6. Havoc
Havoc
“Are you fucking serious?” I bark at Wreck.
“Gia’s birthday is coming up, and I’ve got to file all this damn paperwork with the state. Just pick up her present for me, would ya?”
Wreck growls the words from behind the desk at the A-Feral station like somehow I’m the asshole in this situation.
He looks pissed.
But so am I.
I mean, fuck. Since when do I go to crowded fucking places?
More importantly, since when do I go to the goddamn mall for him or anyone else?
I stare at him.
He stares back.
Neither one of us blinks.
Monster perks up inside me because apparently the bastard thinks this might finally get interesting.
It won’t.
I’m not fighting Wreck over a fucking birthday present.
Probably.
“Dude, you need to find, like, some teenage girl to go shopping for you. I don’t fucking know what the hell I’m supposed to—”
Wreck roars.
Not growls.
Roars.
The sound rattles the windows.
Monster immediately surges to his feet.
Challenge.
“No.”
My Wolf snarls.
“Sit your furry ass down. We are not fighting the Bear because he doesn’t know how to buy shit for his mate.”
Wreck’s mismatched eyes narrow.
“You talking to me or the Wolf?”
“Yes.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Just pick up the fucking present, Havoc.”
“Why me?”
“Justin’s out checking the east perimeter.”
“Smart fucker.”
“And I have six reports due because apparently the state doesn’t accept we put the fucking fire out as sufficient documentation.”
I glance at the mountain of paperwork on the desk.
Huh.
He does look miserable.
Good.
“Still not seeing how that becomes my problem.”
Wreck leans back in the chair.
“Because I’m asking you.”
Something in his voice changes.
Not a dominance challenge exactly.
Not a direct order.
It’s just Wreck.
The beast we chose to lead us.
Our Alpha.
Fuck.
I hate that shit.
Because if he tried to force me, Monster and I would fight him just for the hell of it.
But he doesn’t. So I don’t.
In fact, Wreck almost never demands anything from Justin or me.
He asks.
And somehow that makes refusing the bastard harder.
Maybe that’s why this weird little Alpha arrangement of ours works.
He doesn’t want shit from us. Doesn’t want us bowing and scraping. Doesn’t expect blind obedience.
He just handles whatever needs handling and trusts us to do the same.
Asshole.
But he’s a good man.
A good Alpha.
Not like me.
“Fine.”
Wreck grunts.
“But you fucking owe me.”
“Sure.”
“I mean it.”
“Yeah.”
“And if I get murdered by a pack of suburban mothers fighting over a sale rack, I’m haunting your ass.”
“Wouldn’t notice the difference.”
“Fuck you.”
His mouth twitches.
I give him the finger and walk away.
Monster is disappointed.
No fight.
“Not today.”
Weak.
“Fuck off.”
I swear the bastard laughs.
After this morning’s drills, I’m covered in enough sweat and grime to qualify as a fucking biohazard, so I haul my ass toward the showers.
Twenty minutes later, I’m clean, wearing jeans and a dark T-shirt, and standing beside my truck wondering where the hell my life went wrong.
A mall.
I’m going to a fucking mall.
For a birthday present. Ugh. Fine. Gia is a wonderful woman.
Really.
She is sweet. Funny. Tougher than she looks. And she did something for Wreck that I didn’t think anybody could do.
She settled him.
Not weakened him.
That distinction matters.
Wreck is more dangerous now than he was before Gia came along. Maybe more feral, too.
He just has somewhere to put all that aggression. Something worth protecting instead of something to fight against. Gia gave the Bear a center. An anchor.
She is his Omega.
Monster shifts beneath my skin.
Gabby.
“No.”
Silence.
“Don’t fucking start.”
Mine.
My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“She isn’t.”
The Wolf snorts and retreats.
Smug fucker.
I turn the truck toward town.
Gia might be a wonderful woman, but Lord knows how she puts up with Wreck.
Then again...
I think about the way she looks at him.
Like the scars don’t matter.
Like the growling doesn’t scare her.
Like all the shit Wreck spent years believing made him unlovable is simply part of the male she chose.
My chest gets tight.
I immediately turn up the radio.
Fuck that.
The mall is exactly as terrible as I expected.
Too bright. Too loud. Too many fucking people.
Music plays from hidden speakers, kids run around like escaped zoo animals, and about fifty different perfumes assault my nose simultaneously.
Shifter senses and shopping malls do not fucking mix.
I find the store Wreck sent me to, shove the pickup information at the cashier, and wait while she disappears into the back to retrieve whatever overpriced shit the Bear bought for his mate.
Probably jewelry.
Definitely something shiny.
Wreck has become embarrassingly predictable.
I’m leaning against the counter when a display catches my eye.
Journals.
Fancy ones.
Leather covers. Embossed designs. Some with ribbons and little pockets inside.
My first instinct is to ignore them.
Then I remember Gia talking about the baby. Her cub.
