by Rhian Cahill
He had to agree with Brogan’s assessment. At some point Marcus had crossed a line. Quinn only hoped it wasn’t Rowan’s return that made him snap but knew it was a fruitless wish. With the pack’s royal now back, Brogan’s position as sovereign strengthened and so did his as regal. There had never really been a threat to their appointed status, but the trouble Marcus caused while they guided the pack made it harder to move forward and cement all their futures.
If he let himself be honest he’d have to admit the only sure way to see the pack prosper for generations to come would be to remove Marcus. The council would never vote to exile any pack member without hard evidence and until Marcus slipped up they were stuck with him.
Chapter Eight
Rowan woke to bright sunshine and an empty bed. Curled under the quilt, she took her time stretching the kinks of sleep from her body. A glimpse of the clock told her it was well past time to get up. Muffled noises from below could be heard over the twitter of a bird outside the window. She rolled over and stretched her arms above her head, arched her back and popped bones stiff from slumber and overuse.
Sleep encrusted eyes squinted at the blaze of light through the open blind. She had to remember to close that before going to bed tonight. Mornings weren’t her favorite time of the day. She’d go so far as saying she hated them and with her usual reluctance she threw back the covers and crawled out of bed. Her fists scrubbed at her eyelids as she made her way to the bathroom to attend to the need suddenly making its presence known low in her belly.
The house may have been kept a comfortable temperature but the warmth hadn’t extended as far as the toilet seat. The shock of cold to her ass and thighs sucked the breath from her lungs. She couldn’t get done quickly enough and shivered from top to toe while her bladder emptied out. Finished, she debated a shower but decided to find out where Quinn was first. Walking through the bedroom, she picked up last night’s clothes a piece at a time, like a treasure hunt she collected articles and threw them on.
Her teeth felt furry and she was sure to have morning breath but before she could return to the bathroom to fix either the smell of coffee filtered into the room. Closely followed by Quinn. She growled and lunged for the mug in his hand. He handed it over readily and she gulped down the lukewarm contents, the strong, dark blend well on its way to improving her day.
Quinn’s chuckle skipped over her nerves and danced down her spine. He leaned in to place a kiss on her nose. “You’re cute all sleep rumpled and grumpy.”
“Grumpy? Who’s grumpy? I’m too brain dead to manage grumpy yet.”
He took the empty cup from her and gripping her shoulder in one large hand, turned her toward the bathroom. A little nudge and he pushed her a step away. “Go get showered, you need to get ready to face the day.”
About to protest about getting another coffee, it wasn’t words that left her mouth. With a yelp, she jumped as Quinn’s hand slapped her on the ass to get her moving. Peering over her shoulder with slitted eyes, she mumbled about rough treatment and missed coffee but did as he’d suggested and went to take a shower. His laughter echoed around the room. The only thing stopping her from smacking him back was his promise of more coffee when she was done.
Rowan kept her shower short. The enticement of fresh brewed coffee and a rumbling stomach too much to ignore. Wrapped in a towel, she went in search of clean clothes. The dresser produced underwear and T-shirts; in the wardrobe she found jeans and jackets. Everything she’d sent home with Brogan had been laundered and put away. Either someone came in and cleaned house for her brother and Quinn or they’d become very domesticated over the years. She imaged the two alphas in aprons and gloves scrubbing bathrooms and mopping floors.
Laughing, she left the room and went downstairs. Her sock covered feet made no sound as she descended the stairs and followed her nose to the kitchen. The deep tones of Quinn’s voice could be heard through the door and Rowan’s nerves did a little dance in response. But the second she pushed the door open every part of her centered on the coffee pot in the corner. Zeroing in on the machine, she grabbed a cup off the counter and was sipping on liquid good morning in seconds. Eyes closed, she savored the hot brew.
“I see you’ve grown to love mornings, Rowan.” Brogan’s voice spoke in her ear just before he kissed the top of her head.
Opening her eyes, she met his gaze, his laughing, hers narrowed with mock anger. “Aren’t we the jokester this morning?”
