Lure of Oblivion (Mercury Pack Book 3)

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Lure of Oblivion (Mercury Pack Book 3) Page 23

by Suzanne Wright


  As a rule, Gwen didn’t trust any situation in which she got what she wanted. She’d been confused by his interest, hadn’t trusted it, so she’d slammed up her guard. Now? Now there seemed no point. Holding him at a distance hadn’t worked. Trying to push him away hadn’t worked. Feigning disinterest in him and his life to offend him hadn’t worked.

  He was like a freaking emotional tank. Solid. Resilient. Just kept on forging ahead, able and willing to smash whatever obstructed his path. If he said she was who he wanted, fine. She wasn’t gonna argue. Not anymore.

  “Do you wish you had a good reason?” Zander asked carefully.

  Gwen took a long breath. “No.”

  Triumph surged through Zander, and his wolf settled a little. He tightened his hold on her. “Then don’t fight this. Let it happen. Go with it. Let yourself be fucking happy.”

  “Want the truth?”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “You do make me happy . . . and not only because you make a pretty picture naked beneath me.” She smiled dreamily. “Very, very pretty.”

  His mouth curved. “And you make me happy. But I’m not pretty. I am, however, naked. As are you.” He rolled them and urged her to wrap her legs around him. “I think we should make the most of that.”

  “I think it would be a crime not to.”

  “Good.” He angled her hips and drove his cock deep.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Joining his pack mates on the flattened grassy area not far from the rear of the house, Zander asked, “Any sign of him?”

  “Someone’s been creeping around the southern border of the land,” said Derren, “but I can’t be sure it was Rory.”

  Zander lifted a questioning brow at Bracken. “What did you see?”

  “There were some wolf paw prints on the eastern side,” began Bracken, “and they were too big to be those of a full-blooded wolf. My guess is that it was Rory.”

  Zander clenched his jaw. His blood boiled at the thought of his brother anywhere near Gwen. It had been more than a week since Rory had tried to take her, and they’d checked the land daily for signs that he’d been nearby. Today was the first time that they’d found any, which likely meant that Rory was done waiting for Zander to hunt him.

  Shaya had been furious to hear that Rory had harmed Gwen. She’d taken an immediate liking to Zander’s human, apparently. And when Zander had shared that he and Ally were certain that Gwen was his mate, the rest of his pack became just as pissed about Rory’s test.

  Given the shit that Nick had previously spouted, Zander had expected the Alpha to be disappointed to hear that Gwen was his mate. If he was, he’d given no indication of it. He’d simply said, “Keep her safe, Zander. Take it from someone who watched his parent fall apart after she lost her mate—you’d be a shell of a man without her. I don’t want that for you.”

  His Alpha was right on that score, but Zander was resolute that he’d never know how that felt. He’d never have to be without her. No one would take her from him, especially not Rory. The asshole had hurt her once—he wouldn’t get another chance. Zander would make sure of it.

  Ally took a step toward him. “I know your instinct is to hunt Rory and eradicate the threat to your mate, but it won’t be that simple. For one thing, he’s your twin.”

  “Don’t think that means anything to me right now,” Zander rumbled. “Blood doesn’t make family. Rory isn’t my family. Never was. Gwen—she’s everything. If I have to kill him to keep her safe, that’s what I’ll do.” His wolf was behind him all the way.

  “Gwen won’t like to think that you killed your twin for her,” Ally gently pointed out. “She’s the type of person who’d worry that it killed something inside you and that you’ll one day hate her for it.”

  “She’s also the type of person who fully understands that sharing someone’s DNA doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  Ally inclined her head, conceding that. “While we’re on the subject of Gwen . . . have you decided when you’re going to tell her that you believe she’s your mate?”

  He sighed. “I’m working up to it.”

  “She’s a lot more relaxed with you now. She seems really happy.”

  Bracken slipped his hands in his pockets. “Do you think it will be hard to convince her to leave here and move to pack territory? She works for Yvonne and her soon-to-be brother-in-law, and she keeps a close watch on the whole family. She might feel like moving away would be abandoning them.”

