Chapter Eight
Marcus
My head felt trapped beneath a hydraulic press.
What the hell was I thinking ingesting all that wolfsbane?
I hadn’t been that reckless since Ethan and I were teenagers. Young and stupid. No responsibilities of our own—but all the perks that came as future alpha and beta.
I thought Ethan had changed, that his love for power fell second to his love for duty and the promises we made to our pack…
But his greed made him weak. And that weakness had cost him his life.
I fought hard for him for a month before his death. The elders wanted him punished for disappearing for days and coming home drunk. But he was my beta. My best friend. And I was their alpha.
Joanna’s eyes widened when I didn’t react to Ethan’s name last night.
I could pretend and say his betrayal no longer bothered me, that his joining the uprising destroyed the love I had for the wolf I’d once considered a brother.
But how long could I keep lying to myself when I felt like a piece of shit for wanting to spit on his grave because he’d tasted her?
Been inside her? That he’d known what it felt like to hear her moan his—
“Fuck.” The egg I held in my hand was now nothing more than pieces of shell, yellow ooze seeping through my fingers.
I stole a glance toward the bed. To my relief, Joanna hadn’t stirred. I threw my head back and took a deep, calming breath. Then I got to work picking pieces of eggshell out of the mixing bowl.
This. This was the problem.
Sure, I’d decided to reject the bond, but was the Goddess going to make it easy for me?
All it took to stop mourning my best friend was the thought of his lips on the hunter’s mahogany skin. And the real reason I was so calm last night was that Joanna’s answer would’ve trumped everything, even grief.
I needed to know if it was even possible that she could feel our bond… before I broke it.
I whisked the hell out of those eggs, and by the end, I owed Joanna a new fork to replace the mangled steel. Already smelling like a smoldering fire, the frying pan hissed as I poured in the beaten eggs, sounding eerily like the sound I forced through my clenched teeth.
Why would it matter if Joanna could feel the mating bond? Didn’t I already decide for the both of us that we wouldn’t work?
Ugh. The woman was going to be the death of me—and everyone else in her life.
Because if I couldn’t have her, well… I sure as hell wouldn’t suffer alone.
The bacon didn’t fight me the way the eggs did. And by the time the coffee finished brewing, I’d plated the toast.
It appeared, like werewolves, hunters understood the importance of a balanced meal. Joanna kept a stocked fridge, which made it easier to do something I’d never done before: bring a woman breakfast in bed.
It was my way of making amends for betraying her trust—nothing more. I pretty much told Joanna she wouldn’t get an apology from me in words, so in my opinion, it was a good alternative.
I imagine sleeping in the loft provided Joanna the comfort she’d lacked for days, one that neither her safehouse nor the compound could provide. She slept through every smell, each of my outbursts. Even through the chime of her doorbell.
It didn’t surprise me that James had no concept of boundaries. For the last five years, he’d probably been the first face Joanna saw every morning, and habits like that would’ve been hard to break, even if he hadn’t come to see her as a daughter.
I hurried to the front door in my boxers, afraid a second ring would be what woke Joanna. Not exactly the wardrobe to impress an old hunter, but it was the only dry thing I’d pulled from the still-spinning machine.
Shapeshifters couldn’t afford modesty. Our nature demanded we be ready to shift at any moment, shredding our clothes in the process.
James had fought beside me against the rogues, so he’d already seen me bare when I returned to human form.
As far as I was concerned, underwear was nothing more than a concession to his human fragility.
So, imagine my surprise when I went through the trouble, only to realize it hadn’t been James at the door.
The man gaped at me with wide hazel eyes, his finger frozen in the air as if I’d caught him mid-ring. When he dropped his hand, my wolf snarled at the way he shifted his weight. I’d seen that stance countless times before. It was a silent challenge among men.
No, it wasn’t stumbling upon my half-naked state that unnerved him. He seemed too fucking confident for someone just passing through.
So… he was here to see Joanna.
I swallowed hard and willed the pounding in my ears to ease. “Who are you?” I barked, my tone harsher than I’d anticipated.
“Unbelievable,” the stranger mumbled under his breath. He sighed and outstretched his hand. “You must be Marcus.”
My eyes narrowed. The man wore a light blue button-up and an expensive-looking pair of gray dress pants. The matching suit jacket draped over his left arm, hiding the gun secured in his shoulder rig.
“You’re not a hunter,” I declared, working to deaden my irritation.
