by T. S. Ryder
Roland's head jerked up. "Really?"
"Really. But I don't like the idea of us getting together because our genes say so."
"Then we don't," Roland said slowly. He didn't miss the look of devastation in Claire's eyes and smiled gently at her. "We give it a trial run, and if we actually like each other, then we get together because we want to. Not because of pregnancy or genes."
There was no doubt in his mind that they would get along perfectly. He just needed time to convince Claire of that. Her brow furrowed and she looked at him for a long moment, the detective light in her eyes. She was probably going over various scenarios and examining the evidence of what they were.
Eventually, she nodded. "That sounds acceptable. We'll get to know each other first."
Roland couldn't help beaming. "Good. We'll go to dinner tonight, then… unless it's inappropriate to go to dinner while the investigation is going?"
Claire laughed and patted her stomach. "That ship has long set sail. Dinner it is."
Chapter Eight
Claire ran her fingers through her curls, making sure they were all in place, before she slipped naked into Roland's bed. The past few weeks had been hard, mostly because they hadn't been able to see each other in person. Phone calls, Skype and texts only went so far. But they had to be sneaky if they were going to keep her continued pregnancy a secret.
Tonight was the night before the full moon, though, and both were afraid that the little fluttering movements Claire was just beginning to feel were going to end the very next night. They needed to be together, and Claire hadn't found any evidence that implicated any of the pack, so they agreed it was safe to be.
"Do you want some water to something?" Roland called from the kitchen.
"Water's good," Claire replied, unsnapping her bra. Her breasts were slightly swollen and very sensitive. She couldn't wait for Roland's big, strong hands to be on them. She almost moaned at the thought alone.
She could hear Roland bustling around in the kitchen and smiled. The more she learned about him, the fonder she grew of him. He spoke ten different languages, headed three charitable organizations, and he did all his cooking himself. He was worth billions, yet he scrambled his own eggs. He said it helped him to stay grounded.
He had opened up to her more quickly than she had expected. Not only that, but she found herself opening up to him as well.
She told him about what a hell high school was. He told her about his parents. She admitted that she had once had a tattoo on her lower back that an old boyfriend had convinced her to get, but that she always hated it and had it removed the moment he dumped her for a thinner, younger model. She even told him about the first time she had shot and killed somebody. The man had a gun pointed at the head of a five-year-old, but it still haunted her.
Roland was easier to talk to than anybody she had ever known. Every time they were together, she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life. Which was why, tonight of all nights, on the verge of everything changing, she just wanted to be with him and not worry about anything. Who knew what changes the full moon would bring to their lives?
When he entered the bedroom, his eyes trailed down her blanketed body. "I was hoping you'd be on top of the covers."
Claire felt the heat rising up her neck into her cheeks. "I'm feeling fat today."
"You're pregnant, not fat."
Both of them knew that being pregnant caused only a small part of her round stomach. In fact, given her build, nobody would even suspect that she was pregnant yet. She just looked like she had just been snacking on cupcakes a little too much lately. She sighed as Roland set two bottles of water down on the nightstand and sat on the bed.
"You're beautiful," he said. "From the moment I saw you, I said—"
"I heard what Adam said. My legs were like sausages."
Roland frowned. "Adam can kick himself in the head. You're beautiful, and for what it's worth, I love your legs. They're just perfect for gripping as you wrap them around my waist."
More heat, though this time it was centered lower, rather than on her face. Roland, apparently tired of talking, rolled over her, pinning her under the blankets, and pressed his mouth to hers. She hummed as their skin heated together. Roland wasted no time, tugging the blanket away and feasting at her breasts. His mouth on her skin made her heat and tighten. Claire threw back her head, moaning, tangling her hands in his hair.
"You're beautiful, do you understand?" Roland growled into her skin.
Claire ran her hands down his tight muscles, reveling in the thrill of sparks their bodies produced. She kicked one leg free and slung it over his hips as he moved back to her mouth.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes," she gasped, willing to say or do anything to make sure he never stopped. "Don't stop. Don't let me go."
"Never."
He drew back slightly, letting her reach down and find him with her hand. His eyes slid shut as he bucked his hips forward. His mouth captured hers. Tongues tangled. Claire could almost read his thoughts. More than anything, she knew this was right. This was more than right, this was perfection made manifest and she could never deny that… She wasn't ready to say she loved Roland, but she knew she could never live without him again.
When he entered her it was like heaven. Claire threw her head back, crying out as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through her. She knew from experience that it would only get better from here. She was already panting, already bucking her hips up, impatient for his strength to fill her.
"I'm never letting you go," Roland moaned in her ear. "Never."
"Never," she agreed, kissing him again as he brought their souls closer together.
***
In the morning that feeling of perfection stayed, even after Roland woke her up far too early with a kiss, telling her that he had to go to a meeting with a Chinese company. After he left, Claire let herself drift in and out of bliss-filled dreams. She was certain they were meant to be together. And whether it was genetics or not, she did like him. They got along, and they were highly compatible when it came to sex. They could be together forever.
