“I just want to make sure she’s okay. Father and Jager said to leave her alone until she feels better, but I’m worried.” Sydney’s eyes remained locked on Raider’s as she spoke in a sad voice that made him want to pat her on the head and tell her not to worry. She didn’t even blink as she stared at him. “Jordan gets to spend the entire day with her, but I’m not allowed to see her for even a minute.”
Before Raider could reassure Sydney that Emerson was well looked after and she’d get a chance to see her soon, Camilla sauntered over, flipping her hair back as she squeezed in between them.
“What are the two of you talking about?”
Sydney lowered her head. “Emmy,” she said softly.
“She probably drank too much of Jager’s brew the night before,” Camilla said.
Sydney’s frown deepened. “Emmy doesn’t drink. Jordan does. Jordan drinks a lot with Hudson and Chase.”
Rolling her eyes, Camilla released a loud breath of annoyance. “Always got your eyes on everyone, don’t you?” When Sydney made no answer, Camilla spoke hastily. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be fine, and it’s not like she wants our help.”
“Excuse me,” Raider said, moving away.
Sydney remained rooted in place while Camilla hurried after Raider, not getting the hint.
“I offered to fill in for Jordan while she looks after Emerson.”
Holding back an irritated groan, Raider stopped to glower at Camilla. She mistook the look as confusion.
“As your patrol partner,” she clarified, batting her lashes and flashing a toothy smile. “I’ve already talked to Wiley. We’ve been assigned the Forest of the Ancestors. It creeps me out in there.” Camilla shivered. “Besides, nothing ever happens in that part of the hollow. Everyone knows the spirits of our ancestors can look out for themselves. But Jager is being a stubborn fool.” Camilla stomped her foot on the ground. The muscles in her face relaxed an instant later as she grinned at Raider while drawing a circle in the dirt with her toe. “Maybe if we talked to him together, he’d see reason. You shouldn’t be left alone to patrol the grassy knoll, not after a vulhena snuck in on Olivia and Tabor barely a month ago.”
Raider’s jaw ached with the pressure of his clamped teeth. “We all need to stick to our designated assignments and partners,” he said.
Camilla sighed dramatically. “You are so responsible—one of many qualities I admire about you.” She swept a hand through her hair and grinned. “Want me to grab you dinner?”
“I can get it myself,” Raider grumbled. He had half a mind to catch it himself to escape Camilla’s relentless pursuit.
Sasha and Tabor were lucky they could get out of communal dinners with such ease. If Raider wished to be left alone, claiming a mate might actually be the answer to averting unwanted attention.
He stormed over to the line that had formed at the community cauldron, cringing when Camilla skipped over beside him.
“Even better—we can dish up together,” she said, placing her hand on her chest with a wide grin. Her sundress hugged her breasts snugly. She stuck them beneath his nose and leaned forward in invitation. “The next time Jager decides it’s safe to send a group into the city, they need to bring back dresses. Mine’s become threadbare. The fabric’s fading away. Might as well be naked,” she said, leaning in close enough for their arms to touch.
He tensed and ground his teeth together, concentrating his attention on the female shifters behind him instead of Camilla and her admittedly alluring breasts.
Behind them, Taryn spoke in a smug voice to her friend Janelle. “Shame I didn’t get Chase as my partner, but at least Gina got my brother. Those two would look really good together, and how perfect would it be if we ended up as pack sisters?”
“What about me?” Janelle asked.
“I’d take either one of you as a sister, but Gina’s the one partnering with Hudson. Don’t you think they’d make a cute couple?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Don’t you think she would have confided in us if she had any interest in Hudson?”
“Well, let’s just hope she turns my brother’s head away from that lying, conniving bitch, Jordan.”
Raider cocked his head to the side while Camilla nattered on, oblivious that her sister was being discussed right behind her back.
“Plus it’s way too tight, especially at the top,” Camilla said, stroking her chest.