  “I worry about that.” Ally paused to swat at a mosquito. “But Marlon and Yvonne will bodily throw her out if it comes to it—they want her happy, and they think Zander can give it to her. I haven’t told them that she’s your true mate, just in case you’re wondering.”

  “She’ll join the pack,” said Zander, confident.

  Derren tilted his head. “What makes you so sure?”

  “She’s full of questions about the pack, our culture, the laws we abide by.” She quizzed Zander daily. “In my opinion, she’s always been fascinated by wolf shifters for a reason—deep down in her soul, she knew she belonged to one. She subconsciously knew she’d be part of a pack one day. She’s ready for it. Hungry for it on some level.”

  “He’s right,” said Ally. “When she’s with us, when we’re together as a group, something in her sort of . . . settles. I can’t explain it. But it makes me think that joining our pack won’t be a big problem for her. Leaving her family will be, though. You can’t ignore that, Zander. You have to face it so you can think of the best way to deal with it.”

  A cool breeze slid over Zander, bringing with it the scents of wet grass, salty water, and . . . human males. He stiffened. “We have visitors.”

  Derren nostrils flared, and then he tensed. “Where’s Gwen?”

  “She’s inside the house; she’ll be fine,” said Zander.

  Bracken lifted his brows. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Suds splattered on the ground as Gwen scrubbed the side of the truck with the wet sponge. Soapy water pooled at her feet and dotted her legs. Her tank top and denim shorts were wet with soap and water, but the air was so hot and dry that they wouldn’t be damp for long. Her sunglasses protected her eyes from the shards of sunlight that bounced off the wet, clean paint.

  Washing her truck was not her favorite pastime, but she’d needed something to do. She was used to new guests arriving at least once a week—used to having rooms to clean, linen to launder, Welcome Hampers to prepare, and people to take on tours around the marsh.

  It was strange to have so much time on her hands. Hell, she’d been so bored, she’d even cleaned her own room. Marlon and Yvonne had made it worse by fussing over her. Needing some air and space, she’d turned to her dirty truck.

  Having something to do also helped distract her from thoughts of Kenny and the Moores. On the evening of the day she’d met with Kenny, Geena had called to say that he’d seemed very happy after the meeting. He’d supposedly contacted Ezra Moore and instructed him to back off.

  So far, his instruction had worked. There had been no more attacks or problems. Gwen wasn’t confident that things would remain so calm, though. Not when the people in question were laws unto themselves.

  Zander’s tension hadn’t eased either, but she suspected that was partly due to the lingering threat that Rory presented. She wasn’t worried about that moron because, well, he was a moron. But she could happily shoot him right in the dick for toying with Zander and using her to do so.

  It was laughable to be protective of someone who was a gazillion times stronger than she was. If anyone could take care of himself, it was Zander Devlin. He didn’t need her. It was both strange and . . . uplifting to be around someone who didn’t need her to be the strong one.

  Hanna, Yvonne, Julie, and Marlon had all used her as a crutch to some extent. Hanna was a lost cause, but Gwen had shaken free of her as a child. The others didn’t need her so much anymore. Julie now had Chase, and Marlon’s inne
r strength had bloomed once he’d admitted he was gay and stopped forcing himself to be something he wasn’t. Now that Yvonne no longer had her husband browbeating her, she was better too. Oh, she still liked burying her head in the sand, but she didn’t lean so much on Gwen anymore.

  Gwen loved her family, had no problem being there for them, but she’d never really realized just how tired she’d been of always being their rock. Not until Zander came along, offering his support, protection, and strength. It had been so tempting to just accept what he offered and let him take the weight of everything, but she’d resisted at first. Really, he’d just seemed too good to be true—definitely too good to be truly interested in someone like her.

  She’d given up resisting, and she felt lighter for it. She still thought that a female shifter might suit him better, but who was she to tell another person what was or wasn’t good for them? Or what they did and didn’t want? It was insulting, really. Zander was a full-grown man who had his own mind.

