by Bethany Shaw
“You can’t just get a job, Em,” Devon growled.
“You’re right,” Emily conceded sadly.
“Why?” Lark asked before thinking better of it. This really wasn’t her place to meddle. But she really was curious to know why.
Gene took a sip of his beer; his brown eyes darted between Lark and Devon. “You came here to start a new life. I’m sure we can make it work.” He ran a hand through his dark blonde hair focusing on his cousin.
“I wouldn’t even need to get paid,” Emily suggested, back on board with the idea. “I enjoy cooking. I could get out of the house. Make new friends.” Her green eyes sparkled as she spoke.
Devon took a long swig of his beer, his eyes set on Emily. “Em, now isn’t the time.”
“Why?” Lark repeated agitation setting in.
Devon took a step toward Lark, eyes narrowed on Emily still. “You seem the type to do stuff by the book, Lark. Follow the rules and don’t get your hands dirty.”
His hazel eyes settled on her, making her insides quiver. While he looked pissed, there was something about his eyes. They showed an entirely different emotion. The look seared her, making her blood run hot and cold. How could he enrage and turn her on at the same time?
She clicked her teeth and was determined to shake the indecent thoughts away. Who did he think he was? Offended and outraged by his lack of regard for Emily’s happiness she lashed out, “If Emily wants to work at the bakery, the two of us can figure it out. She is capable of making her own decisions,” her chin jutted out staring him straight in the eye, “and for future reference, I’d appreciate if you didn’t make assumptions about me!”
“Please, Dev, I want to get out and do things, to live.” Emily pleaded with her brother.
“This isn’t the time for this discussion,” Devon snapped.
“Well, my offer still stands, if you’d like to try it out.” Lark forced a smile at the younger woman. She didn’t like confrontation, but wouldn’t allow him to bully either of them. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check on Sarah.” She narrowed her eyes at Devon as she walked past him, mustering up the evilest look she could. What the hell was his problem?
Chapter 4
Devon leaned back into the couch cushion while everyone else got situated. He’d been waiting for the stipulations they had agreed upon to be put into place. They’d promised to follow Rick’s conditions without knowing them. If it were anyone else he wouldn’t have done it, but he trusted Rick.
“Thank you for meeting with me this morning. I apologize for taking a few days to get back to you on the specifications of our arrangement. Devon knows I like to think things through,” Rick chuckled as he sipped his coffee.
“It’s no problem, we’re just thankful for your hospitality,” Marcus replied from his spot next to Emily. Her head resting on his shoulder as they snuggled close.
Rick let out a hearty laugh, the brown leather chair crunched beneath him as he sat down. “Don’t thank me yet. You might not like what I have to say.”
“Great! You’re going to make us work aren’t you?” Vincent said with a wide smile on his face and hesitation swirling in his eyes. He’d never done an honest days work in his life, but he would be loyal to a fault.
Emmett was a savvy businessman and knew how to play the stock markets. Most of the men on his homestead did little to no work.
“I’m sure they can’t be too horrible,” Marcus said rolling his eyes at Vincent.
Devon agreed, the fact that they were meeting in the upstairs living room said this was casual. If it had been formal they would’ve met in the office downstairs.
“No, nothing bad. I really only have a few requests. Devon, Vincent, and Marcus, you shall report to Gene tomorrow morning to help with the horses.” Rick turned to Devon. “Devon, your EMS skills will be utilized for any injuries. Lastly,” he paused to take another sip from his mug.
“Emily and Marcus will complete a proper mating ceremony this weekend. I think it is best for all involved that you be in a sacred relationship should your father come looking for you. A mating ceremony is more holy than a marriage in our society. Since you two have already promised yourselves to one another this should not be a problem, right?” Rick asked. He looked pointedly at the diamond ring on Emily’s left finger.
“Mated?” Emily squeaked, eyes wide, a grin slipping across her face. Her smile faltered after a moment. “What about a wedding?” She whispered, twisting, she looked up at Marcus.
