“Yes,” he groaned, holding his hand out desperately.
She got him the tablets and smiled as he looked at them as if they were the Holy Grail before popping them in his mouth. He ignored the glass of water she’d set next to him and swallowed them dry. “Thank you.”
She resumed her seat beside him and chewed on another cracker. “Want to tell me about it?”
“It’s nothing serious, babe,” he sighed, opening his eyes fully for the first time. Absently, he snagged one of her crackers and popped it in his mouth, grimacing as he chewed. “God, these are awful. Anyway, it’s just Connor. He’s getting nervous about the fight coming up. He always does this when Eben’s going into a serious battle. I think he just went to sleep about a half hour ago.”
Gwen motioned to the pies and cookies lining the counters. It looked more like a bakery than a private home. “Is that why he’s been doing all the baking?”
“It’s how he copes,” Christian said. “He bakes. And then I’m left to eat everything. I’m probably going to gain ten pounds by the time the damn thing is actually over.”
He sounded so morose over it, she smiled. “Has Eben ever lost one?”
“No. But there’s always that possibility. It’s a brutal thing to watch the man you know as your brother rip the head off some guy you grew up with. The first time I saw him in battle, I was thirteen. I had nightmares for a month.”
She flinched as his words dragged up the image of Eben killing Angie and Matthew. It had been brutal, worse than anything she’d seen before.
“He’s not like them,” he said softly, reading her expression. “He’d never hurt anyone just to hurt them, and he’s never drawn out the pain and torture because he could. Every kill he’s made has been quick and clean. He’s lethal, Gwen, but he isn’t evil.”
And that was the big difference, she supposed. He’d never hurt her, as angry as she’d made him, he’d never harmed her. He’d yelled, raged and threatened, but he’d never done anything to suggest that he would ever do anything more than that.
Frowning in thought, she stared at the counters and let the ugly thoughts and memories drift away. “Why is there nothing with chocolate?” she asked, straightening her spine and really examining all the desserts. Her stomach clenched in hunger, and suddenly she needed chocolate.
“Brownies in the morning? What’s wrong with you?” Connor frowned at her. A large pan of brownies sat in front of her, three rows already gone.
Gwen ducked down slightly in embarrassment, but still looking at the brownies covetously. “I’m sorry.”
“And you, Christian! I suppose you’re part of this as well?” he huffed.
Christian shoved the last bite of his brownie in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “She put tart cherries in them. Said it cut the too-much-chocolate thing. They’re really good.”
“It does,” she said earnestly.
“Breakfast,” Connor enunciated, “requires breakfast food. Namely eggs, cereal, bacon, fruit. Something of that nature.” He pointed to the brownies with a shudder. “Those are not part of a morning meal. You realize, of course, that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And look what you’ve wasted it on.”
Lazily, Christian reached over and pulled the pan toward him, cutting another large square and scooping it out with a wink and a smile. Gwen followed the brownie as if her eyes were physically attached to it.
“I can’t believe this,” Connor muttered with disgust, turning to the stove and twisting the knob to the burner viciously, clearly vexed.
“If you were a nice person, you’d give me that brownie,” Gwen said, sidling closer to Christian.
He took a bite of it and said through the brownie, “I’m not a nice person.”
She sighed and cut one for herself, slightly bigger than Christian’s. When she held it in her hand, all moist chocolate and frosting, she had a sudden feeling of satisfaction. Brownies were the underdog in the dessert world, completely underrated as a quality dessert.
And then it was plucked from her hand by a nasty old man with a temper. He whisked the brownie far away, several feet at least, and held it aloft as he scowled at her. “Go get dressed, Gwen. When you come back, I’ll have a proper breakfast started.”
“I need that,” she pleaded, but he just shook his head.
“No, you’ve had enough. Now go.”
She looked at him mutinously for a minute, then at the pan still sitting on the counter, within reach.
“Don’t even think about it.”
She turned and stomped from the kitchen, her angry expression enough to let him know she was cursing him under her breath.
As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned on Christian. “How could you? Don’t you realize how delicate she is right now? She needs healthy food, not chocolate and sweets!”
Christian shrugged and took the brownie Connor still held in his hand. “Hey, she wanted chocolate. Who was I to stop her?”
“She’s pregnant. The first months progress faster than a normal human pregnancy and she needs nutrition, not chocolate! You’re going to be an uncle. Act like it!”
Christian raised his hand in the air, like a student in elementary school. “Speaking of which, when is Eben going to tell her? And when is he going to marry her? Does he realize by human law his kid’s last name is going to be Branson unless he does the deed?”
Still irritated, Connor whipped out a pan and slapped it on the stove. “It’s not my business to interfere in his relationships.”
“Bullshit, old man. Why don’t you try telling another one? Maybe something a little more believable?” Christian prodded.
Connor turned his head toward him and raised his brow. “Eben took my grandmother’s ring to be sized.”
Christian halted in the act of biting his brownie and whistled. “Yup, that’ll do it.”
“It better,” Connor grumbled, cracking eggs into the pan.