Hell, I might be afraid to admit it, but the only reason I haven't told him I love him is because I don't want to seem like a psycho clingy girlfriend.
When Claire did get up, she wrapped herself in one of the tangled sheets and stumbled out to the kitchen, yawning. She yelped when she saw that she wasn't alone in the guesthouse. Brian was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. The werewolf smiled at her.
"I was wondering when you would wake up."
"Brian." Claire pulled her sheet up a little higher to hide her cleavage. "What are you doing here?"
Brian shrugged. "You know I was turned into a werewolf just a few years ago? Yeah. I was in the big leagues before. My own boss, working my own hours… usually in other people's houses."
"What?"
"Didn't you see my criminal record during your investigation?"
Claire shook her head cautiously. If he had a record, she should have known about it. What was he doing in here anyway? "What did you do?"
"They only booked me on breaking and entering and robbery. I was too smart about my other stuff."
What other stuff? A shiver ran down Claire's spine.
"I'm surprised you didn't find anything… But then, I guess Roland did promise that he would take care of all that when I was turned. Benefits of being a billionaire, eh?" He laughed bitterly. "I grew up in a one-bedroom apartment with a mother who worked three jobs and still couldn't pay the bills. How is it fair that we had so little and he has all this?"
He gestured around and smiled. Claire's heart beat faster. She knew that look. There was a remorseless gleam in his eyes. Where was her gun? On the nightstand in the bedroom. Best to try to talk him down.
"It's not fair," she agreed cautiously. "The disparity of wealth in this country is disgusting. I'm sure if you asked Roland, he would let you set up some sort of fund for children living in
poverty."
"Roland thinks he needs all his billions. He’s searching for a cure for being a werewolf. He was born that way and he hates it. He thinks it's a curse and expects the rest of us to feel the same. But I am so much stronger than I was before. I love being a werewolf. And if it was so bad, then he should have sterilized himself so he could never pass our 'defective' genes on to your baby."
Claire's eyes widened.
"Did you really think that I would believe you got rid of it? And all his secret little missions that he's been driving himself to? I'm not an idiot. You two are so obvious it's laughable."
Claire didn't wait to hear any more. She dashed back to the bedroom, grabbing for her gun. Brian was too quick; he was on her in seconds. He spun her around, slamming her against the wall, pinning her in place.
"Adam was right." He smiled a bone-chilling smile. "You look like an overstuffed sausage. But the pup inside you is what I’ll need to solidify my leadership over the pack once Roland is dead."
Her heart stopped. "What have you done?"
"What's necessary."
"And you killed Melissa?"
"Yes. It's a shame, I liked her. But she found out what I was doing." He shrugged. "And then you came along and got yourself pregnant. I thought… why not? Now if he dies and I am raising the new Alpha, they'll follow me."
"They won't!"
"I might have to kill Adam," Brian admitted. "But the others will be my sheep."
Anger flared and Claire spat in his face, clawing at his eyes. She was never going to let this beast touch her! "I am Roland's mate," she hissed. "You will never be Alpha!"
Brian snatched the gun off the nightstand and pressed it against Claire's throat, making her freeze. "Once Roland is dead, the others won't have a choice but to accept me as Alpha. And neither will you."
Chapter Nine
Roland frowned at his phone as he stepped into the lobby of his office building. After many hours of discussing business deals with his business contacts in China, he had gone out for a late breakfast. He was only just returning when his private phone rang. Few people had access to his personal number, and yet here was a call from a number he didn't recognize. He answered the call.
"Is this Roland Davis?"
He recognized the voice. It was that little detective who was always flirting with Adam. Grace something. Claire's friend and coworker. "Yes. How did you get this number?"
"I'm a detective. I detect. And Claire left her phone open one time after she called you and I have a photographic memory."
Roland headed for the elevators, rolling his eyes. He’d thought this girl was as ditzy as they came. "What are you calling me about?"
"Have you seen Claire today?"
Roland stopped. They had agreed to be inconspicuous. So why was Grace asking him if he'd seen her? "Why would I?"
"Because she's half an hour late for work and she's not answering her cell. I hoped that she was lying about her relationship with you and that you two were—"
"Spare me the detail." Roland's heart rate increased. Claire was never late for anything. She was almost neurotic about being on time or early to wherever she was going. And she would never not answer her phone. His wolf, already close to the surface because of the moon, growled deeply. "She stayed at my place last night but she should be at work now."
"She stayed at your place?" Grace sounded delighted.
This time, Roland did growl. "Do me a favor and send somebody over to check? Hopefully she just slept in."
But even as he said the words, he knew that wasn't the case. Something had happened. Something horrible. He spun on his heel, scanning the lobby for Adam. He was on the back wall, casually flirting with the woman who brought the mail.
Claire suspected one of his pack had killed Melissa. What if… It was too horrible to think about. His own pack wouldn't betray him. He refused to believe it.
"We're going back to the mansion," Roland called to Adam, already striding out of the door. It would only take twenty minutes to get back to his mansion.
He just prayed he wouldn't be too late.
"What's up?" Adam asked, as soon as they were outside.
