by Bella Jacobs
“Permission to take this man into custody, Alpha?” Hermione asks.
Jimmy nods, then glances over to my mom, who’s been sitting quietly beside Dad on the couch since the shit hit the fan. “Can you go with her? Make sure he doesn’t influence anyone else?”
Mom nods and pops to her feet. “I can and I will. And I’m…so sorry,” she adds in a softer voice. “I don’t know what came back to you, but I could feel that it was…hard. Very hard.”
Jimmy nods, tears in his usually dancing eyes. “It was. Bane was the one. He’s the one who did this to me. Who put me in this chair. Who nearly killed his own father.”
“No father should have to remember something like that,” Cam says as Hermione pulls him to his feet and secures his hands behind him with metal ties from the small pouch on her belt. “It’s too much for a man to bear. I was trying to protect you, Alpha, I was—”
“I suggest you turn your attention to protecting yourself, Cameron,” Jimmy cuts in. “You’re going to need protection. And mercy. Get out of my sight and I’ll do my best to find some in my heart.” Cam starts to speak again, but Jimmy shouts in a surprisingly loud voice, “Go. Now. Before I decide to listen to the part of me that wants to revive public hangings.”
Hermione drags a softly sobbing Cam from the room. My mother follows, squeezing my hand on the way by and whispering, “It’s okay if you want to share the news while I’m gone. I think Jimmy could use something to look forward to.”
“What’s that?” Jimmy asks, his voice rough as his attention shifts from my mother’s departing form to my face. “Good news, I hope?”
I nod. “Yes. Maxim and I… We’re pregnant.”
A pained expression flashes behind his eyes. “Oh. I…” He sighs. “I heard about what happened, Willow. The night before you left. I’m so sorry. I didn’t raise my son that way. Either of them.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” I assure him. “Truly. It’s better than okay. A lot has happened since then and Maxim and I…” I hold up a hand, willing myself to stick to just the most important pieces of information. We don’t have time to hash through everything that’s happened in the past two days. “We’ve worked through all of that and put it behind us. We’re committed to moving forward as a couple and in a really good place, actually.” I gulp air. “Which is why we have to get ready to face Kelley. There isn’t any time to waste. If we don’t stop her tonight…”
I force out the rest of the information, hating every second of hearing the horrible truth aloud, and hating the soft, smug glow of my eyes even more.
I don’t want this to be true.
I want to be wrong with everything in me, but my pack gift isn’t me. It’s magic working through me, and it has no hidden agenda.
It’s simply offering the truth about what’s most likely going to happen, if we’re brave enough to face it.
“And what about Bane?” Jimmy asks when I’m finished. “Why has he suddenly decided to step aside and allow Kelley to rule? That doesn’t sound like my son.”
My jaw drops and my thoughts stutter for a moment. But, of course, he has no idea. No one in the tower does. How could I have forgotten that?
Bane is dead and I’m the one who killed him.
And now I have to tell his father what I’ve done.
Chapter Twelve
Willow
Even though Jimmy is well aware his oldest son is a monster, this is still so hard.
“He attacked us. Maxim and I,” I say in a halting voice. “We were asleep at a hotel on the way back to the city. He was trying to kill his brother and Maxim was already so weak from being tortured. I…”
I dampen my lips and push on. “I only saw one way to stop Bane so…I did what I had to do. He’s dead. I wish I could say I was sorry, but even in the short time I was at his camp it was clear he was beyond redemption, Jimmy. I don’t like to think that about anyone, but with Bane it was the truth. There was too much darkness inside him.” The back of my nose stings as I add, “He was like a black hole.”
Jimmy reaches a hand my way. I cross the room and take it, holding tight as he says, “It’s okay, Willow. You did the right thing and I’ll always be grateful to you for saving my son. And I don’t just mean last night.”
“Me, too,” a soft voice sounds from the doorway to the sitting room and goes straight to my heart.