Raider barely caught Camilla’s latest complaint. The conversation behind them made his brain swell and his ears burn. Although they hadn’t shared duties yet, Jordan was his partner, and he always felt a sense of loyalty to that person during their patrol cycle. The elders had always said a shifter should have their partner’s back the same way a mated pair watched out for one another.
“She’s just a convenient piece of tail to take his mind off his losses,” Janelle said. “What happened to Rebecca is tragic, but at least he has peace of mind knowing she’s been freed from madness. Cheer up, girl. Chase will come around. The grieving process has to end sometime.”
“I wish I could believe that.” Taryn sighed.
Raider coughed, but the females didn’t get the hint.
Hearing them talk with such open disdain made him remember the accusations Jordan had made about Taryn pushing her into the river and having her friend serve her bad meat. Maybe it wasn’t all paranoia.
“Hang in there,” Janelle said. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Jordan isn’t the type of she-wolf a shifter claims for a mate. She’s only good for a hump.”
“Ah-hem.” Raider cleared his throat roughly and glared over his shoulder.
Two sets of eyes flicked up to give him cold stares beneath arched eyebrows.
Camilla noticed their glares and planted her hands on her hips. “Not getting any action with those sticks up your cunts, are you?”
Raider choked on a laugh, completely taken aback by Camilla’s words. She heard more than he’d given her credit for and he had to admit her retort gave him a sense of brutish satisfaction made sweeter still when Taryn’s and Janelle’s faces turned mottled red.
With hateful glares at Camilla, Taryn and Janelle stepped out of line and stormed off toward the river.
“That’s right, go cool off. Rinse out those filthy mouths,” Camilla hollered after them.
This time, Raider did laugh. His chest shook with it. People turned around and looked over, their confused expressions making Raider laugh harder. Camilla had no shame, and for once he didn’t mind one bit.
When she noticed him laughing, her expression softened, and her lips curved into one of the most genuine smiles he’d ever seen on her mouth.
Her lips parted to speak, but before Camilla could say anything, her friends Rosalie and Olivia bounded over, shoving one another playfully like a couple of rowdy males.
“What’s all the commotion about?” Rosalie asked. “Those bitches getting in your face, Cam?”
Camilla tossed her head back. “I sent them fleeing.”
“Tails tucked between their legs from the looks of it,” Olivia said proudly.
“Only thing they’ve had between their legs in a long time,” Camilla fired back.
The girls broke out into a fit of giggles. Raider took advantage of their laughter to abandon the line and trail after Taryn and Janelle. If there was any truth to Jordan’s suspicions, she might still be in danger. Stealth in human form had never been his specialty, so Raider undressed and shifted once he reached the forest then slunk toward the river where he shifted again behind a cluster of mossy fallen-tree trunks. He remained crouched, listening intently in case the two females did more than trash Jordan.
Like plot her death.
chapter eight
Sunlight splintered through the cracks in the slatted wood frame of the cabin’s walls. Eyelids fluttering half open, Jordan smacked her lip
s gently. It took her a moment to realize she’d shifted sometime during the night and curled into a furry ball on the floorboards right below the bed.
Head lifted, she peered over the frame, ears pointed, listening closely.
Soft, steady breathing calmed her nerves. Emerson was asleep. She’d slept the entire night.
Jordan got to her feet and glanced around the cabin before remembering how she’d stripped outside after hearing a rustle in the bushes. She’d tossed her clothes carelessly on the ground to shift and investigate the noise, only to discover a pair of raccoons who hissed rudely before lumbering off into the forest. Good riddance. Jordan worried the mangy mongrels had awakened Emmy with their peevish hullabaloo.
But Emerson slept undisturbed, so Jordan had curled up on the floor beside her.
Nails clicking against the wood lightly, Jordan slunk toward the open doorway, hair rising on her back as she picked up Raider’s scent. She halted in her tracks as the bulk of his body filled the doorframe. Even though he was a pack member, his human form blocked her way out. She hated feeling trapped. Her wolf especially didn’t like it. She growled in warning.
