Chapter 47 Marcus #2
“It’s nice to have found you,” the man said. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone would stop him, before walking up to Max and shaking his hand. “I’m Brendan, and these are our brothers. We look forward to getting to know you.”
Max looked utterly overwhelmed.
“Me too,” he said.
The man turned to Marcus and Odin. “So, what now?”
He sounded like he was used to taking charge, and though he must be nervous, he was doing a good job of hiding it.
Odin shot Marcus a questioning look.
During the planning of the operation to rescue Warren, he had suggested incorporating Max’s brothers into the Northwestern pack and –depending on what they saw when they took the base –integrating them into the mercenary operation in his district.
Satisfied with the behavior of Max’s brothers, Marcus nodded to Odin to signal his approval of the idea.
Sending Max’s brothers to Odin would be a good way to help them acclimatize to life in a werewolf pack – without throwing them into the deep end of the more traditional districts.
With Odin – or Braxton, if Odin really retired – they could continue working as mercenary private contractors while getting used to being around other werewolves.
“We’ve been looking at your operation,” Odin said, making Brendan’s attention snap to him. “Though you weren’t prepped to face other werewolves, you have an impressive track record. Are you familiar with the Northwest pack’s private contracting operations?”
Brendan nodded. “Yeah, you guys are beasts. One of the units we worked with had done a rotation with some of your guys. They had good things to say.”
“We’d like you to join – both our pack and our operations,” Marcus said. As the alpha of the Northwestern pack, the offer should come from him.
Brendan looked relieved.
“Or you could come stay with me and Harland,” Max suggested, looking to Harland with an expression that dared him to disagree. “Harland is an alpha, too.”
Odin whipped his head around, his shock palpable.
“Or that,” Marcus conceded.
Odin’s shocked look morphed into one of pure astonishment.
“I think Marcus’s pack is the best option,” Harland said, his head dipping in a differential nod in Marcus’s direction. “It will be easier to integrate into a large pack.”
Max deflated, glancing bashfully at his brothers. “I guess.”
“You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get to know them,” Marcus said, patting his back.
Max opened his mouth to respond, but Warren and his sister chose that moment to exit the chopper. All eyes turned to them, and Warren froze mid-step at the sudden attention. The bruised bump on his forehead and red-rimmed eyes made the rage well back up in Marcus’s gut.
It had a similar effect on his mates.
“Who did that?” Harland growled, the sound all the more menacing coming from behind his visor.
“General Taylor,” Marcus said through gritted teeth. “Odin killed him.”
“Good,” Max said, his tone vicious.
Brendan and his brothers all looked uncomfortable, their gazes downcast.
“Hi,” Warren said, shooting Marcus and the rest of them a tentative wave. His sister peeked out at them from behind his back, her eyes wide.
Max launched himself forward in a burst of motion, no doubt intending to scoop Warren up into a bone-crushing hug, but Harland caught him by the back of his jacket before he made it more than a foot.
“Calm,” Harland ordered, his voice firm. He kept his grip on the back of Max’s jacket, waiting for him to take a deep breath and get himself under control.
Warren, who had jumped back at the initial burst of speed, didn’t look alarmed, though his sister looked wary.
“I am calm,” Max said, his voice breathless. He tripped from foot to foot, suppressing an impatient whine when Harland didn’t release him.
After turning to give his sister a quick hug and whisper something into her ear, Warren walked toward them.
When he felt Max regain control over his wolf across their bond, Harland released his hold on the back of his shirt, and together the two of them waited for Warren to approach. Marcus nodded at Odin, who promptly gave the order for everyone to disperse into the waiting cars.
When Warren was almost within reach, Max closed the remaining steps between them and lifted him into his arms.
“I was so worried about you!”
“I’m okay,” Warren mumbled, his voice muffled from his face being pushed into Max’s chest.
Marcus and Harland shared a look before moving forward, positioning themselves so that the three of them were in a loose triangle with Warren in the middle.
Reaching forward, Harland threaded his gloved fingers through Warren’s hair.
He held himself still and composed, but Marcus could feel how frustrated he was at having to wear the helmet through their bond.
His mate’s need to bury his nose into Warren’s skin and take in his scent without any barriers in the way was so strong that Marcus found himself leaning down and dipping his nose into Warren’s neck in an attempt to drown it out.
“Let’s get going,” Marcus said, lifting his head and nudging Max to lower Warren back to the ground. “It’s time to go home.”