I turn and run into Maxim’s arms, not stopping until he’s holding me so tight my feet lift off the floor. “You did good, little wolf.”
“I was scared to death,” I confess against the warm skin at his neck. “I’m probably going to wet myself the second I set foot on the battlefield.”
Maxim stiffens against me for a moment, then hugs me even tighter and presses a kiss to the top of my head before putting me down. “You’re not going to the battlefield, Willow.” My lips part, but he raises his voice and pushes on, “I’ve already talked it over with your mom just now in the hall. You’ll stay here with your parents, Hermione, and Dad. That way, if anything happens to me, we have a solid team in place to take care of things here until Diana is old enough to take over.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not leaving you. You need me. You’d be dead right now if it weren’t for me. Twice. You’d be double dead.”
“I know that,” he says, capturing both my hands and leaning down until his eyes are level with mine. “But you’re having our baby. Even if you weren’t, knowing you were there, in danger, with zero combat experience, would be distracting as hell. But now…” He trails off with a shake of his head. “I can’t have you there, little wolf. I just can’t. Please. I need to be able to lead my team without worrying about your safety.”
My eyes fill with tears so fast his face blurs in front of me. “I hate that you’re giving orders again. And I hate that you’re right. And I don’t know if I can do it, just…sit here while you’re so far away and in danger and I know if…” I sniff, but I can’t stop the tears or the words shoving up my throat. “When I know there’s a good chance that I’ll never see you again. That when you leave it will be goodbye. Forever.”
I lose my shit after that. I break down and sob my heart out against Maxim’s chest, even though we don’t have time for this. We don’t have time for feelings and fears and doubt.
But then, maybe we don’t have time to ignore them, either.
If this is the last day, the last few hours I’ll ever have with the man the universe, in all her wisdom, made for me, I don’t want to waste a second of it. I don’t want to hide what I feel. I don’t want to pull away and shut down. I want to get as close to Maxim—and make as many memories—as I can get.
Finally, I cry myself out and step out of Maxim’s arms, accepting the tissue my dad has waiting for me. Because that’s the man my dad is—he has always anticipated what people need and done his best to provide it.
And that’s who Maxim is, too, though in a bossier, Alpha way.
But that’s part of what I love about him. That his love feels familiar, but also brand new.
“You’d better come back to me,” I tell him, swiping at my dripping nose. “If you don’t, I’m going to name the kid Fergus.”
“I hate that name,” Maxim says in a voice that says “I love you. Always. No matter what.”
Fighting to keep it together, I lift my chin. “Then you’d better get your ass back here safely tomorrow.” I prop my hands on my hips. “Now, how do we do the whole ‘getting ready to fight the bad guys’ thing? Are we going to need snacks? Pep talks? Maybe a montage?”
Jimmy smiles through his own tears. “Oh, yeah. We’re going to need a montage and lots of good music to get the people ready to fight. I’ll call the guys and gals in the band and get them down to the Atrium.” He glances my dad’s way. “You look like a guy who can play a harmonica, Harvey.”
Dad smiles. “I’m tone deaf and dance like the whitest white man ever born. But I love live music.”
Jimmy laughs. “Perfect. You’ll prov
ide the comic relief. Come with me. Meet you in half an hour in the boardroom, son?”
“Sounds perfect, Dad,” Maxim says, leaning down to catch Jimmy on his way by and hugging his shoulders. “I love you, and I’m grateful to you. And I always will be.”
Jimmy embraces his son so tightly it breaks my heart all over again. “And I love you, son. And I’m proud of you, even when you make mistakes. Because you learn from them, and you try so damned hard. You’re going to be twice the Alpha I was. I can’t wait to see you grow.” He pulls back, cupping Maxim’s face in both of his hands. “And that son of yours will be a lucky boy. No doubt in my mind.”
