2. Morgan #2
“Oh shit.” It’s whispered from the pub across the road, but it’s loud and clear to us. The guy pales as we all turn to look at him. But it’s not him my gaze lingers on.
It’s the other one.
The man opposite him: slim, blond, hot. A lock of hair falls across his forehead as he draws his plump bottom lip between his teeth. Something about that mouth, that sharp jawline, is surprisingly familiar, but I can’t place him.
He’s also the one who called out to Kira.
His gaze snaps to mine, and once again I feel that tug between my ribs, that spark of interest, and I cut that shit off at the knees, because now really isn’t the fucking time.
And he’s human.
I don’t care how hot he is, I’m not going there.
Not again.
Still, it’s harder than it should be to tear my gaze away from him.
Gritting my teeth, I turn back to Birch, growling softly, too low for human ears. “This is happening. Whether you want an audience or not is up to you.”
He snarls back. “You’re a fucking psycho. Fighting here could get us all killed.”
He’s right, but I’ve got bigger fucking balls than him and it’s no surprise when he signals his men to get on their bikes.
Before he starts his engine, he points a finger at me and hisses, “The clearing two miles past the A483 turn off.”
I nod, but then he has to go and add, “By the way, I saw Beth the other day. She looked good. Missing fingers or not, I’d still fuck her.
” He grins, but his eyes are cold, hard.
“She was all on her own, ripe for the taking. Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll show her what she’s missing by spreading her legs for yo?—”
My fist connects with his face.
Rage floods my body, white-hot and fierce, as I haul him from his bike onto the ground.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I’ve played into his nasty little hands, but I’m too far gone to care. Beth is my sore spot, the tender underbelly that he knows exactly where to poke to get a rise out of me.
I should know better, I do know better, but for whatever reason, it gets to me today in a way I can’t ignore.
We’re in full view of more humans than I’d like, but that doesn’t stop me from punching his fucking face in or Birch from ramming his knee into my groin.
“ Fuck .” Goddess help me, that hurt. Pain radiates throughout my lower half, eyes watering from the way he grinds his leg into my cock and balls. If I could catch my breath, I’d curse him out for that, but I’m too busy sucking air into my lungs.
I want to use my teeth and claws—fighting without them feels wrong on so many levels—but I can’t risk giving those watching the proof they need that we exist.
But Birch can’t use his either, so we roll around on the floor, trading blows until our respective VPs tear us apart.
“ Enough !” Callum hisses, grabbing my shoulders and restraining me. I snarl, can’t help it, but his words break through the haze and I nod. I’m suddenly all too aware of the silence from the pub over the road.
We need to wrap this up quickly before someone calls the police. If they haven’t already.
“Now fuck off,” I hiss. “If I see you or your men here again, I won’t be so nice.” I smile with all my teeth and Birch bares his in a matching one.
“Keep yours out of my fucking forest and we won’t have a problem.”
His words piss me off because we were in his territory. I’m pretty sure he’s just guessing though, because there’s no way we left any scent trails. We’re too smart for that. I shrug, because I know that’ll piss him off.
It does.
He calls me a few choice names under his breath and then the four of them start their bikes and roar off in a cloud of dust and anger.
“All right?” Callum smacks my shoulder as he lets me go.
“Fucking Birch.”
“Yep.”
I’ve got better things to do today than worry about that arsehole, but they’ll all have to wait because that feeling I had earlier hasn’t gone away.
Callum Holt is my second in command but he’s also one of my best friends. We’re so attuned to each other, I’m not surprised when he comes to stand in front of me, dark eyes boring into mine. “What’s wrong?”
I sigh, because it’s not something I can put into words. “It’s probably nothing.” I deserve the scathing look I get for that.
Like I said, you never ignore instincts, and mine is telling me to be on fucking guard. “I’m not sure,” I say instead. It’s the truth this time, and he nods, getting it without me having to explain.
“We calling anyone else?”
Our route home takes us uncomfortably close to the edges of the Feral Beasts’ territory. It’s not an issue most days—we do our best to keep away from each other. “You think they’ll be waiting for us?”
He blows out a breath, glancing in the direction Birch went. “I would be, if I was him.”
After what went down just now, I would be too.
But Birch isn’t me.
The Feral Beasts are a bunch of fucking cowards. I’m not sure they’ll do anything other than crawl home and bitch about us. But there’s always a chance Birch could surprise me with a backbone.
There’s no way he’ll try and ambush us with just the three he had with him. If he’s going to do anything, he’ll send for backup first. We could probably take on whoever turns up to join him, but I’m not about to risk anyone getting hurt against those wankers.
Not with what’s coming in a few days.
“Get Jet and Mal to meet us just outside of town and tell Flint to double the guard in case those arseholes think attacking the compound is a better idea than ambushing us.”
He nods and pulls out his phone.
I get on my bike and start her up. The familiar purr of the engine settles my nerves some, but that niggle of wrongness lingers. I doubt it’ll go away until whatever’s going to happen, happens.
I just hope it can wait until after the weekend.
Turning to the others, I say, “Be extra fucking careful.”
They nod in return, and with one last look at the hot blond in the pub opposite—because I can’t seem to help myself—I lead them out. If it feels like I’m leaving something important behind, then that’s no fucker’s business but mine.