The man closed his extended hand, letting it drop to his side. “I’m Agent Deandre Hill with the NBSA. Is Miss Sullivan home? This will only take a moment.”
My eyes narrowed. “What does the Bureau want with Joanna?”
The agent tensed his shoulders. “That’s a question for her to answer… if she wishes.” He’d dragged out his last words in a way that made my wolf snarl.
“Well, she’s asleep, but I’ll be sure to ask her for the details once she wakes up. Have a great day, Agent.” I closed the door, admittedly too pleased with the way it slammed. But the smirk on my face was short-lived. “I’m only messing with him,” I lied as Joanna shuffled behind me.
“Open the damn door, Marcus.”
I could think of a million reasons to ignore her—one being my now very alert wolf—but I sighed and obeyed the hunter’s command.
Deandre Hill was as I left him. Only this time, a scowl planted itself on his face. He maintained eye contact, unaware he risked not striking a match but the whole damn matchbook. It looked as if he had a million things he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.
Good.
Joanna pushed me aside, pulling the last bit of her t-shirt over her abdomen. “Hill,” she greeted with a winded voice. “Come in.”
I walked toward the couch as my wolf simmered beneath my skin.
The agent sauntered inside. “Thank you,” he replied briskly. “I know it’s early, but I wanted to address this face-to-face, given the situation.” He paused, nodding toward the kitchenette. “I’m sorry I interrupted your morning.”
Joanna’s head turned toward the island where breakfast awaited her. She whipped around to face me, her face scrunched up and her head cocked to the side in disbelief.
“The bacon smells delicious,” Hill continued. “Is it ham? Turkey?” He chuckled. “Next-door neighbor?”
Hilarious. I needed to put that one on a fucking t-shirt.
Joanna shook her head, unamused. “Hill, why are you here?”
Agent Hill sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news. But I wanted to assure you, we had nothing to do with the attack on that werewolf club.”
Joanna drew in a sharp breath and looked as if she intended to slump against the door before thinking otherwise.
My chest tightened.
Last night, blood covered almost every inch of my clothes. Joanna listened, and she let me believe my kin were the only ones culpable. All the while, the possibility that humans had bombed Club Luna had worried her.
“By the time our agents arrived on the scene,” Hill continued, “most of the werewolves who’d survived the blasts were long gone. And there’s not much humans can give us when magical stamps are scrambling their brains.”
“Each of the werewolves said the same thing,” I began gruffly. “There were multiple blasts, and even with our heightened senses, no one could tell where they were coming from.”
Hill’s incredulous stare made me itch. “How do you know that?”
“Wait,” Joanna interjected. “I thought you were at the club when the attack happened.”
“I was at the club,” I answered with a sigh. “But I was lucky. I’d stepped outside for some fresh air before the bombs went off.”
The light in Joanna’s eyes dimmed, and her entire body tensed.
“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Hill asked, the cocky demeanor he’d harbored moments ago now nowhere to be found. “Anything you may have noticed yourself? We have the bartender’s statement. He believes members of the uprising are responsible.”
“The bartender and I saved who we could. That was a lot easier to do with shifters than with humans. And the rogues have cost the club a lot of business trying to recruit there. Shifters stopped going on principle. Humans, I’m pretty sure, only followed suit.”
Hill nodded. “Have you seen any of the rogues actively pursuing followers?”
“No.” All the rogues I’d met were now dead, except… “But Joanna’s…” I looked to Joanna for emphasis and paused.
She was a deer in headlights. Her heart thrummed faster in her chest, and I felt a shift in her aura as she panicked, in fear of my next words.
“But Joanna’s had more conversations with human club goers than I have,” I continued, satisfied once Joanna’s heart calmed. “I don’t normally go there for human companionship.”
Hill snorted. “Befriending them would make it hard to eat them later.”
I turned to Joanna. “Then I guess I’m lucky we weren’t friends back then, huh?” It took a few seconds for my words to register, but once they did, I licked my lips and winked at her despite her gasp of embarrassment.
“Why did you attend that club?” Hill asked Joanna, judgment heavy in his tone.
She stopped looking daggers at me to roll her eyes at Hill. “I already told you. I was following Ethan’s lead about my sister’s murder.”
My nostrils flared at the familiarity in Joanna’s tone. “It seems you two have spent some time together.” My wolf snarled as I waited for one of them to explain.
“Yesterday, the Bureau threatened me and James.”