Quinn chuckled. “Told you she was the same sunny Rowan.”
“Humph.” She turned back to refill her mug and ignored both of them.
Brogan ruffled her damp hair like he used to do when they were younger. Emotion choked her, tears stung her eyes and clogged her throat. She sucked in a breath, chewed on her bottom lip and willed the tears away. Concentrating on the view out the window, Rowan swallowed past the lump in her throat. A couple of deep breaths and she was under control again, the urge to bawl her eyes out gone.
With a smile on her face, she turned away from the window. Mug full of coffee, Rowan walked over and pulled out a stool. Perched on the seat, she watched as her brother went back to cooking bacon and Quinn popped bread into the toaster. They worked together efficiently to get breakfast on the table, it didn’t take long before she found herself with a plate load of bacon, scrambled eggs and toast.
Timber scraped on tile as Quinn and Brogan sat down next to her. Stomach rumbling, Rowan forked up a mouthful of eggs. Flavor exploded on her tongue. Cheese, egg, garlic and onion combined in a fluffy delicious mixture of breakfast heaven. Her tummy gurgled in delight as the first bite hit. Another scoop and her taste buds tingled. Suddenly ravenous, she couldn’t shovel it in fast enough. The crispy bacon soon followed the eggs. With her plate scraped clean, she pushed it away.
Washing the wonderful meal down with some coffee, Rowan looked up to find both men staring at her.
“What?”
Neither of them said a word.
“Well, what?” This silence was a little unnerving. She felt like a bug under a microscope.
“Do you want more?” Quinn asked, pushing his still full plate toward her.
“No. I want to talk about what’s going on today.” Rowan pushed back from the bench. “But first I want a refill.”
Mug in hand, she headed for the pot and topped off her cup with the last of the strong blend. “That’s the last of it. Should I make another pot?”
“I’m fine.” Brogan held up his hand.
“I’ll pass and you should slow down too. What’s that? Your fourth?” Quinn asked.
“I wasn’t keeping count but I can tell you I’m nowhere near my limit yet.”
Rowan sat back down, warm mug in hand and started the conversation she knew they had to have. “So, when are we going into town?”
“We’re not. William called this morning. He’ll be coming out to see us after lunch,” Brogan informed her.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he agrees with us that you shouldn’t meet the rest of the pack yet,” Quinn said. “And he’d like to talk to you away from everyone else first.”
“Oh.” Rowan could guess what William would ask her about. She wasn’t sure if she was up to talking about why she’d left but ready or not the time had come to tell all.
“In the meantime I thought I’d take a walk in the forest and see if our late night visitor left any other clues to their identity. Want to come with me?” Quinn asked.
“Definitely.” She gulped down the last of her coffee. “Just let me get some warmer clothes on and I’ll be ready.”
Rowan dumped her dirty dishes in the sink and rushed from the room. The thrill of getting out in the forest again energizing her more than the bucket load of caffeine she’d consumed. Maybe they could shift and go for a run after they’d scouted around. Smiling, she charged up the stairs two at a time.
“Do you think it’s wise to take her out with you?”
Brogan’s question
wasn’t unexpected. He’d thought about taking her with him all morning but in the end Quinn knew Rowan was more than ready to face her life here. He planned for them to share this life, and that meant the good and the bad.
“She’ll be fine.” He picked up his plate and took it to the sink. “I doubt she would let me go out without her anyway, and we both know I’m the best tracker out of the two of us so it would be me going out there.” Dish rinsed and stacked in the sink, he went back to where Brogan sat.
“She does look better than the first time I saw her.”
Reminded of how fragile she’d looked, Quinn frowned. “Yeah, she’s always been tough, but watching her these last two days…” He shook his head. “Rowan has an inner strength that she hasn’t even begun to tap into.”
“Well let’s hope she won’t need to but, knowing Marcus the way I do, I’m sure she will.”
“Yes, but this time we’ll be there to back her up.”
Brogan stood. “Yes.”