Rick nodded as he studied them. “I had a wedding. However, a mating ceremony is going back to our roots as a culture and the significance of it will be viewed a lot differently. With regards to the situation, I think it is best. I’m not sure I can find a minister by Sunday. That’s not to say we can’t do something in the future.”
“I know it’s more modern and deters from our ways, but…” Emily trailed off.
“Weddings are very popular and I understand why you would prefer that. However, I think the ceremony will cement your relationship more than a wedding could,” Devon said in an attempt to remain neutral. He agreed with his uncle about the ceremony. Having grown up with Emily, he knew the fairy tale part of walking down the aisle in a frilly dress was important to her. “I’m sure we can do a mating ceremony with a modern theme.”
Rick nodded thoughtfully, hand stroking his beard. “I never had a daughter so I won’t pretend to know the flare of an extravagant wedding, but if memory serves me, my wife thought it a momentous occasion. I see no reason why you can’t have a reception afterwards. In fact, I see no reason why you couldn’t wear a gown. It could essentially be the same just different vows exchanged and, of course, the mark. Matching tattoo’s that will symbolize your love for one another for all to see.”
“It’s not a problem, we don’t have to. I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Emily whispered, eyes on her and Marcus’ entwined hands.
“Oh don’t be silly, Emily, it’s your day. I can’t give you a wedding, but we will try to make the day as special as possible. We can get the dress and cake, anything you want. The ceremony is much like a wedding in some respects.” Rick got up and put his hand on her shoulder. He continued, “I promise we will make it a day you won’t forget.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said. He got up and extended his hand to Rick, clasping their hands together. “You have no idea how much all this means to us.”
“Of course, the pleasure is mine. I’ll give you kids a minute to talk it out while I retrieve the ceremonial book,” Rick said, coffee cup in hand and exited the den.
“This should be fun. I’ve never been to a mating ceremony.” Vincent grinned rubbing his hands together.
Devon nodded. The practice was old, so old that most couples went the more traditional marriage route. He’d only heard people talk about it. “I think it’s a good idea. Rick is right. It will hold more value in our society than a conventional wedding. We’ll make sure you have everything you’ve always wanted, Em.”
“Once we carry out this union I doubt the Gulf packs will be interested in you. We’ll be marked as a couple.” Marcus pressed a kiss to Emily’s temple. “We’ll be free.”
“I know. It is a good idea. We’re going to have to review the rituals closely. Make sure we know what to do,” Emily said smiling. She clapped her hands together and bounced up on the couch gazing at Marcus. “This weekend we’ll be mated to each other.”
Vincent grumbled as Emily leaned into Marcus, grasping the back of his head and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Devon turned his attention to the floor while Vincent elbowed him in the chest, playfully clearing his throat.
“Oh my god, we have so much to do. How are we going to get it all done? It’s already Wednesday,” Emily exclaimed. Her lips popped as she jumped away from Marcus. Her fingers tugged at her hair, panic evident on her face.
“We’ll figure it out,” Marcus said, his hand clasped hers.
“I have no problem talking to Lark about a
cake,” Vincent smiled, then jabbed his brother in his ribs again.
Emily opened her mouth to protest, but Devon spoke up first. “I’ll take care of it.” He couldn’t quite explain the jealousy that churned inside him, but the thought of Vincent flirting with Lark infuriated him.
“You’re just saying that because you think she’s hot,” Vincent said.
Devon ground his teeth glaring at Vincent. “My intentions are to get a cake for our sister, not flirt.”
“It might not hurt you to flirt - or get laid, Dev,” Vincent teased, a smile on his face.
“Leave her be, both of you. She is a nice person,” Emily said, eyes fixed on both of them. “Will you take care of it, Dev?” She turned her gaze to him, eyes softly pleading.
“I’ll handle it. You worry about your dress, choosing a mark, and studying for the ceremony. Vincent and I will take care of the small things,” Devon said.
