CHAPTER 9
Michael was going to lose it. I could feel his anger clawing its way out of the back of my mind, trying to infect my thoughts.
We were only a few days into our bond, we’d just consummated it, and now a big, dangerous wolf posed a threat to his mate.
He was so used to being in control, anticipating situations and planning his outward responses to them, that he couldn’t handle this chaos for much longer.
Screw it. If I couldn’t reassure him telepathically, I’d just have to do it verbally.
I slid my arm behind his back as we followed the guards toward the rear of the house.
We’d had just enough time to chuck my bags into the back of the waiting Range Rover and tell Ronald what was happening before my Viking challenger got impatient.
“You’re okay,” I said, stroking my hand over Michael’s back.
The male guard threw a confused look at us over his shoulder.
I got it. To anyone else, Michael looked like he was bored by this drama.
His arms were loose at his sides, body relaxed, expression close to petulant.
He looked like a wealthy man with better things to do with his time than watch a couple of wolves claw at each other, even if one of those wolves was his mate.
Hell, if I didn’t know how close he was to snapping, I’d say it looked like he didn’t even like me all that much, which I’m sure was his intent.
Ronald must have caught it—that Michael was a little too put together for this situation—because he leaned in on his other side. “No matter what happens, you cannot intervene.”
Michael flicked a hand at him in dismissal. “Yes. I’m aware of the rules.”
Ronald’s expression darkened. “As long as you remember them when her blood starts to flow.”
My vision went black for a heartbeat, and I stumbled.
Michael was suddenly furious. He reached out just long enough to steady me before letting my arm go.
A hint of remorse slipped through his shields, but it was so subtle compared to his anger that I barely felt it.
The thought of someone harming me had sent him to a dark place that I really didn’t want to get pulled into, and yet, somehow, he still looked relaxed.
He still smelled relaxed. If not for the way we’d blown our bond wide open the other night, I might not even know how close he was to the edge.
I looked away from him, toward the blond guy leading our little party.
No matter what happened, I couldn’t let that man get his claws on me.
Fights for dominance usually lasted until one of the wolves was incapacitated.
If I loosened the bars of my metaphysical cage and fought this wolf in truth, I’d be giving Mary the display of power she so clearly wanted.
On the other hand, if I pretended to be weaker than I was and my opponent actually hurt me, Michael would snap. I needed to play this carefully.
So far, I’d seen the Kolbecks’ stables-turned-garage, the interior of the house, and what little of the grounds I’d glimpsed during our nighttime escape.
I’d smelled the pool and blacktop of tennis courts, but I had no idea just how expansive the backyard was.
Several outbuildings extended off the main home, forming a horseshoe shape.
Beyond them, the lawn rolled down a lazy hill, butting right up to the edge of a dense forest that a late relative of Michael’s spent a small fortune procuring.
Milling in this space were at least two dozen wolves.
Some were dressed in suits like Michael.
Others wore less formal clothing, slacks and jeans and sundresses.
I caught a familiar face weaving through the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief to see another ally here.
It was Monica, one of Michael’s lieutenants. I’d met her yesterday and instantly admired her no-bullshit nature. Today she wore her braids up in a high bun. A pink sleeveless dress popped against her dark skin. Her eyes were locked on me as she beelined toward us.
“Don’t hold back on him,” she said, jerking her head toward blondie, who was swaggering into the crowd like he’d already won.
Ronald made a low sound of disagreement. “She could kill him if she’s not careful.”
Michael caught my gaze and held it, and I didn’t need any psychic communication to decipher his thoughts. Better kill this guy by accident and keep our secrets than risk exposure in front of so many witnesses.
I shook my head. “There’s no chance of me killing him. I’ve been in enough fights to know how much force I need to use to subdue someone.” I glanced over at Michael. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to do.”
An idea took shape in the back of my mind. One that would both piss Mary off and keep Michael’s bonding instincts from going haywire.
Something of my plan must have slipped through because he stiffened, top lip threatening to curl up. If he were in wolf form, his hackles would be standing on end.