They cleared the rest of the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. With the kitchen spotless, they headed to the living room to wait for Rowan. Brogan stoked the fire while Quinn shoved his feet into his boots. The heat had done its job and dried his jacket since the wee hours of the morning. Lacing up his left shoe, he heard footsteps on the stairs and hastened to tie the right one. The crash that echoed from the hall had him on his feet and running from the room with Brogan on his heels.
Skidding to a halt, he stared at Rowan buried beneath a pile of boxes, shoes and jackets. The wide-open closet doors and her colorful choice of language revealed where the crash had come from. He’d been meaning to clear that cupboard out for months, looked like she’d done his job for him.
Quinn reached down and pulled her off the floor. She came up with a pair of boots, one in each hand. He recognized them; they normally sat on the top shelf out of the way. How had she managed to cause the avalanche when they’d been right in front?
“Damn. You pulled the whole shelf down, Rowan.” Brogan had his head in the closet, inspecting the damage.
“If you didn’t have all that junk up there it wouldn’t have happened.” Rowan pouted.
The look on her face made him laugh. He remembered her attempting to use that look on them when she was a teenager and needed to keep out of trouble. Some things hadn’t changed at all. Quinn pulled her close and hugged her. Kissing the top of her head, he set her aside and helped Brogan put everything back in the cupboard. They’d go through it all later and throw out what they didn’t need.
Behind him, Rowan pulled on her snow boots. He tossed a jacket at her, what she had on wouldn’t keep the cold out for long. With the last shoe thrown back in, Quinn slammed the doors and hoped they all remembered to be careful next time they went in the closet. Brogan turned to him and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Watch your backs. I’ve got a feeling we haven’t seen the last of our midnight guest and I want you both prepared for anything.”
“No worries. We’ll stick to the tracks if they’re still clear and head back in as soon as we lose the trail.”
“Stop acting like a big brother and best friend and start thinking like a sovereign,” Rowan said.
“As sovereign I should be going out there.”
“No, you should be sending out your best tracker. You might think I’m not ready to be Quinn’s backup but I’m all you’ve got right now and I am capable of defending myself if there’s trouble.”
Before Brogan could change his mind, Quinn ushered Rowan out the door. “I’m not expecting anyone to still be out there, Brogan. We’ll be careful.”
“Don’t take unnecessary risks.” Brogan turned to point at Rowan. “That goes for you too.”
Rowan rolled her eyes and leaped off the porch. He gave Brogan a reassuring smile and followed her. The snow level hadn’t risen since he was out here earlier. With any luck the snowmobile tracks would be nice and clear. As she lead the way across the yard, Quinn scanned the tree line to make sure he was right and there wasn’t someone hanging around.
The sun had a bit of warmth to it. Soft snow squished under his boots and by the end of the day a lot of what had fallen last night would have melted away. They stopped at the tree line, with daylight it proved easy to see the trench from the snowmobile and the strips of cloth flapping in the gentle breeze. Rowan walked over to where the fabric hung in the tree and examined it closely.
“It was ripped free when he was leaving.”
“How can you tell that?”
“The branch it’s snagged on is facing toward the house, if he brushed past on the way to throw the rock nothing would have caught.”
Quinn stepped over and looked at what she was talking about. “You’re right. So after throwing the rock our friendly visitor made a run for it but before that he sat here watching the house.”
They both stood near the dent in the snow bank and turned to look at the house. Quinn crouched to where he thought he’d be if he were astride a snowmobile. He had a clear line of vision straight into Rowan’s old room. In fact the view was so good he’d be able to see her if she were standing at the window.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.
“Come on. Let’s see where these tracks go.” She tugged on his sleeve.
He needed to punch something. The thought of someone watching her boiled his blood. His suspicion of who their spy was made it worse. Rowan entwined her fingers with his and pulled him hard to get him moving. Before they took two steps, Quinn yanked her back into his arms. He buried his face in the side of her neck, breathed deep and held her tight. The comfort of holding her close and knowing she was safe eased his anger and focused his mind.