Raider didn’t show the slightest unease. If he thought she wouldn’t bite him, he had another thing coming.
The thought excited her. Maybe a little too much.
Rather than back off, Raider stepped inside. His muscular arms stretched forward to show he held clothing in his arms. Jordan didn’t have to see them to recognize her own familiar scent.
“I found these outside,” Raider said in a calming voice. “I’ll set them over here.” He walked over to the small table and set the clothes on top then walked back out, shutting the door behind him.
As soon as the door settled into place, Jordan shifted and snatched her jeans off the table. She dressed in a flash, rushing over to the door to yank it open. Closed spaces didn’t take long to unhinge her, though she appreciated Raider respecting her privacy. It wasn’t usually necessary, but for some insane reason, being naked around him unsettled her even more than closed spaces.
“Morning,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eye when she saw him standing just outside the door waiting patiently.
“How is she?” Raider asked.
Good thing he wasn’t one for small talk. He got right to the point, either asking questions or barking orders as though he were an elder.
At least that had been the case until yesterday, when he’d goaded her for being shy at his nakedness. It grated at her that he had that effect on her. She had no interest in him, and yet her mind went haywire whenever she found herself in close proximity to his perfectly sculpted pecs and muscles that rippled up and down his towering form, as breathtaking as a mountain rising above the hills. She couldn’t help noticing the scars on his chest and arms, permanent gashes and bites from vulhena attacks. Even with his shirt on, they left their traces over his hulking arms, souvenirs from his battles. Such markings were seductive, especially to female shifters. They proved a wolf’s ability to protect the pack.
Chase and Hudson had a few scratches, but no deep scars. Nothing that riled her up.
Unfortunately, Jordan was no different from every other female when it came to drooling over a big, strong male, which pissed her off spectacularly. She hid it as best she could. Anger had proven to be a convincing camouflage in the past.
Yesterday, she felt like Raider had seen right past her shields. Even a brainless brute couldn’t miss the appreciation in her eyes when she’d seen the size of his dick.
With a body like that, no wonder he looked smug all the time. It’s a wonder he kept it tucked away in his pants. Everyone knew Raider didn’t sleep around. There had even been speculation that he preferred his own sex over females, but the male shifters shook their heads and claimed that wasn’t the case either. Jordan always assumed he was too in love with himself to share his attention with another shifter.
The upside of his vanity was that he didn’t flirt, and he didn’t badger anyone.
Not until yesterday evening, when he’d ribbed Jordan about the monster erection between his legs.
At least she hoped he’d been erect. If his cock got any bigger, he might take down a tree with the thing.
Heat filled Jordan’s cheeks. It took her a moment to remember Raider’s question. His ability to take her mind off everything else, including her sister, puzzled her to no end.
“She was sleeping soundly a moment ago.”
She spun around to find Emmy sitting up in bed, smiling weakly. She looked younger and more vulnerable in her fragile state. Jordan couldn’t wait to see her back to normal, full of pep and laughter, even if that meant trading barbs. They definitely had their differences, but Emerson was more than a sister; she was one of Jordan’s dearest friends.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Raider asked Emerson gently.
“Better,” Emerson said with a forced smile.
Raider’s frown mirrored Jordan’s own. Although Emerson had slept, her skin was pale and her eyes listless. She looked drained.
“Have you been able to keep anything down?” Raider asked next.
“No.”
He took a tentative step closer. “Once you keep something in your stomach, you’ll have a chance to regain your strength.”
“That will be good,” Emerson said, eyes out of focus as she stared not at Raider, but almost through him.
“Hello? Is it okay to come inside?” a gentle female voice called from outside.
Raider’s eyes expanded in alarm. He quickly stepped aside and backed himself up toward the wall of the cabin as Kallie peered in from the doorframe clutching a bowl with a plate covering the top.
