8. Lycan #2
“We can’t cut the trip short,” Ava said. “I’ve only just gotten a meeting with the third potential partner. If I land this deal, we’ll be halfway there, but I need the rest to guarantee the whole. Especially Scott.”
I shot a text off to Channing and Mill to update them on Ava’s encounter.
“For now, we stick together, the three of us,” I said. “No one goes anywhere alone.”
Poe agreed. “I ran through the schedule for the rest of the trip and made a few suggestions, specifically around the royal reception in a few days. Security will be tight, but… Here.” He tapped a few places on his phone and dropped a file directly to me. “It’s just a few tweaks. Nothing major.”
I glanced over it, noting alternate routes to our meetings and decoy vehicles to protect Ava’s identity better.
“I also suggest you continue your ruse of protecting the Bastards’ interests,” he said. “CFO or whatever. It might draw her out. I’ll stand in as head bodyguard.”
“This is well thought out,” Trouble said. “Thank you, Poe.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the floor. “Don’t mention it. Just doing my job.”
That dark, possessive aroma wafted off him again, pungent and predatory. But before any of us could comment on it, he cleared his throat and sat forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Walk me through the rest of the week in Copenhagen. Let’s take it step by step.”
I’d forgotten how methodical he was, how he could look at something from every angle, pick it apart, and see it from angles I could never imagine.
He was a master of strategy, of thinking like the enemy and anticipating their next move.
He’d been instrumental in helping us rescue Sol last year, and I had no doubt he’d been a big part of bringing Marx down a few weeks ago.
“I need to know more about her,” he said, “get a feel for the way her mind works.”
“I’ll tell Channing to reach out to you,” I said, adding that to my text.
“And that will help?” Ava asked, glancing back and forth between us.
“Poe is better at reading people than I am,” I explained.
“No, that’s not true,” Poe countered. “Lycan’s got better instincts. My ability is a little more psychological.”
“How so?” Ava’s eyes lit up, and I knew he’d hinted at something that could keep her curious for the rest of the night.
“It’s like…I can get inside their head, put myself in their shoes. What would I do if I were them? How would I be if I had their life? That sort of thing.”
“And you can do that with someone you’ve never met?”
His cheeks turned a bright shade of rose, and he hesitantly met her gaze. “My wolf picks up on things the human can’t.”
“Fascinating,” she said. “Will I have a magical ability, too?”
“It’s not so much magic as it is a talent,” Poe explained.
“Sol can calm people down, and Guin is especially good at riling people up,” I said. “You walk into rooms full of men who’ve already decided what you are, and by dessert, they’re handing you their money and thanking you for the privilege.”
“That’s not a magical ability. I got that from my father.”
“Exactly,” Poe explained.
Ava hummed thoughtfully, and Poe pulled one corner of his mouth into a half grin, and their combined joy lit something inside of me, filling my soul with a fiery need to keep doing it…to keep both of them happy and smiling…to simply keep both of them.
I pushed the thought away and cleared my throat, forcing myself to get back on track.
“There are others in the pack that have certain skills. Healers, alphas, techies. It takes all types, as they say,” Poe continued.
“Don’t worry, Trouble,” I said, reaching out to grab her knee with a gentle squeeze. “You’ll get to know your other half at the full moon, and once we get you back to the pack, you’ll figure out your place in it. You’ll be okay.”
A small growl echoed out of Poe’s throat before he clamped it down and coughed to hide it.
“About that,” he said, “I’d like to see the plot for where we’re going to change. Kodiak said it’s on RBMC territory?”
I dug through the files on my phone to send him the right link. “It’s on our shared drive.”
“I’ll take a look at this and get back to you with any other ideas.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m exhausted. Let me know if you need anything else. Otherwise, I’m just gonna…” Poe backed toward his bedroom and flashed a tight smile before walking away.
After the door closed behind him, Ava grabbed my hand and softened her eyes.
“You okay?” She gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Fine,” I said, trying to keep my cool. Why? Did I not seem fine? Did I look like a dejected little fuck every time I saw the beautiful Bastard?
She patted my fingers and returned to her laptop.
After that, she caught up on work, I took a nap, and Poe didn’t come out of his room for the rest of the night. When it came time to go to bed, I started to head toward my own suite, but Ava held out a hand and nodded toward her room instead.