Chapter Fourteen
The tension in the house was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife and serve with coffee. Gwen was pretty sure it was cinnamon flavored.
It would have been easy to use it as an excuse, but when she woke up nauseous and sick, again, she knew she had bigger problems to worry about than the anxiety the men were feeling. She was pregnant. And it so far wasn’t progressing normally, or at least, she didn’t think it was if she was experiencing morning sickness so early on. But then, Eben wasn’t exactly human, so that kind of made sense.
“Oh bloody fucking hell,” she moaned, leaning her head against the cool tiles on the bathroom wall. It was even better than a cold washcloth. When one spot got too warm, she just slid her head over and she had a brand-new cold tile to use.
She remembered her mother complaining about how sick she’d gotten when she was pregnant. It was always one of the complaints she issued, like Gwen owed her for suffering through four months of morning sickness. For the first time in her life, Gwen felt a measure of compassion for her mother, because it was horrible.
After a time she got up and hurriedly dressed, making sure to be quiet so as not to wake Eben. She went downstairs after, anxious for the tea and crackers that seemed to be her cure-all. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do. It was still a little early to take a pregnancy test, she thought, since her period wasn’t due for another week or so, but it did seem a little obvious. Of course, it wasn’t all her fault. Eben was older and wiser—at least he was supposed to be. It didn’t negate her own responsibility, however. She certainly should have thought about protection before she’d engaged in carnal activities with him. And because she hadn’t, she now had to suffer the consequences. It seemed her mother had been right after all.
Connor already had the pot on the stove and a cup prepared for her. She thanked him with a weak smile as she sat at the counter and pulled the box of crackers over, still trying to figure out what to do. She wasn’t sure how Eben would react. He didn’t seem like the type to be furious. Instead, she
could easily picture him becoming even more protective and domineering. He’d make her life hell.
“You look sad,” Connor commented.
She shrugged and bit into a cracker, chewing it slowly. After swallowing, she said, “I’ll be fine.” And she would be.
She slept through the afternoon. On the couch, no less.
She hadn’t started out wanting a nap. She’d planned to page through a magazine, but the next thing she knew, she was cold and shaking, with images of sharp teeth coming at her. She woke up crying.
Connor came to the door of the kitchen, worry on his face. “Gwen?”
She sat up, heartsore and cold and looked around the room, slightly surprised to find herself in the living room. “Where’s Eben?”
“The study. Honey, are you all right?”
She slid off the couch, her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’ll be fine,” she said over her shoulder, already heading for the study.
Eben looked up from the papers on the desk when she pushed the door open and stepped in. His eyes were clouded, as if he’d been focused entirely on what he was reading.
She didn’t give him any time to even question her. Gwen crawled into his lap and curled up with her arms around his neck. When his arms wrapped around her back and held her to him, she sighed and closed her eyes.
“I had the worst dream,” she breathed. “Just awful.”
“Did you?” He threw his pen down and nuzzled her hair.
She nodded. “But I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to sit here for a little while, if that’s okay.”
He leaned back in the chair. “It’s okay.” He rocked gently.
She closed her eyes and rested against him, absorbing his strength, his protection. What a funny thing it was to think that she’d never have met him if not for the loony bin. Possibly the worst point in her life, yet it had given her so much. “You’re really a wonderful man, you know. Even though you try not to be.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I do.” She smiled against his neck and let out a little sigh. “Eben, what is all that on your desk.” She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared at the papers spread across the surface of the desk. They looked official, sort of. With stamps and seals, but none like she’d ever seen before.
He pulled a manila folder forward and handed it to her. His voice was deep and devoid of emotion as he said, “These just arrived an hour ago. It seems a pack in southern Illinois had a problem with a rogue Alpha terrorizing the human population nearby. Three kills, each were blamed on one of its members even though they knew it wasn’t one of theirs.”
She opened it and immediately gasped at the horror of the pictures inside. They were ghastly, the people in them torn into no more than scraps of flesh and bone with blood splashed here and there. She slammed the folder closed and threw it back on the desk. “Those are awful.”
“Look at the last photo.” He opened the folder and pulled the back picture to the front. It wasn’t as grotesque as the others, but it was terrifying in its own right. A figure from her nightmares stood on it, his deep red fur easily identifiable under the garage light as he chewed on the arm of some poor soul. His eyes were just as empty as she remembered.
“That’s him,” she whispered, her hand going to her throat.
He replaced the picture and closed the folder, tossing it on the desk. “The pack leader is a man who used to run with us up here. He recognized Theron’s scent, even though he’d met him just once before. This will add to the case against him.”
Gwen returned her head to his shoulder, the image in the picture make the one in her head solidify and match it. “Do I still have to go to your meeting?”
“Yes.”
“And then you have to fight him.” She didn’t like that. At all. “Aren’t you worried?”
“I’m not stupid,” he said softly, wielding the end of her braid like it was a paint brush. He made one swipe, and then another against her cheek. “I know what I can take and what I can’t, Gwen. I can take Theron.” He dropped her braid and cupped her jaw with one hand, tilting her head so she had to look in his eyes. “I do know.”