Twin grooves led them through the forest in the direction of the mountain road that led to Whispering Ridge. A thirty-minute trek had Quinn sweating and he turned to see how Rowan was doing. He needn’t have worried. She’d proven herself more than fit in the last two days and this little stroll in the woods didn’t bother her. When they reached the gravel road the trail stopped. Another set of tracks took up on the road. Someone had driven a four-wheel drive up here recently. One that had been parked right where the snowmobile disappeared.
With no way of telling the type of vehicle or owner, they reached a dead end. Again. A game of cat and mouse was the last thing Quinn wanted to play but as usual Marcus led them on a merry chase. He sighed, turned back to head the way they’d come. Rowan stood off to the side, her face all scrunched up in concentration.
“What?”
“I’m not sure.” She took a deep breath. “Can you smell that?”
Quinn sucked in a breath. Slowly. The air was scented with coyote. Not natural but shifter. Two different individuals. Neither of them familiar to him. And if he wasn’t mistaken, newly turned. It didn’t make any sense but he wasn’t going to hang around to work it out.
“Let’s go.”
He grabbed Rowan’s hand and started jogging. There was no time to waste; he wanted her back at the house, safe from possible danger. It was rare for new coyotes to show up in Whispering Springs, even rarer for a human to show up and be turned. Scenting two on the air couldn’t be good news. Quinn pushed her in front of him, let her hand go as she took the hint and ran in front of him.
They could run the distance in less than half the time it took them to walk. He could hear Rowan’s labored breath ahead of him. Her long legs ate up the ground and he had to stretch to keep up with her. It wasn’t enough. About half a mile from the clearing, two coyotes came at them from the side. Quinn went down hard as one of them slammed into his ribs. He rolled, pushed to his feet and ran. Thankful to see Rowan hadn’t stopped, he followed.
Flashes of red flickered through the trees in front of him and he knew Rowan was on her feet and running as hard as she could. A glimpse of gray to the right was the only warning before one of the animals crashed into his legs, taking him to the ground again. The second coyote landed on his back stopping him from some
rsaulting to his feet but the momentum took them tumbling over the snow. He used his legs and arms to lash out and stop teeth from connecting with flesh.
Two on one wasn’t a fair fight but Quinn couldn’t worry about that now. He had to get free of these two. His fist smashed into the side of a head, bones crunched and pain seared up his arm. A boot connected with ribs, a nauseating crack and yelp of pain followed. Given a reprieve, Quinn jumped to his feet and sprinted after Rowan. No longer able to see her, he used his ears to listen but couldn’t hear anything over his own harsh breathing and pounding heart.
Leg muscles burned. Pushing hard, he leaped over a fallen log. Between the trees, he made out the clearing, a blaze of red streaking across the white snow. He cleared the tree line only to be tackled again. Pain sliced into his knee and hip when he crashed to the ground. Air exploded from his chest and he could do nothing but gasp in agony. Jaws snapped, tore at fabric and ripped at skin. Stunned, he curled up and protected his neck with his arms.
“Quinn!”
Rowan’s scream echoed over the yard, the blood-curdling shriek froze the blood in his veins. Sheer terror lanced his heart. Were there more than two of them? Adrenalin and coyote kicked in. He struck out, hit flesh and bone and kept going. Blow after blow landed with a sickening thud, each one stronger than the last. Unable to shift with the two animals attacking him, he had no choice except to fight in human form but a partial shift would give him strength, teeth and claws to do more damage. To hold the half shift took skill and concentration but Quinn was determined to win and save Rowan.
Nothing short of death would stop him reaching her. Protecting her.
Chapter Nine
Her lungs burned with each choppy breath. Her legs screamed in pain and the stitch in her side threatened to double her over but she kept running. Every second counted. The house was in sight now, so close, just across the clearing. Pounding feet and paws echoed behind her and she fought the urge to turn around. She couldn’t waste the time. Getting to the house and Brogan could be their only hope.