  Done scrubbing the window, she swiped her forehead with the back of her hand and then dropped the sponge in the bucket. Iridescent bubbles slithered down the red paint and onto her shoes. Nice. Picking up the hose, she turned it on. Water blasted from it, rinsing the soap from the car and dripping on the ground. It was as she turned off that hose that she heard the chuckles. Familiar, irritating chuckles.

  Gwen spun on her heel. Brandt was leaning against Marlon’s car, arms crossed, smirking smugly. He obviously knew about the deal she’d made with his father, and he was here to gloat. Yeah, she’d figured he’d do something stupid sooner or later. He just couldn’t help himself.

  Rowan and Mack stood a few feet behind him, eyeing the hose nervously—they apparently had the sense to consider that she may want to use it on them. Brandt . . . he was too caught up in this “I have the upper hand” moment. It pissed her off that she’d have to let him think he did. Inside her, pride warred with the need to be smart, and smart barely won out.

  Brandt lifted his hands. “I’m not here to give you trouble, Gwen.”

  Well, that would be a first. “If you have any sense in your head, you’ll leave now.”

  “I just wanted to say that I’m glad you finally saw reason, that’s all.”

  “Saw reason?”

  “I get that you’re upset about the stuff I did to you. What’s sad is that we could have avoided all that if you’d just seen reason a lot earlier.” He shook his head with a sigh, as if she’d been acting like a brat all this time.

  Anger surged through her, hot and sharp. He could not be believed. “I’m not sure if you genuinely believe that all you did is my fault and not a consequence of you being a fucking turd. I also don’t care. Just. Go.”

  His smirk died a quick death. “There’s no call for speaking to me like that, Gwen. I would have thought you were smarter than that.” Like he was someone big and important whom she should quiver before. Unreal.

  “You think you’re tough and scary, Brandt? Is that what it is?” She snickered in disbelief, giving him a withering look. “It doesn’t take a gynecologist’s opinion to know you’re a pussy.”

  Eyes blazing, he pushed off Marlon’s car. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

  “I don’t see you going around harassing male loners. Oh, no. You went for the female. Know why? You’re weak, Brandt. You’ll always be weak. That was why you drugged Andie before you attacked her—you were too chicken shit to take her on while she was at full strength. You go around town, acting like a first-class asshole, and then hide behind Daddy. So, yeah, you’re a pussy.”

  He balled up his hands. “Didn’t Rowan once warn you that your mouth was going to get you in trouble one day? You should’ve listened, Gwen.”

  Rowan quickly slid in front of him and put a hand on his chest. “Brandt, you heard your dad—you can’t touch her. If she reneges on the deal, you’ll be on Shit Street.”

  Mack nodded. “Come on, man, this ain’t worth it.”

  Brandt hissed at them through his teeth. “No one speaks to me like that. She’s gonna damn well pay for it.” He shoved Rowan aside, only to come to an abrupt halt. Gwen frowned, confused, but then Zander’s hand smoothed up her back as he silently sidled up to her from behind.

  “Everything all right here?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said, gaze still locked on the asshole in front of her. “You know, I had no idea that pussy lips could talk. My mind is blown.”

  Brandt sneered as he studied them. “I heard you were rubbing yourself all over some shifter at Half ’n’ Half. What does it say about you, Gwen, that you gotta fuck other species because your own doesn’t want you? How’s that bestiality thing working out for you?”

  Zander looked at her. “I’m confused. Is he trying to be funny or intimidating?”

  She shrugged, scratching her nape. “I always struggle trying to figure that one out. Either way, he fails dramatically, so I don’t suppose it matters.”

  Zander took a slow, predatory step closer to the human boys, and they each shuffled backward—he wasn’t even sure if they’d done it consciously. As he’d crept up to the house, he’d heard enough of the conversation to know the visitors were Brandt and his friends. Pissed didn’t begin to describe how he felt as he stared at the male who’d harassed and almost assaulted his mate. His wolf swiped at Brandt with his claws.

  Arching a daring brow at Brandt, Zander said, “You’re not going to give me shit? You only mouth off when you’re dealing with females?”