"Claire didn't get to work." He paused a moment, hating what he was about to say. "She thinks that a member of the pack killed Melissa."
Adam cursed under his breath as they got into Roland's car. "It can't be."
"Can't it? Somebody was deliberately poisoning Melissa to make sure she couldn't carry any of the babies to term. Who besides a member of the pack—"
"It can't be one of the pack. We'd know."
They had only driven a block when there was a thunderous sound behind him. Adam slammed on the brakes as the world took on a red hue. Roland smelled the smoke before he turned. Red flames licked the sides of his office building near the top–right where his office was. Where he was meant to be at that moment. Where he would have been if Grace hadn't called him.
Cold dread doused Roland head to toe. He turned to Adam, whose eyes were just as wide as his.
"If it's a member of the pack—" Adam started.
"Get to the mansion. Now!"
Adam stomped on the gas, making Roland jerk to one side. His heart hammered. What if they were too late?
It had to be Brian. He had done late night work in Roland's office the night before and it was his day off work. Roland felt like he had been stabbed. The hurt of betrayal rose in him, making his wolf throw back its head and howl in sadness. He thought he had been making progress with Brian. He thought… but the other werewolf must blame him too much for letting him be turned in the first place. Was this all about revenge?
"She's going to be fine," Adam said, trying to make his voice upbeat, although Roland could hear the stress in it. "Only an idiot would kill a cop."
Roland closed his eyes, forcibly rejecting all the confused thoughts in his mind, letting his wolf closer to the surface. He would do anything it took to protect his mate, to make sure she wasn't harmed. His wolf growled and the sound reverberated in his chest. He felt his canines grow, and claws sprouted from his nails.
They reached the mansion quickly. Roland threw himself out of the car before Adam had even come to a stop. He rolled over the ground several times before he jumped to his feet and ran to the guesthouse. Claire's rich, chocolate scent was heavy in the air but she was nowhere to be seen. Brian's scent was thick as well.
The wolf growled again and Roland dropped, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents. Outside, two paths went off in opposite directions, Claire and Brian's scents mixed together in both.
"You take that one," he ordered Adam.
His Beta nodded and scampered off in a half-crouch. Roland continued following his own trail. His business suit felt constricting, so he tore off his jacket and tossed it aside. The trail led him to a garden shed at the very back of the property. The scents grew stronger. Roland kicked the door in, adrenaline pumping through him.
The first thing he saw was Claire. She was in a half-sitting position at the back of the shed, her hands tied together behind her, a gag in her mouth. She was wrapped in a sheet and nothing else. A snarl broke free as he registered Brian hunched over her.
Brian looked up. His eyes widened and he sprang to his feet. "Roland—"
Roland didn't wait for another word. He threw himself across the room, hands outstretched and grasping for the werewolf.
Claws tore through Brian's clothes and Roland smelled blood. A hazy mist settled over his vision as he sent first one punch and then another into the other werewolf's face. He no longer saw Brian, a member of his pack. He saw an enemy who had threatened his mate, and he would show no mercy.
A fist flew at Roland's head and he ducked, but he didn't see the punches to his abdomen and chest coming. He grunted at the impact, stumbling backwards. Brian snatched a two-by-four off the ground and swung it at the Alpha. He blocked the blow, jabbing at Brian's eyes with his fingers. Brian jerked back just in time to spare his eyes. With a
growl, Roland kneed him in the stomach. Brian grabbed the Alpha's neck and slammed him against the wall. His canines flashed and sank into Roland's shoulder.
The Alpha roared in pain, wrapping a hand around Brian's throat. He squeezed, cutting off the other werewolf's breath. Brian sank his fist into Roland's stomach again and again, until Roland stumbled back, gasping and wheezing. Brian sagged against the wall, panting, then pushed himself to his feet again. He turned his head. Roland followed his gaze. A gun lay beside Claire. She writhed against her bonds, eyes wide as she tried to grasp it.
Both werewolves staggered in a circle, panting, glaring at each other.
"We both know how this ends," Brian gasped out. "So let's get it over with."
He dove for the gun. Claire rolled, covering the weapon with her body. Roland lunged, seizing Brian by his shirt. They tumbled over the ground until Roland sprang to his feet. He dragged Brian up and threw him against the wall. His canines sank into Brian's throat. The copper taste of blood exploded in his mouth. He felt the flesh give as he tore. Brian's eyes widened. His hands clutched the front of Roland's shirt.
The Alpha stared at the bubbling blood and smelled that the wound was fatal. Fear rolled in waves off Brian, and just like that, he was a pack member again. Roland gently lowered him to the floor, supporting his head and neck as the blood continued to flow. He tried to staunch the river but there was too much damage.
"I would have protected you until death," Roland whispered. "All of you. You were one of my pack, one of my family. I'm sorry that you were cursed with being a werewolf, but—"
Blood bubbled on Brian's lips as he laughed. The sound was wet and gurgling. His gaze sharpened for a moment. "You'll never understand."
The smell of blood was heavy in the air as Brian's eyes lost their focus. Roland heard his heartbeat, rapid at first, then slower, then nothing at all.