“Are you sure, after the other night, you two didn’t exactly hit it off,” Emily mumbled green eyes peering up at Devon nervously.
“It will be fine, I promise.” Despite what he was sure Lark thought, he was more than capable of charming women. Besides she would be helping Emily. He was certain the blonde baker would assist his sister.
***
Devon left his siblings and Marcus to finish sorting out the logistics before the ceremony. There would be a lot of work to make the day special.
However, there were more pressing matters clouding his mind. Despite what Emily and Marcus thought, he knew Emmett would not let this go.
Rick had to be aware of this, but he wanted to be sure his uncle understood the full ramifications of what he was asking. This action would start a conflict between the two packs — or a war. It would not, in any way, fix the already tense situation. He took a sharp breath in and knocked on the study door.
“Come in,” Rick’s gruff voice called.
Devon turned the metal knob, apprehension churned in his stomach. The office looked dreary like the rain outside. The grey walls weren’t doing any favors on lighting the room. The furniture was all hard cherry making the space feel a little less like a dungeon.
His uncle’s brown eyes rested on him as he looked up from the book case. “I know why you’re here, Devon, and you need not say anything.”
“You don’t know Emmett like I do,” he began, but his uncle quickly held up a hand.
“Perhaps not, but I know men like him. I’m not fool enough to think this ceremony will stop him. It may not stop the Gulf packs either, but Emily will be less desirable to some wolves once marked by another. Our enemy will be a few instead of many.” Rick motioned for him to sit down as he pulled a decanter of liquor out and two tumblers. He poured the alcohol into the glasses and handed him one before taking his seat at his desk.
“Emmett has a lot of allies, there are a lot of men who fear him,” Devon warned. He wanted to avoid a confrontation if at all possible.
Rick chuckled, taking a small sip from his cup. “I’m aware, son. I was well aware when I offered the four of you a home. Men like Emmett take what they want, when they want, until someone is brave enough to stand in their way. I will not sit by idly while he manipulates those weaker than him to do his bidding. Is everyone in danger here now? Yes. But we would have faced his tyranny sooner or later anyway. I intend to make a stand before he grows any stronger, and would like to send a message to the Gulf packs. Not everyone is as easily swayed as Emmett. Furthermore, I would like to give back to you what is rightfully yours,” Rick said. His eyes pierced Devon to the soul with that last comment.
Devon lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed the contents in one gulp. The amber liquid burned as it slid down his throat. “I’m not an alpha,” he coughed, setting the tumbler down.
“You have not been brought up as one, no, but have the makings to be one. The problem, Devon, is you don’t see your own potential. Alpha blood runs through your veins. The ability to enforce your will, the compassion for others, and the urge to protect those around you. Those are things that can’t be taught or learned. They’re inherent. Just promise me you will think about it, Devon. The old farmhouse and its acreage are yours, whenever you are ready for it,” Rick said. He lifted his glass taking a sip of the amber liquid.
Devon stared down at the fine wood grains of the desk. His eyes focused on the scratches that marred the cherry finish. He’d come in here to discuss his concerns only to have the conversation turned against him. I can have my own pack, but I’m not ready for that, am I?
“Worrying will give you wrinkles, Devon. Everything will work out.” Rick stood up, walking around the desk, and patted him on the shoulder. “Come, help me dig out the books we need for the ceremony.”
***
Emmett forced calm breaths into his nostrils as he stared at his eldest son. Daniel shifted slightly on his feet, but remained strong.
“What is it?” He barked, slamming his fist down on the metal desk.
“We still haven’t found them. I think they may have left the state,” Daniel explained.
Emmett growled, his hand swiping across the desk, sending papers and pens careening to the floor. Everyone that works for me is an imbecile. “But you don’t know that for a fact?”
“No, but we have checked all the packs in the state, Father, they’re not there. We have spies in all of them, no one has seen or heard from them. We should consider expanding our search area,” Daniel said, eyes downcast.
