't the one likely to need assistance after a fight or injury. Harper had never seen her fight, hoped she never would, but she'd heard the stories, and there was no denying the strength Liza radiated.
She turned the water off. She dried off with one towel and wrapped a big, fluffy one around her body before stepping into the hall. Her scrapes stung. The cream would make them sting more, but there was also a bottle of rum in kitchen. A shot sounded like just the thing to soothe her aching heart.
Without turning on the hall light or even glancing into the living room as she passed, she went straight for a glass and the bottle. There was enough moonlight streaming in to see, so she poured a finger and downed it before pouring another.
Then she rummaged in the cabinet where the first-aid supplies were, but had to reach over to flick on the light when she couldn't see inside the dim space. She found the antibiotic cream, a box of Band-Aids, and carried both to the table before going to retrieve her drink.
“What the hell happened to you?”
She almost dropped her drink. Heart pounding, she set the glass on the counter and turned slowly. She should have known Jonas wouldn't leave when she hadn't answered the door. His gaze moved over her possessively, and she was suddenly aware she was standing there in only a towel. She wasn't sure if it was mortification or lust that sent a heated flush up her throat to her face. Clothes. She needed clothes ASAP. Before she could sidle past him, however, Mick nudged Jonas aside. He walked right up to her and dropped to one knee, his hands gentle as he examined her legs.
“What did you do, sugar?”
It took a moment to find her voice. His touch was professional, but her body didn't care, and she couldn't get the image of him and Jonas having sex out of her head. He looked up with a sexy grin, and she groaned. He was a werewolf. Of course he could smell her arousal. Standing, he took her hand, then tugged her to the table. He lifted her to sit on it, went back to the cabinet, and returned with a bottle of peroxide and a bag of cotton balls.
He pulled a chair to face her, tugged her feet to rest on the edge and pinned them with his thighs. He wet one of the cotton balls, then reached for her leg.
Jerking away was reflexive, and she didn't stop until his low growl filled the room.
“I already cleaned it,” she whispered.
“With what?”
“Soap and water.”
“Think of this as added precaution.” His fingers circled her ankle gently, but she knew there was no way he'd let her go. Resigned, she sighed and repressed a flinch when he touched the cotton ball to one of the smaller scrapes.
“Harper.” She shivered at Jonas's voice. She could hear the wolf in it, but it was sexy rather than frightening. He moved to stand behind Mick and waited until she looked up to meet his gaze. “What happened?”
“I cut through the woods. And found a briar patch.” He shook his head. “You can't be left unsupervised at all can you?” She bristled. “I'm fine. I can take care of myself.” But she didn't try to pull free of Mick's gentle healer's grasp.
Jonas crossed his arms over his chest, and his face seemed set in stone.
Privately, she called it his stern face. He wouldn't use it on her nearly so much if he knew how much this hard, unforgiving side of him turned her on.
“Is that right? You get yourself hurt walking home. Spy on people in the woods.” Oh gods, he had to bring that up? Her face was so hot she knew it'd be scarlet. “And you get yourself engaged to some wizard when you have two mates already.”
“I am not engaged to anyone. My father came up with that plan all on his own.”
Jonas, arrogant as ever, cocked one eyebrow. “Is that right?” She nodded. She couldn't find the voice to answer when he looked at her with that avaricious heat in his eyes.
“Can't really blame her for that anyway,” Mick said calmly. She jumped when the peroxide contacted the deepest cut and the scrape up the outside of her calf.
“She didn't know she belonged to us then.”
Was it interest or terror that filled her at the possessiveness in their voices?
Terror, definitely. She was in no way prepared to handle one of them, much less two. Tempted maybe, but not prepared. It was just good fantasy material. Fine.
Great fantasy material. Scary and intoxicating at the same time, but impossible.
Mick tossed the used cotton balls to the trash can in the corner and then picked up the antibiotic cream. She trembled under his soft touch as he smeared it on each scrape, paying particular attention to the long, ugly one.
When he was finished, he held both her calves in a light grip. “Why are you so afraid, sugar?”
The air seemed to chill. The question was gently asked, but the demand for information was in his eyes.
“Who says I am?”
Jonas's voice was harsh. “We can scent it. It's sharp and tangy, and I like it a little too much. Answer the damned question, Harper.” Oh, that pissed her off. He acted like witch was synonymous with leper, in her case at least, and now he wanted… What? He'd used the word mate with her father, had insisted here in her kitchen she belonged to him. That shoved her anger into fury. She'd fled the only home she'd ever known because she refused to be owned by any man. Not her father or some man he chose for her, and sure as hell not a werewolf who held her in nothing but contempt.
“Get over yourself, Jonas,” she snapped. “I don't owe you any explanations.�
�� For a moment surprise crossed his face, and he arched that damned eyebrow again. “Got a backbone after all.”
She finally succeeded in jerking free of Mick's grip and hopped off the table, clinging to the towel so she didn't give anyone a show. She nodded at Mick, trying to completely ignore Jonas in the process.
“Thank you for helping with the scratches. Y'all can show yourselves out.” She didn't quite run from the room, but she didn't give either of them a chance to stop her either. In her bedroom, she slammed the door behind her and leaned back against it. It was a long time before her heart slowed to normal, before she quit trembling. She dressed and sat on the edge of the bed, wiping damp palms against her jean-clad legs while straining to hear sounds in the house.
Had they left? She hadn't heard any doors shut, but she didn't hear any movement or voices either. Her stomach rumbled, and she glared at the door. Was she really reduced to hiding in her room in her own damned house? No way. She jerked the door open and stomped down the hall.
Chapter Five
“Good job, man.”
Jonas stiffened but didn't respond to Mick. He walked to the fridge and opened both doors. There wasn't much. TV dinners, salad makings. Certainly not anything that appealed to two werewolves.
“The woman has no food,” he grumbled.
She had dangerous curves, curves that made his mouth water and all the blood in his body rush to his cock. There was no way she'd keep them if she continued to eat this crap. Scowling, he shut the door. Actually, she'd dropped a few pounds since her arrival. Why hadn't he noticed before? He turned to face Mick.
“I've got steaks at home. I'll go get them. Be right back.” But Mick didn't move out of the doorway to let him pass. Jonas grunted.
“What?”
Mick cocked an eyebrow. “I'm not the one with the problem. She's not a soldier.
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