By the time Jimmy and Dad leave, I’m crying again, but at a sustainable rate of tears per minute. When Maxim asks, “Do you want me to take you up to the apartment before I head to the war room? You can take a nap or—”
“Nope,” I say, cutting him off with a shake of my head. “I’m coming with you. I’ll stay here when you leave, but until then I’m your shadow. Just in case you need my expert advice on battle formations or sneak attacks or something.”
His lips quirk as he brushes my hair from my forehead. “I think you have more important things to offer than that. I’d like you to share your vision again with the full council. See what our prophecy experts think about it.”
I sniff and swipe my cheeks dry, determined to pull myself together and stay together. “Yeah, it doesn’t really gel with the prophecy, does it? But the vision wasn’t like anything I’ve seen before, either. It was like the future was…split. Like there were two versions of everything happening at once. And there was a strange…shadow over the version where Diana rules. Not like there’s anything wrong with Diana or she won’t do a good job, just…like the world was really stressful in that version of events, but very chill in the other. The contrast was a little nauseating to experience.” I sigh. “But maybe that’s a normal thing that happens for Pathfinders. I honestly don’t have enough experience with my pack gift to know for sure.”
“We’ll talk to Dad; he should be able to shine some light on that,” he says, his features softening as he adds, “That was really good to hear. What he said before. If this is almost the end, I’m glad we said goodbye that way.”
I take one of his hands in mine and give it a shake. “No more of that. Positive thoughts only. Your people are counting on you. Not to mention your son. Because I wasn’t kidding. I’ll do it. I’ll name him Fergus. Or something worse. I’m sure, given the time to mull it over, I will be able to think of something worse”
Maxim arches a brow. “Then I’ll have to come back and haunt you. As punishment.” He pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight. “That’s another reason I need to live. I really need to spank you.”
I nuzzle my face closer to his soft sweater and the rock-hard chest beneath, trying to take comfort in how strong he feels right now. “Like, in a sexual way, I’m assuming? Not a ‘punishing my disobedient wife’ way?”
“Right. We should do that,” he says, tensing as he pulls back to gaze down at my face. “After the meeting, but before I leave.”
I arch a brow. “I mean, if spanking me is on your bucket list, I guess I—”
“No, not that. Get married. Say our vows. That way, if I don’t make it back, there won’t be any doubt about your position in the pack. You’ll be treated like any other widow. You’ll be given my property and all assets not belonging to the—”
I press two fingers to his lips. “I don’t want your property or assets. I want you. And I want a big cheesy wedding with a party after. I want to celebrate this choice, not rush through it because a bunch of assholes are being assholes.” I nibble my lip. “Speaking of assholes, there’s something I forgot to tell you. About my vision. It’s not a big deal, but Pax is going to parachute onto the roof of the tower sometime later this afternoon.”
Maxim’s eyes widen. “What?”
I wave a hand. “It’s fine. He’ll get tangled up in the playground equipment and taken into custody without hurting anyone, even himself. But we should have someone ready to interrogate him. See if there’s any other trouble coming from Victor’s direction.” I shake my head, adding in a wry tone, “It’s hard to imagine I was ever terrified of either of them. There are so many scarier things to be afraid of now.”
“Just because someone’s holding you at gunpoint doesn’t mean a knife can’t kill you,” Maxim says. “Every threat should be taken seriously. And we should establish some sort of protocol for cataloguing everything you see as soon as you see it. That way nothing gets lost.”
I nod. “You’re right. I was so overwhelmed by everything else and certain Pax wasn’t going to hurt anyone that his part fell by the wayside, but it shouldn’t have. And if we have a procedure in place, something I do automatically every time I experience my pack gift, that will be less likely to happen.”
He grins, his chest puffing up as he crosses his arms.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, I just enjoy those two words on your lips.” He sighs then adds in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, “You’re right, Maxim.”
“That’s three words, jerk,” I say, swatting his arm. “And I don’t sound like that. My voice is a melodious song.”
He laughs as he grabs my ass and gives me a playful swat in return. “It is. Especially when you’re coming.” He swats me again, sending a prickle of excitement across my skin. “I could listen to that on repeat for hours.”
