Marked (Shadowed Heirs #6)

Chapter 1 The Brush-Off

CHAPTER ONE

the brush-off

IVER

Inever believed in love at first sight until it happened to me.

Well, maybe love is too strong a word, but it was instant attraction, for sure. Attraction more intense than I’ve ever felt; so strong that it punched the air from my lungs and made the world around me grind to a halt for a single, heart-stopping moment.

I’ve experienced the feeling exactly three times. The first was from across a parking lot last week. The second was from across the practice field at the squad complex during training today. And the third is right now, from across the bar my friends and I frequent in Goldenleaf’s territory.

All three times, it’s been the same girl. Cheyenne Clark is new around here, and now she’s here, headed right for the table in the back corner that my friends and I are currently occupying.

I sit up a little straighter on my barstool, gaze transfixed on the stunning she-wolf as she draws closer.

Dark denim hugs her long legs, a loose maroon t-shirt concealing her slender frame beneath.

There’s white lettering across the front of it, the soft waves of her long golden-blonde hair obscuring the logo so I can’t make out what it says.

Not that it matters, since I only give her attire a passing glance before those amber eyes of hers pull me in, meeting mine for the briefest moment before flickering away.

She didn’t come here alone. The reason she’s headed toward our table right now is the man walking beside her– my sister’s new mate, Javier Cruz.

From what I’ve gleaned in the short time Cheyenne has been on my radar, the two of them are close.

I wasn’t aware he was bringing her along tonight, but I’m pleasantly surprised because it means I’m about to get the opportunity to actually talk to her rather than just staring from afar.

“Hey, guys,” Javi greets as the two of them approach our table, tossing an arm over her shoulders casually.

“This is my best friend, Cheyenne. Chey, these are the guys.” He gestures to me and my buddies, making introductions from left to right.

“Archer and Ares are from the Stillwater pack, they’re Alpha Reid’s sons,” he provides.

Her amber-eyed gaze bounces between the Raines brothers and she dips her head with a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Ares perks up at the attention, grinning back at her. “Likewise,” he drawls, giving her a slow, predatory once-over.

My jaw tightens, hands clenching into fists atop the table. Not that Ares is any competition, but I saw her first. Dibs.

“And that’s Madd, the Goldenleaf pack’s Alpha,” Javi continues, pointing him out.

Madd grunts his acknowledgment as he wraps a tattooed hand around his beer bottle, tipping it in her direction as he lifts it to his lips.

“And Tristan, Alpha of the Riverton pack,” Javi provides, moving right along.

“Hey,” Tris greets warmly, flashing her a smile.

Cheyenne lifts a hand and waves as Javi finally turns to me.

“And this is…”

“Iver,” I interject with a suave lift of my chin. “Lo’s brother.”

Her gaze slides over to lock with mine. “Which makes you Alpha of the Westfield pack,” she surmises.

“That’s right,” I reply proudly.

She gives me a curt nod, then her eyes leave mine to glance around the table once more. “Pleasure meeting you all,” she murmurs, shifting her weight uncomfortably as she turns to Javi and arches a brow. “Drinks?”

“There’s a server that comes around,” he replies, beckoning her with a wave as he rounds the table to claim a stool near mine.

It must be my lucky day, because as Javi sits down, he motions to the empty seat between us for Cheyenne to take. My pulse picks up speed as she makes her way over, sliding onto the stool and resting her tan forearms against the lacquered tabletop.

“So, are the girls on their way?” she asks casually.

“I’d assume so,” Ares replies, beating me to the punch.

I’d be annoyed if I wasn’t so distracted by Cheyenne’s proximity right now.

From up close, those amber eyes are even more striking, and there’s the faintest dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose that lend to the demure, girl-next-door vibe she puts off.

She also smells fucking delicious, to the point where I’m practically hyperventilating as I try to drag more and more of that decadent scent into my lungs.

“Whatcha drinkin’?” Kelly asks cheerfully, startling me out of my hot-girl-haze as she approaches the table and slings cardboard coasters down in front of the newcomers.

Cheyenne turns to address the waitress, putting her back to me. “Vodka cranberry. Make it a double.”

I resist the urge to lean in and sniff her hair like a creep.

“A girl after my own heart,” Kelly remarks, winking at Cheyenne before looking to Javi and lifting her brows in question.

“Just a beer for me,” he drawls.

She nods, departing our table as quickly as she arrived while I turn to address my dream girl before Ares can beat me to the punch again.

“So, Cheyenne…”

“Chey,” she corrects, snapping her head in my direction.

My pulse skips when our eyes lock. “Chey,” I repeat. Apt, since she seems like the shy type. “I saw you out on the field today. You certainly know how to throw a punch.”

She shrugs a shoulder, giving me a brittle smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. Not the reaction I was hoping for.

“Where’d you learn to spar like that?” I press.

“Javi taught me,” she replies curtly, averting her gaze toward the bar across the room, where her drink is currently being mixed.

I try not to take it personally that she’s more interested in watching the bartender pour her drink than chatting with me. Maybe she’s the type that needs a little bit of liquid courage before warming up to new people. It definitely can’t be me; I’m charming as fuck.