“But have you ever met anyone you couldn’t take before?”
His eyes looked into hers, completely impassive. “No.”
“So you don’t really know, then,” she argued earnestly. “Eben,” she grasped at his hand desperately, “this doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“You worried?”
“Well, you’re going to be fighting a great big huge man-beast thing with really big claws and a terrible temper. There’re going to be people watching and cheering, I suppose, although I never did understand that part.” She marveled over the brutality of man and Were for a second. “You’re going to be trying to kill him, and he you. You should be worried, too.”
He smiled slightly, just the barest curve of his lips. “Why should I, when I have you and Connor doing it so well for me?”
“This isn’t funny,” she whispered.
He tilted his head and studied her. “No, it isn’t. But it’s how we settle charges like this. He is guilty—you’ve seen him, and now so has another. He has to die because he won’t stop, Gwen. He’s endangering us all by taking down humans like this.”
“Then I guess you have no choice,” she answered dully, hating it. Hating the situation. Why it had to be Eben, she didn’t know, but it seemed unfair to saddle him with so much responsibility.
“No,” he agreed. “There is no choice.
She looked over to the side for a minute, searching for something to study in the room. It was a nice room, with dark wooden furniture and some pretty antiquey-looking things on shelves along the cream-colored walls. It was a masculine room, and she could just imagine Connor and Eben sitting at the desk, going over whatever business they had.
“Are you still angry with me?”
The half smile disappeared. “Do you really want to know?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“No.”
She pursed her lips and waited for more. When there wasn’t any, she raised her eyes to his face. “No? That’s all?”
“Don’t be pushy,” he growled. “You’ll get more than you’ve bargained for.”
“Jesus.” She slid off his lap and carefully straightened her pants. “Fine. Forget that. But I want you to know I’m complaining. Officially. I don’t like this situation with that…that…person.” She pointed accusingly at the folder on the desk. “I don’t like it at all.”
“Don’t worry.” He pulled her down by the end of her braid for a quick kiss. His other hand absently rubbed against her hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I promise everything is going to be all right.”
“You can’t promise that,” she pointed out. “And I can’t seem to stop worrying.”
“You could try.”
She sighed and pulled away from him, already missing his warmth as she headed for the door. “And you could pose nude for me, but that’s never going to happen either.”
He suddenly straightened in the chair. “What?”
She finished her day by playing video games with Christian. He was inordinately pleased that she agreed, and soon they were in front of the television, each mashing on the buttons of their controller, trying to arrange colored blocks in the right positions.
“Fuck,” Christian grumbled. “You’re better at this than I expected.”
Gwen got her rows of blocks to go down farther, and watched in glee as Christian’s went up. “Serves you right,” she said.
“Goddammit!” He threw the controller at the TV and sat fuming. “This is jacked up!”
Gwen hit the pause button and folded her hands. “Don’t get all grumpy because I’m better at this than you.”
He attacked her, his hands tickling her stomach and back. She fell over, laughing and giggling, and actually felt happy for the first time since she woke up. Her fear and nervousnes
s for Eben was forgotten, even if just for a short while.
Eben came to bed that night after midnight. Gwen rolled over groggily as he slid into the bed, reaching for him. “What time is it?”
“Shhhh,” he whispered, biting her neck gently.
Her desire roared up. She was desperate, wanting the feel of him deep inside her where the yearning burned. The need for him was so strong, she could hardly wait.
He kissed her hard, his lips forcing hers to open as his tongue took over, making her groan and cry with wanting.
“Eben, I need you.” She arched as his hand cupped her breast and rubbed over the nipple.
“Shh.” He slid up, his cock huge and pulsing against her stomach. He lowered his hand and cupped her heat, pushing a finger inside her to test her readiness. “You’re wet, Gwen. So wet.”
She cried out, her voice harsh and rough with arousal, telling him how much she wanted him. With his teeth bared, he pulled his finger out of her. “Good enough to eat,” he growled. “But that’s later. Right now, I’m going to love you, my beauty.” He positioned his cock and with a slight thrust, sank halfway into her depths, only to pull out again, and sink in the rest of the way.
Gwen was breathing hard, the heat burning her from the inside out as he pushed inside her, whispering against her ear, telling her how beautiful she was, how tight she was, and how hard he was going to come. He touched her with his hands, his mouth, each caress starting a little fire along her skin until her whole body was ablaze.
“So beautiful,” he murmured again, and he swooped down, taking her mouth firmly.
“I’m close,” she whispered, shuddering as he increased his speed and depth.
He caressed her neck with his fingers and dragged his hand down, tracing the center line of her chest, through the valley of her breasts. He smiled when her breath locked in her lungs, and lunged into her harder until he felt the answering spasms of her tight inner muscles.
She came hard, harder than ever before, each shudder wringing a soft moan from her throat. It went on forever, lasting through his orgasm, and then some. Even afterward, she felt a shadow of the climax as she lay in bed, clinging to him because she needed his closeness.
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