“Kirk’s always been hateful. He has issues. Mommy issues.”
“Care to elaborate?”
It was Marcus who explained. “His mom was human. She wasn’t Brock’s true mate. Apparently Brock found his true mate but she was already shacked up with another guy. He got involved with this human female – not telling her he was a shifter. When she realized what Brock was and that their son was half-shifter, she freaked and deserted them both. Kirk had only been a toddler at the time.”
Taryn couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy for both Kirk and Brock. “There’s always the senile old crone,” she said with a smile.
“Greta might call you every name under the blue moon, baby, but I know for sure she likes you in her own way,” Trey assured her.
She snorted. “If you say so. Maybe it’s not about someone liking or disliking me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if we’re assuming that the informant has been in contact with Darryl from the beginning, we have to assume that they told him our mating was all about a deal so that you had plenty of alliances. Darryl wouldn’t have liked that, so he would have wanted me out of the equation. A good way to do that would be by trying make me feel unwelcome, damaging my car, killing my raven.”
Marcus nodded a few times. “If you think about it, it wasn’t until you both discovered that you were true mates that anyone tried to actually hurt you.”
“It would make sense for him to want you hurt, as is evident from last night,” said Ryan. “A shifter whose mate is hurting isn’t in the best frame of mind, and it would make you, Trey, more easily provoked into breaking the agreement of a twelve week gap between anyone making good on the challenge from Darryl.”
Trey wanted to punch something. The betrayal cut deeper than he would have thought possible. Apparently he wasn’t as guarded as he’d always thought himself to be, or maybe his mating with Taryn had changed that. “Why would someone help Darryl? What could they possibly gain from it? If they weren’t happy here and wanted to join his pack, they could have left. I wouldn’t have stopped them. What they’ve done is punishable by death.”
“Then the question is,” began Trick, “who would be prepared to take that risk?”
After a long silence, Trey sighed and got to his feet. “I need to go for a run. My wolf’s restless and pissed, and I can’t think straight when he’s fighting for supremacy so hard.”
Tao shrugged. “Then let’s all go for a run together.”
Trey held out his hand to Taryn. “Come on, baby.”
Many days a week she and Trey would go play in the forest while he was in Cujo form and then lay near the lake while she read the newspaper, all the while running her fingers through his coarse fur. Occasionally some of the pack would join in on their play in their wolf forms and then collapse beside her and Cujo, enjoying the close contact with their Alpha pair.
Taryn wouldn’t have thought such a thing could be peaceful. She was drained, dirty, and currently had seven wolves all pressed against her. But always there was that sense of peace, belonging, and family. She could only assume that the wolves felt it too as they always seemed content to just laze there, all sprawled out with their eyes closed and their breathing even. So when each and every one of them suddenly jerked upright and went on the alert, Taryn knew something had to be wrong.
She thought of the male wolves who had attacked her the day before, wondering if they would be dumb enough to try to creep around their territory to finish the job they had barely begun. There was no question that they would be dumb enough, but the wolves didn’t dart off in various directions to hunt down any intruders as she would have thought. They remained there, crowding her, protecting her.
A howl in the distance received an immediate response from the wolves around her – it was a familiar howl. Kirk, she thought. The wolves all seemed to relax slightly, as if the possibility of ‘danger’ no longer worried them, but they didn’t seem happy, and Cujo was emitting a low growl.
Before Taryn could think on it any further, there was the sound of a car approaching. She went to stand, attempting to see who the car belonged to, but Cujo growled and licked her jaw and she got the distinct impression that he wanted her to remain where she was. Soon there were footsteps and the sound of Greta speaking ever so sweetly. Voices responded just as pleasantly – familiar voices that made everything make perfect sense.
A minute later, three male wolf shifters appeared with Greta. Instantly Cujo was on his feet, his attention solely on the male in front, but he didn’t move from Taryn’s side.
Taryn groaned and shot Greta, who was smirking mischievously, an accusatory look. “You knew he was in his wolf form. It didn’t bother you that he might have attacked my uncle?” Taryn had forgotten all about their visit.
Greta huffed. “After the things he said to my grandson, no. I hope Trey rips out his throat.” She snarled at Don, Nick, and another male wolf – all of whom were staring at the old woman in amazement as she made the transformation from gracious, welcoming host to an agent of the Axis of Evil. Oh she knew how to play the frail, saintly old woman.
Taryn sat up and wrapped her arms around the neck of a growling Cujo who clearly remembered Don and was in an overly crazy protective state after her being attacked. Her own wolf wasn’t too happy to see him either. “Trey,” she whispered into the wolf’s ear, knowing Trey would be aware of what was happening and would hear her. “I need you to come back to me now.” Unfortunately, Cujo wasn’t in any rush to retreat and let his human half have control. Had she recalled arranging her uncle’s visit, she would have postponed it for another time. Too late now.
Looking up at Don, she said, “If you could all just take a seat over there at the patio table we’ll be over in a sec.” Turning to the six wolves around her, she ordered, “Change.” Not looking all that happy about it, they shifted back to their human forms and – not moving their gazes from their visitors – each retrieved their own pair of jeans and t-shirt from the ones that were scattered around. Dante then brought over Trey’s clothes and handed them to her. Focusing back on Cujo, she whispered, “Come on, Trey. Come back.”
Seconds later the change began and Trey was sat in front of her, his gaze still drilling into her uncle. She handed him his clothes and, without a word, he stood and pulled them on. Obviously sensing the precariousness of the situation, each of the visitors had their heads lowered slightly, communicating that they had no intention of challenging him, that they were no threat.