Deciding not to push it, I shift my attention to Javi instead. “Sounds like you’ll be right at home helping out with squad training,” I remark.

His lips slide into an easy grin– where Cheyenne is standoffish, Javi is gregarious as always. “I’m looking forward to it,” he replies with a smile. “I’ve never been part of a formal training program before, so I’m sure I’ll be picking up some new things from you guys, too.”

“I wanna see you spar with Madd,” Ares snickers, bumping his shoulder against our surly friend’s. Madd just rolls his eyes, taking another swig of his beer.

Kelly returns to deliver the drinks, and while Chey quietly sips hers, our conversation swiftly turns to me and the guys giving Javi a little shit about his new mate bond with my sister.

It’s a rite of passage, really. As Lo’s brother, it’s my job to be protective, and since my friends also grew up with her, they’re the same way.

It’s lighthearted and all in good fun, but still conveys the warning that if Javi ever does hurt her, he’ll be facing the wrath of five Alphas.

We protect our own here in the six-pack alliance.

Though I suppose he’s one of us now, too, since his pack has officially been welcomed into the fold.

They’ve moved into the former guest cabins on the old ski resort until they can get their new territory built out, which will be just south of my own pack’s territory.

Our parents are thrilled that Lo will be settling so close to home.

Speaking of, it isn’t long before my sister and the girls stroll into the bar to join us. Cheyenne has noticeably loosened up, so when Lo comes over to greet Javi with a big smooch and we both avert our gazes, I seize the opportunity to try to engage her in conversation again.

“So, you’re an Aggies fan?” I ask slyly as I lift my beer.

Chey’s brows knit together in confusion, her freckled nose crinkling. “A what?”

I take a swig from the bottle, swallowing as I point the tip of it toward the logo on her t-shirt, which I finally was able to get a good look at. “Texas A&M,” I state. “Aggies football? I just assumed…”

“Oh,” she breathes, laughing softly to herself as she flips her hair back behind her shoulders and glances down at the front of her shirt, like she’s only just realized what she’s wearing. “No, I picked this up at a thrift shop,” she murmurs with a shrug.

Now that the side of her neck is exposed, my gaze unwittingly drops to the scar at the base of it.

A mate marking. I first noticed it earlier today on the practice field, but when I asked my sister, she assured me Cheyenne is single.

There’s no masculine scent on her, so the bond was obviously broken somehow, whether by choice or by death.

Is it bad to say I hope it’s the latter?

It’ll be harder to win her over if she’s still pining for some long-lost mate. And I will win her over.

She must realize where my gaze has wandered, because she abruptly sweeps her hair back in front of her shoulders to cover her neck, her cheeks reddening.

Guess whoever gave her that mark isn’t dead, then.

If shifters survive losing their mate, their mark becomes a symbol of remembrance, not a source of embarrassment. The curiosity is killing me, but I just take another swig of my beer and act like I didn’t even see the mark on her skin, changing the subject before things get awkward.

“You should let me take you out sometime, show you around the territory,” I drawl, hitting her with my most charming grin.

Her amber eyes bounce up to meet mine. “What, like a date?” she snorts.

I dip my chin in a nod.

She chokes on a laugh, then quickly schools her expression when she realizes I’m not laughing along with her. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Yeah,” I say, still playing it cool even though my ego just took a hit.

I’ve asked out girls plenty of times, and their response has never been laughter.

Maybe I’m losing my touch.

Chey frowns, shaking her head. “Sorry, but I don’t… you seem like a nice guy, but… I mean, you’re Lo’s brother.”

“So?” I challenge.

She purses her lips– full and pink and way too kissable looking. “Don’t you think that’s a little close for comfort?”

“Nah,” I scoff, setting my beer bottle down and resting an elbow against the table, the picture of casual. “C’mon. Let me take you out,” I coax.

“I don’t think so,” she replies, chuckling uncomfortably.

“Why not?” I press.

“I don’t date.”

Damn, she’s really playing hard to get here.

The grin usually works.

“Neither did my sister, and now she’s dating your best friend,” I point out, tipping my head in their direction.

“They’re mates,” she corrects.

“Who’ve been on dates.”

She rolls her eyes, reaching for the glass in front of her and bringing it to her lips. She already drained her drink, but she tips it back for a piece of ice, crunching down as she lowers her glass.

“I’ve heard that chewing ice is a sign of being sexually frustrated,” I joke, and she immediately stops chewing, her eyes snapping to mine.

Think I just hit the nail on the head.

She averts her gaze, and the moment our connection is broken, I pick up on the conversation happening around us about the upcoming full moon run.

“You and your pack should probably come run within the actual territory, Javi,” Archer muses.

“You guys are welcome to run with us” I interject, seamlessly hopping right into the discussion. I lean forward, looking past Chey to meet Javi’s eyes. “I mean, our packs are kinda linked now through Lo, right?”

And if Javi’s pack runs with mine, that means Cheyenne will be there.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Javi agrees.

I grin smugly as I lift my beer to my lips, tipping it back and finishing off the rest.

That gives me two days to change her no into a yes.

Game on.