Emmett nodded, appraising his son as he did so. The stench of fear emanating from Daniel disgusted him. “Very well, I want you to make a list of all of Devon’s contacts outside the state and see if we have anyone on the inside.”
“I already did that, Father,” Daniel said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a list.
Emmett snatched the list from Daniel’s hand and sat back in his chair. Glancing over it, he ticked off the names of likely suspects in his head.
“I want you to check these three out first.” Emmett grabbed one of the remaining pens on the desk and circled three names, before handing it back to Daniel. “I want them found. Emily need be the only one brought back alive. Kill the others.”
“Vincent is with them, Father, and Devon,” Daniel faltered.
“And?” Emmett snapped, shooting up, his chair rolling backwards across the wood floor. He narrowed his eyes at Daniel. How dare he question me? “He betrayed us, he is no son of mine, nor is he your brother. Forget him. And I should’ve killed Devon a long time ago. He’s never been your brother, don’t even think about him.”
***
Lark straightened up her desk and moved out to the front of the bakery. It had been a slow afternoon. Now was the perfect time to start preparations for tomorrows morning rush.
Grabbing the few supplies she needed she set to work on making dough for the next day. She enjoyed kneading dough, squeezing the soft mixture between her fingers, it was soothing. It was a great way to take out her frustrations and relax.
She was still reeling from her confrontation with Devon three days ago. It was more outrage for Emily, she thought, and her own anger at not finding a suitable candidate for her open positions.
The bell on the front door jingled, drawing her thoughts to her new customer. Her breath caught in surprise.
“Hello, Lark,” Grant said. A small smile on his face. He came around to her side of the counter and leaned against the steel and glass case.
“I heard you were coming back to town,” she said after a long moment. Lark turned her attention back to the dough. Yes, with his dark brown hair, chocolate eyes, and well muscled body he was still attractive. That road had already been traveled. It hadn’t worked out, no use doing it again.
“So, my mom told you? How are you?” Grant asked. His thumb reached out and swiped something off her shoulder.
“Good,” she said, pulling away from him. His touch had done nothing for her. She turned and went back to kneading the dough, hoping h
e would catch the hint.
“New York is really different. It’s nice to be home.”
“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled. She could see him watching her from the corner of her eye.
“I’ve actually got an internship set up here in town so I don’t have to go back until January, and just for a few months to finish up my essays and a few classes,” Grant explained. He leaned forward palms pressing on the metal table.
“I bet your mom’s happy.”
“Of course, she never was keen on me leaving,” he chuckled. He opened his mouth to say more when the bell chimed, alerting them to someone else entering.
Lark let out a relieved breath, thankful for the interruption. She brushed her hands off on her apron as she turned. Mouth dropping in surprise, she tucked a loose curl behind her ear, and clamped her mouth shut.
“Hi,” she greeted, mustering up a smile.
“I was wondering if you had a moment. I need to place a special order,” Devon said, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes lingering on Grant before fixating on her.
“Actually, I close at eight. It’s seven-forty-five, and I am in the middle of something at the moment.”
His eyes drifted to the clock then back to her.
She hesitated, while she could make an exception, and normally would, Devon wasn’t exactly being polite about asking either. “I open tomorrow at seven, if you’d like to come back,” she replied her voice overly sweet. “But since you’re here you can take all the leftovers back to the ranch. Sarah’s already home for the night.”
A tick formed in his jaw, his hazel eyes glowering at her. She was being a bitch, but he had pissed her off the other night.
“Did you want anything before I box all this up?” Lark asked tearing her gaze from Devon and looking at Grant.
“No thanks, I’ll wait,” Grant replied staring at Devon.
Eager to end the night, Lark walked to the shelf where the extra take out containers were. Standing on tip toes, she struggled to grab a few boxes. Her finger tips grazing across the cardboard.
Lark jumped as Grant placed a hand on her lower back.