I squeeze his biceps through his sweater, humming low in my throat. “We should definitely explore sexy spanking, I think. As soon as you get home.” I tip my head back, welcoming the kiss he presses to my lips.
Home.
That’s what he is to me now. This tower is a beautiful place to live, but Maxim is my home.
I can’t lose him. I just can’t.
But I might, and I will have to keep on living, thriving even, when he’s gone. I owe our son a mother who’s fully alive, not lost to grief. Even if I end up raising this baby alone, I will never regret bringing him into the world. At least that much of Maxim will remain, no matter what.
The thought offers some comfort.
Just not nearly enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Diana
As expected, Cranky isn’t amenable to helping me ditch my V Card—he turns me down with a hard eye roll and a “no way in hell.”
Unexpectedly, he unties me without further debate and heads back outside.
“Um, thanks?” I rub at my wrists and stare at the open door through which he disappeared, expecting him to stomp back inside any minute. But he doesn’t. I’m alone in the sudden silence for several minutes, and then I hear the crack of his axe hitting wood.
He’s splitting logs.
He’s out there splitting fucking logs while the fate of the world hangs in the balance and his brother is being held prisoner by a pair of sociopaths.
With a huff, I swing my feet off the bed, but instead of charging across the room, my legs buckle, and I end up in a trembling tangle of limbs on the rough wood floor.
I curse and squeeze my eyes shut. I have to eat something, or I won’t have the energy to give Cranky a piece of my mind, let alone save Jacob.
Crawling over to the table, I drag myself to my feet, focusing on pulling in long, deep breaths as the world spins around me. I’m not the kind of girl who faints. I run almost every day. I play field hockey and back in the old days, before Maxim started treating me like a prisoner, I could dance from midnight to sunrise without a break.
The fact that I can barely stay upright as I toddle over to Cranky’s primitive kitchen to poke around in his cupboards should give me serious pause about my fitness to fight.
But it doesn’t. I refuse to give up that easily.
I’m sick of sitting on the sidelines or being locked away in my tower while everyone else calls the shots. And sure, in hindsight, maybe helping Willow escape wasn’t the best idea, but I pulled it off. I liberate
d a woman from one of the most fiercely defended pieces of property in Manhattan.
I’m smarter and more capable than most of the people in my life give me credit for. And I’m not some spoiled, naïve, useless little virgin.
Jacob’s brother is seriously underestimating my value as an ally.
“So, change his mind,” I mutter as I drag a loaf of what looks like homemade bread and a jar of hippy nut butter off the shelf and locate a knife. I make myself a quick sandwich and eat, moaning in a mixture of pleasure and relief as the sweetness of almonds and the faintly sour taste of the bread explode on my tongue. A beat later, my aching stomach starts a party in my midsection.
I don’t know if this is the best sandwich ever—or if I’m just half-starved—but I swear I can feel it giving me life. And hope.
And ideas…
I demolish my first snack, pour myself a glass of water from a jug on the counter, and make another sandwich—this one with extra almond butter. I pace the room on stronger legs as I chew, putting together my argument.
After a third sandwich and an apple I find in a cool storage area beneath the sink, I tidy up and head outside.
Lifting a hand, I squint into the sun, relieved to see it’s still high in the sky. There’s plenty of time before nightfall. Plenty of time to either win Cranky over or escape from his clutches.
Though, he doesn’t seem to be too interested in holding me prisoner anymore…
As I wander outside, he glances up from his wood splitting for only a moment before getting back to business. He has his flannel shirt off now and his skin gleams nut brown in the sun, his powerful muscles rippling as he swings the axe.
He’s an impressive specimen, no doubt about that, but not my type at all. I like lean, cocky, smartass boys who know what to do with a skateboard, not socially backward hermits. And I like boys I have a connection with. I want to sleep with Jacob because I love Jacob—his soul and his heart, not just his body.