  Brandt swallowed hard and then jutted out his chin. “This is between me and Gwen.”

  “No, kid, it’s not. You got a problem with Gwen, I become your problem. You piss her off, you deal with me. And trust me, kid, you don’t want to deal with me. You can’t. I can see in your eyes that you know that.”

  Brandt’s breathing sped up. “There’re three of us. There’s only one of you.”

  “No, there really isn’t,” said Bracken, coming up behind the boys. They whirled to face him, wide-eyed. That was when Derren and Ally came out from behind the SUV and moved so that the humans were then surrounded by the four shifters.

  Brandt spun back to face Gwen. “Call off your guard dogs.”

  “You think I don’t know that you’re terrified?” Zander asked. “I can smell your fear.” His wolf relished it. “So there’s no point in making ballsy little comments. You’re just making yourself look stupid.”

  “Maybe he simply is stupid,” suggested Derren.

  “It’s a strong possibility,” allowed Zander. “I tell you what, kid. You and me can take care of this right now. We’ll battle it out here. Your friends can even join in and help you. My pack mates will stand back; I don’t need the backup. What do you say?”

  Rowan grabbed Brandt’s arm and whispered, “Dude, we need to go.”

  Brandt glowered at his friend. “You’re scared of some fucking animals?”

  “Yeah,” said Rowan, unashamed. “And so are you.”

  Mack shifted from foot to foot. “I knew we shouldn’t have come. Let’s just go.”

  Brandt’s eyes sliced back to Zander. “You wouldn’t be protecting her if you knew the truth.”

  Rowan’s eyes widened. “Fuck, Brandt, use your head and stop!”

  Shooting them a bored look, Zander lifted a brow. “You kids going now? Pity.”

  “It would have been fun to watch you kick their asses, Z.” Bracken moved aside, letting the humans pass. Brandt did so reluctantly, but his friends couldn’t seem to get away quickly enough.

  Tossing Gwen a glare over his shoulder, Brandt said, “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “Not if you want to live, you won’t,” growled Zander. That made all three boys hasten their steps. When they were finally out of sight, he said, “Bracken, follow them to the border; make sure they leave the land.” With a nod, the enforcer did. Zander turned back to Gwen. “You were supposed to be inside the house.”

  She arched a brow. “And you assu
med this because . . . ?”

  “Dammit, Gwen, you said you’d stay home.”

  Her spine snapped straight. “No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t go trekking through the marsh. I didn’t say I would stay inside those four walls—I’d go crazy if I did. I should be perfectly safe in my own damn driveway. Brandt was in the wrong place, not me. And I’m not going to sit behind closed doors because of assholes like him and Rory. You wouldn’t.”

  “We’re not talking about me.”

  “That empathy deficiency is interfering here. Imagine how you would feel if the situation were reversed. Would you stay inside?” He didn’t answer her question, but his expression said it all. She resumed rinsing the car as she asked, “Now, did you find any sign of Rory out there?”

  “He’s been here. He hasn’t come close to the house, but he’s come close enough.”

  “I don’t think he’ll make another try for me. It’s too obvious a move. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who likes to be predictable. That, oddly enough, makes him a little predictable.” She looked at the Beta pair. “He’s more likely to strike out at one of you next time. Probably you,” she told Ally.

  Derren’s eyes narrowed in interest. “Why do you say that? I’m not disagreeing, I’m just curious.”

  “Well, if he targets your mate, wouldn’t your instinct be to hunt him?” At his nod, Gwen continued, “Then I’m guessing that Ally wouldn’t want you doing that alone. That means that she’d either go with you or insist on someone else doing so. By making that move, he’d be dividing your group. And that would make Zander a clearer target.” Gwen looked at Zander. “I know that so far he’s focused on others, but you’re the ultimate target.”

  “We can’t split up, no matter what he or anyone else does,” Ally insisted.

  “We won’t,” stated Derren.

  Noticing that each of the shifters had dirty boots from walking around the marsh, Gwen asked, “Want me to give your boots a quick rinse?” At their nods, she used the hose to quickly wash off the mud before the water could soak through the leather.

 

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