“Come in, Kallie,” Jordan said, shooting Raider a furtive look.
Kallie’s cheeks suddenly filled with color when she noticed Raider hovering beside the wall. She swallowed before speaking. “Hi, Raider.” Her voice was as soft as moss on a spongy patch of earth and thick with emotion.
A pained expression crossed Raider’s face as he hunched in the corner. He cleared his throat, then he said, “Hello, Kallie,” in a gruff voice that was in stark contrast to her warm tone. In an instant, he moved to the door, straightening his body to avoid brushing against Kallie as he hurried for the exit with heavy footsteps. “See you later,” he said in a rush of words that flew out the door with him.
“You brought food?” Jordan prodded Kallie, who stood staring dolefully out the door.
“Oh, right. Uh, yeah,” Kallie stammered, coming back to her senses.
She limped over to the table, where she removed the plate and set it down. Steam rose from the bowl and filled the cabin with the scent of garlic. Jordan’s stomach growled. The only thing she’d had for dinner was the broth Francine brought for Emerson’s dinner. Emmy hadn’t wanted anything and insisted Jordan have it. Eventually she’d relented, but only so she wouldn’t have to leave her sister’s side to scrounge up food.
Kallie walked to the bed slowly, her steps so careful it was hard to detect her limp. “I thought you might prefer something other than morning grains, since that’s what you ate before getting sick, so I prepared steamed collard greens and garlic,” Kallie offered.
“That’s very kind of you, Kallie,” Emerson said, reaching for the bowl. Emerson held the bowl beneath her nose and closed her eyes. To an unobservant bystander it might look like she’d lifted the bowl to take a whiff, but Jordan could see the goose bumps on Emerson’s arms and that it was the heat from the steam that Emmy was enjoying against her skin.
Her sister’s eyes reopened and met hers. “Smells good,” she said. “You should get some breakfast in the glade before it’s gone.”
Kallie’s head jerked up. “Sorry, Jordan. I could only carry one bowl.”
“Don’t apologize. I don’t expect you to serve me food.”
“Why don’t th
e two of you go together?” Emerson suggested. “I don’t want anyone starving on my behalf.”
Jordan placed a hand on her hip. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“I can stay until you get back,” Kallie offered eagerly. “I’ve already eaten.”
“See? I won’t be alone,” Emerson said with more animation in her voice than before.
Chewing on her lip, Jordan took several seconds to choose between her stubborn vigilance and the hunger pains gnawing at her stomach.
“Go. I insist.”
The impatience in her sister’s voice convinced her to grab a quick bite.
“I’ll be right back,” Jordan said, hurrying for the door. “I can bring my porridge back.”
“Don’t you dare,” Emmy said. “I don’t want to see or smell that stuff ever again.”
Jordan sniffed, feeling lighthearted for the first time since her sister had fallen ill. Emmy was sounding more and more like herself. Whatever spell Tabor had performed must have worked. That, or a good night’s rest. Emerson was a survivor. Nothing could keep her down for long.
“Fine. I’ll eat first.”
“Not like it will take you long, anyway,” Emerson teased.
Chuckling, Jordan left the cabin and set off at a jog for the glade, saliva gathering in her mouth at the thought of a solid meal.
By the time Jordan arrived, a long line had formed at the cauldron. Luckily, Hudson and Chase, along with their young disciple, were only three spots away from dishing up. Jordan bounded over to them, glaring at Justin when he grumbled at her for cutting the line in front of him and his buddies Zackary and Wiley. Justin muttered something to his friends, whose snickering was cut short when Chase glanced over his shoulder to flash them a menacing smile full of promise.
“So, Jord, how’s my candidate holding up?” Hudson asked. “Will Emerson be back on her legs soon?”
Words failed her. She snarled.
Hudson sighed audibly. “Don’t get pissed at me. I didn’t invent the game.”
“Yeah? Well, excuse me for feeling pissy when my sister’s still recovering.”
Mating Games Page 9