“We are married, after all,” she said.
I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head. “Not like that.”
“Does it matter?” She shrugged. “I don’t want to be alone, and after today”—she looked in the direction of Poe’s closed door—“it seems like you could use the company.”
She wasn’t wrong, but I also didn’t want to hurt Poe more than I already had.
He’d said it wasn’t any of his business, and maybe he truly felt that way.
It was one thing to get married in a drunken craze, knowing the whole thing was a farce.
It was another to rub my ex’s nose in it and play house while he rode third wheel.
On the other hand, I’d never claimed to be a good person.
I’d been born an evil, selfish piece of shit, and I was probably going to die an evil, selfish piece of shit.
If there was one thing I knew for certain, it was the lengths a jealous man would go to for his beloved, whether it was the Seventh Earl of Weak Jawlines or the only male who’d ever held my heart.
I wanted…hell, I wanted things I had no business thinking, let alone entertaining.
I grabbed Ava’s hand, intertwined my fingers with hers, and dragged her to her room.
She read from her tablet while I caught up on Bastard business on my phone.
She must have been devouring something titillating because the decadent feminine notes of arousal burst from her skin every so often, nearly drawing me between her legs.
But we’d agreed to be friends. Our relationship/fake marriage wasn’t about that.
It was respect and admiration and…
Fuck, why had I ever thought that was a good idea?
“I think I’m going to sleep,” she said, turning to flick off the lights on her nightstand.
“Yeah, me too.” My eyelids felt like anvils, and my bones ached with the weariness of someone who’d depleted every ounce of energy they had.
It had been a long day. I scooted down in bed and raised an arm over my head as I tried to relax, tried to ignore the beautiful distraction next to me and the bigger one across the suite.
Ava rolled to face me, tucking her hand under her head so she was propped up on her elbow.
“I told him we were drunk,” she said. “He said it was none of his business.”
“It’s not,” I said, glancing at her.
“Sure,” she said. “He misses you. I saw it in his eyes when he walked through the door.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” I said.
“You miss him, too,” she continued, ignoring my protest.
“And?” I raised an eyebrow.
She pursed her lips and tucked herself into the side of my body, wrapping an arm over my stomach, her head on my chest.
“You’d make a cute couple,” she said. “A good team.”
“We did,” I admitted. “Until we didn’t.”
“I understand why you didn’t want to mate him,” she said. “Hell, I think we made the biggest mistake of our lives, doing what we did. But to break up entirely?”
“That was his idea,” I said, remembering the pain in his eyes and the stutter in his voice as he’d told me he couldn’t do this anymore. “I would have gone on the way we were. I would have stayed like that forever. He wanted something more. I can’t blame him for that.”
“He’s hurting,” she said. “So are you.”
“I’m in bed with a beautiful, half-naked female.” I traced the strap of her lace nightie over her shoulder, teasing at the lace on her breast. “Hard to be hurt in such a precarious position.”
She stared up at me with her big blue eyes, her other side peeking through as they shimmered and glowed in the dark.
I met her animal with my wolf, letting him surface.
He wanted to roll in between her thighs, slot himself inside her, and leave his pheromones all over this suite.
He wanted Poe to smell it, to seek it out, to blast mating scent until he exploded.
Was it mating scent?
Had to be. But it wasn’t a warning…not really. Yes, it smelled possessive, and yes, it was him marking his territory. But it didn’t scare my wolf off. No, instead it felt more like an invitation, which made me wonder…which one of us was he marking? And why now?
Two years we’d been together. Two years and not a damned bonding scent between us. But now, he spent ten minutes in a room with Ava Vanderbilt, and he’s a Godsdamned perfumery?
Aw, fuck.
My instincts blared, my wolf howling as realization hit. What if he was mated to her? It could happen suddenly, out of nowhere. I’d seen pack members who’d known each other their whole lives wake up one day and suddenly know. It could be an amazing experience. It could rip families apart.
In the end, magic did whatever it wanted to; fuck the consequences.
If Poe and Ava were mates, there was nothing any of us could do about it.
I’d have to force the annulment. I’d have to step aside.
I’d have to watch helplessly as Poe and Ava officially mated and swore their lives to each other and…