CHAPTER 4
The Kolbeck mansion was no less impressive the second time around. A pristine antique colonial constructed of pale limestone, it sprawled back from its original foundation in a series of elegant additions that seamlessly blended the old and the new.
The icy chill of Michael’s ward still clung to me when Ronald pulled the SUV up to the front.
I slipped out of my door as we rolled to a stop and went around to the other side of the vehicle.
Movement in the tree line caught my eye.
I swept my gaze over the forest in what I hoped was a casual glance.
No less than four guards had us within their sights.
More prowled the woods. Footsteps told me two were perched high up on the roof, but there weren’t enough wolves out here to explain the wild, frenetic energy that filled my veins, an energy that told me somewhere nearby, shifters were gathered en masse.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake free of the feeling.
The magic of so many werewolves gathered together had turned the sultry air of a summer day into something dark and electric.
My skin itched. I felt a howl building in the back of my throat.
The passenger side doors swung open, snapping me out of it. I strode forward, and together, Michael and I helped Amy down from the vehicle. Ronald remained buckled into the driver seat.
I frowned at him. “You’re not coming?”
He shook his head. “Figured I’d stick close to the car.”
In case we needed to make a hasty getaway? I hoped it didn’t come to that. Michael’s mother blamed me for our first disappearing act. A second flight from the house would do nothing to improve my standing with her.
We shut the doors and turned toward the house.
From her scent, Amy was still in some pain, and the effort of healing the damage she and the baby sustained was starting to take its toll.
Her dark eyes were bloodshot, their lids heavy with exhaustion.
I slipped my arm around her shoulders and coaxed her into placing one foot in front of the other.
We passed through the front door into the foyer, where the ceiling rose thirty feet overhead.
Priceless art hung on the walls. I heard the sound of running feet and fought a wave of déjà vu as Michael’s youngest sister, Elizabeth, careened around the corner of the hallway.
Her long blond hair fanned out around her as she slid to a stop on the parquet floor.
She was dressed in a green pleated skirt with a matching sweater vest over a white button-down.
It looked like a school uniform. In her hand, she held a heavy, ancient-looking leatherbound tome.
“In here,” she said, dashing through a nearby doorway.
We followed her into a stately sitting room that looked like something out of an English manor. Huge paintings crowded side-by-side on the walls. A glittering chandelier hung overhead. On the far side of the room, an uncomfortable-looking silk settee sat beneath the windows. We beelined for it.
Elizabeth had the book open in her hands as we eased Amy down onto the cushions. She flicked through the pages with dizzying speed.
“Where’s Mother?” Michael asked.
His kid sister glanced up at him, frowning. “She’s in a meeting with the rest of the pack higher-ups. I thought you knew?”
Ah, so that explained this feeling of having stuck my finger into an electrical socket. There was a large group of shifters somewhere on the grounds.
Anger lanced through the bond. Apparently Michael hadn’t heard about the meeting. Wasn’t he supposed to be his mother’s prodigy? Her second in command? Amy had been all about the optics of their rift earlier, but what did it say to the pack when their alpha left her beta out of meetings?
As much as I didn’t want to see the woman, her absence was jarring. Amy had texted her in the car, alerting her to what happened. You’d think a mother would be waiting at the door to check on her injured pregnant daughter, but there was no sign of her.
I swallowed Michael’s anger and forced my tone to neutral. “Does she plan to take a break from her meeting to come check on Amy?”
Lizzy shook her head, glancing from me to Michael and back again.
That settled that then. Mary knew her pregnant daughter had been injured and couldn’t even take a five-minute break from business to see her.
I will not snarl. I will not snarl. I will not snarl.
Sensing that she’d been the bearer of bad news, Lizzy went back to her rifling. Her fingers landed on a page filled with unfamiliar runes, and she pulled her head up and looked at her older sister. “Ready?”
Amy nodded.
I looked between the two of them, eyes settling on Lizzy. “What are you going to do?”
“Cast a basic diagnostics spell,” she said. “And then figure out what I need to fix.”
So she was a mystic, too. I’d wondered about it when I first met her, after she said she felt me enter the grounds.
Magic wielders were rare among our kind, cherished.
They didn’t belong to any one pack, but served werewolves as a whole.
Most wolves would lay down their lives to keep them safe.
To have two in one family was almost unheard of.
Michael pulled me away as Lizzy lifted her hand, palm out, toward Amy. I thought we would stay with them, watch from a quiet distance, but he kept tugging on my arm. When I was too slow to react, he laced his fingers through mine and dragged me straight out of the room in a very un-Michael move.
I jerked on my hand. “What are you doing? They might need us.” Lizzy was just a kid after all, barely into her teenage years. “Shouldn’t we stay to supervise?”
In answer, Michael sent me a look over his shoulder that chilled me to the bone.
He’d locked himself down the moment I told him I could see the wards.
His scent was neutral. Almost nothing came over the bond.
Even his heartbeat had slowed, making my own feel sluggish in my chest. Judging from his eyes, he was hiding his emotions because deep down, he was freaking the fuck out.
A set of footfalls came from around a bend in the hallway up ahead.
Michael veered left, toward a large tapestry, and I found myself pulled into a hidden alcove.
He turned so that his back was to the stone wall, using his grip on my hand to tug me closer.
Because we were the same height, we stood chest to chest and eye to eye in the darkness.
His warmth flared over me, bringing with it the smell of fur and sunshine and Michael.
My eyesight adjusted as he lifted a finger to his lips, indicating silence.
This was the first time we’d been alone since getting back to the city, and despite the events of the morning and the storm of emotions that continued to rage through me, my awareness of him shot into the stratosphere.
I stroked my palms up his chest, feeling the hard plane of muscle hidden beneath his suit.
He lifted a hand and brushed the hair back from my shoulder.
His eyes fell to my neck, and he delicately traced his fingertips in a circle over my skin, outlining the faint, silvery scar tissue left by his teeth.
The iridescent sheen of amber rolled over his eyes.
I felt his dick begin to swell against my low belly, and thanks to the way the bond amplified everything between us, my own desire for him increased tenfold.
An appreciative hum slipped from his lips, so low that it was almost a growl.
He liked the sight of the still-healing bite.
No doubt he’d try to mark me again the next time we got naked.
I shivered and leaned forward, pressing my nose to the base of his throat, taking deep breaths of the heady aroma of his arousal. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, his erection straining between us.
That settled that then. Michael wasn’t having any doubts about our relationship becoming physical. In fact, judging by the desire coursing through the bond, Michael had no problem with getting physical again. Right now.
The footsteps beyond our hidey-hole faded into the distance.
I leaned back and lifted my gaze to his.
Goddess help me, I wanted him to pin me to the wall and shove into me right here.
If not for the fact that I knew we couldn’t get away with it, I might have been begging him.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of keeping quiet, and I doubted we’d be able to keep our power in check, either.
Michael must have come to the same conclusion. A low, savage snarl of a male denied his mate echoed through the stone alcove. He leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss against my lips that curled my toes.
We broke apart too soon, and I rested my forehead against his and tried to catch my breath. Strangely, I felt better. The stress of this morning had been intense, but knowing our bond was secure settled me in a way that would have scared me shitless just a few short days ago.
I dragged in one last inhale and stepped away from him, offering my hand. He laced his fingers through mine, and we both shuddered at the contact.
His teeth flashed in the dim light. “Part of me hopes that we never get used to this.”
Ack, my heart. If he kept making confessions like that, I’d be in real trouble.
The urge to kiss him again was overwhelming, but if we started something, stopping would be even harder a second time around. Instead I smiled back and squeezed his hand.