I stepped forward and took him by the wrist. “Just know that I’m in control the whole time. Watch me, Michael. Really watch me.”
His gaze darted to the left, toward our crowd of witnesses. He wanted to say something but wouldn’t with anyone he didn’t trust in hearing distance.
I squeezed his wrist and dropped my voice. “If it becomes too much, just say ‘end it,’ and I will.”
Those dark eyes came back to mine. Were they darker than a moment ago? His magic threatening to break free? As I watched, they cleared, and he jerked his chin down in the barest hint of a nod.
I let out the breath I’d been holding as he stepped back, putting space between us. If he wanted to play like we weren’t as close as we were, fine, but anyone with a nose and even the barest understanding of how bonding worked could scent the truth for themselves.
Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned to see the wolves parting like a tide, a small, diminutive form clad in pink Chanel striding through the widening gap. Mary. Wonderful.
Run! my instincts screamed, but I forced my limbs to loosen, to keep from clenching up in an outward display of discomfort, and held my ground.
Michael’s mother might have been small for a wolf, but she had a presence that I felt like a physical weight pushing me down.
Submit, submit, submit. That was the single word she projected, from her body language to her expression to her scent.
Wolves dipped their heads in acquiescence as she passed them, as if she was a queen promenading through a throng of commoners.
The sight made me want to snarl. Not only did I dislike Mary, but this authoritative style of command was utterly foreign to me.
My alpha back home, Brian, led our pack like a democracy.
Everyone had a voice and a vote. We didn’t make a single move unless there was a majority consensus.
From everything I’d learned so far, Mary ruled her wolves with an iron fist, and anyone who openly disagreed with her could expect to face intimidation at best and violence at worst.
“Mother,” Michael intoned as she reached us. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”
I didn’t get a chance to gauge her reaction to the sarcasm he packed into the greeting because I dropped my gaze like the dutiful subordinate I was.
“Michael,” Mary said, her greeting punctuated by the sound of two air kisses.
I looked up as they drew apart, careful to keep my gaze from meeting Mary’s. She was a woman who missed nothing, and I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t note the barely restrained panic hiding in my eyes.
She made a tutting sound as she stared up at her son. “I’m disappointed in you for not arriving in time for the meeting.”
Oh, so that’s how she wanted to play this. Like she had invited Michael, but he was the one who declined to show. I glanced at my mate to see how he’d respond to this bullshit, but he just smiled and shook his head.
“I must have missed the meeting notice,” he said. “Apologies.”
Behind Mary, other wolves approached, most of them in business formal attire.
A waspish brunette woman in her forties was the first to reach us.
She was my height, her blue eyes staring boldly into mine.
They flashed with an amusement that looked more antagonistic than friendly.
She extended a diamond-encrusted hand toward me in greeting, fingers turned down in a way that made me wonder if she was offering to shake or if she expected me to kiss the back of it.
“Hello, I’m Nancy Goldman,” she said, her voice that distinctive blend of old-money New Englander that sounded borderline British. “You must be Layla.”
I shook her limp fish of a hand and released her as quickly as possible. “I am. Nice to meet you.”
Her gaze darted to Mary and then back to me, a hint of a grin lingering around the corners of her mouth. “I thought we’d meet you days ago,” she said, raising her voice enough to carry. “Mary was so kind to allow you and Michael time to yourselves before making introductions.”
Behind her back, several wolves smiled. None of those smiles were nice.
I wondered what the hell was happening for all of two seconds before I realized what was going on.
This woman must have known that Michael and I fled from the house and was subtly goading Mary about her inability to control her child.
Yikes. Was this my first glimpse of the interpack politics Michael warned me about?
I kept my mouth shut instead of responding. No way was I playing into this woman’s hand. I was already on Mary’s bad side.
A Latino man who looked to be in his sixties joined Nancy, standing even with her, like soldiers lining up for battle.
His dark eyes went from me to Michael to Mary.
“You must be so pleased to finally have a MacKenzie Valley wolf in the family. What a coup, sending two of your sons to New Hampshire in hopes of snagging her.”