She’s always taking pictures lately. Writing shit down on scraps of paper. Something about wanting to remember everything.
I pick up one of the journals.
Soft brown leather.
A tree embossed across the front with its roots spreading around the cover.
Huh.
Gia’s a Dryad.
Tree.
Makes sense.
I flip it open.
Thick paper. A place for dates. Plenty of room to write.
She could use it for the pregnancy. Write down memories. Maybe give it to the kid someday.
Fuck.
I’m buying a pregnancy journal.
I glance around.
Nobody better fucking know about this.
“No, I’m not a bitch,” I mutter. “Fuck you very much.”
An older woman beside me looks startled and quickly moves away.
Whatever. Wild animal and all.
But I do have manners.
Sometimes.
Besides, Gia is family now.
Or whatever the hell we’re calling this thing we’ve built up on the mountain.
Clan. Pack. Crew.
I don’t fucking know.
But she’s Wreck’s mate, which means she matters.
The cashier comes back carrying Wreck’s bag.
“Oh, that journal is lovely,” she says when I set it on the counter. “Is it a gift?”
I stare at her.
She swallows.
“Right. Of course it is.”
I grunt.
“For someone expecting?”
Another stare.
“Sorry.”
She finally shuts up.
Smart woman.
Next, she rings me up. I pay, grab both bags, and head for the exit.
Mission accomplished.
Now I can leave this cursed fucking place and never return.
I’m maybe fifty feet from freedom when it hits me.
A scent.
Faint at first. Almost buried beneath cinnamon pretzels, perfume, floor cleaner, and a dozen other smells.
But Monster catches it. And the Wolf in me explodes to attention.
I stop dead.
Woodsmoke.
Crisp blue skies.
September mornings when the air is cool enough to bite at your lungs.
Warm female.
It’s her.
“Fuck me.”
Gabriella.
I turn my head.
Nothing.
People everywhere.
Monster doesn’t care.
Find her.
“I am not tracking a woman through a mall.”
Find her now.
“No.”
My feet start moving.
Motherfucker.
I follow her scent without thinking about it. It gets stronger as I move through the crowd.
Sweeter.
Warmer.
That strange hidden note underneath it teasing at my senses again.
Whatever Gabriella is, she keeps it locked down tight.
But my Wolf knows it’s there. And so do I.
A second later, I find her.
Gabby.
My entire body settles. Just like that.
Fuck.
She’s walking maybe thirty yards ahead of me, holding Matteo’s hand. The boy is talking animatedly about something, his free arm waving around as he tells whatever story has his attention.
Gabriella smiles down at him.
Beautiful.
For one second, she looks happy.
Then her smile fades.
It happens so quickly I almost miss it.
But I don’t. Of course I fucking don’t.
I notice everything about her lately.
Her scent changes. Not dramatically. Just enough.
Worry.
Sadness.
Something heavier beneath both.
Monster whines.
Actually fucking whines.
My brow furrows.
“What?”
Sad.
“Yeah. I know.”
I don’t like it.
Not one fucking bit.
She’s shopping with her kid. She should be happy.
So why isn’t she?
I follow them. Not stalking. Observing.
There’s a difference.
Probably.
Gabriella doesn’t notice me.
That irritates the shit out of me too. Anyone could be behind her.
She checks on Matteo constantly, but she barely looks at her surroundings.
My mind immediately starts cataloging the problem.
Blind corners.
Crowds.
Multiple exits.
Too many places for someone to approach unseen.
I make a mental note to teach her about situational awareness.
Then I stop.
Not my fucking business.
Monster’s answer comes immediately.
Make it your business.
“No.”
Protect.
“She doesn’t need us protecting her.”
Liar.
My jaw clenches.
Fuck this Wolf.
Then Matteo stops. His entire little body practically vibrates as he stares toward a cookie kiosk. Even from here, I can hear him.
“Wow! Are those cookies? They’re huge!”
Gabriella smiles.
A real one this time.
And something inside my chest goes strangely warm.
The kid wants a cookie. I glance at Gabriella. Her hand slips toward her purse.
Stops. Just for a second.
Her smile never changes. But I see the hesitation.
Fuck.
Something clicks into place.
Two jobs.
Exhaustion.
The old car I’ve seen her driving.
The way she never orders food for herself at The Joint unless Frank tells her she can have something from the kitchen.
The money.
That’s why she needs the fucking money.
Monster growls.
Not at her.
At the whole goddamn world.
I look at Matteo again. Then at the cookies. An idea forms. Probably a terrible one.
Most of mine are.
But before I can talk myself out of it, I’m already moving toward them.
The bags in my hand suddenly don’t matter. The crowded mall doesn’t matter. Nothing does except the female whose scent has been driving me insane and the little boy staring at a cookie like it’s the greatest treasure he’s ever seen.
“You like cookies?” I ask.
Gabriella freezes.
Matteo turns.
And for the first time since I walked into this godforsaken mall?
Monster goes completely still.
Mine.