5. Wraith
WRAITH
Something was wrong.
I'd been at the clubhouse for two hours, dealing with transport schedules and legitimate business that couldn't wait.
Phoenix and Tank had reported Derek leaving the Mountain View Inn earlier, supposedly heading for the airport after our conversation.
The one where Viper made it crystal clear what would happen if he bothered Raven again.
But my gut churned as I approached my building. That same instinct that had saved my ass in Afghanistan now screamed danger.
I took the stairs silent and fast, hand moving to the piece at my back. The hallway was empty, my apartment door closed but not quite latched.
Through the door, I heard his voice. Reasonable. Calm. The tone predators used when they had their prey cornered.
"We're just talking, baby. No need to be dramatic."
Raven's response was too quiet to hear, but I caught the tremor in it. The barely controlled panic of someone trying not to escalate.
I pushed the door open, taking in everything in a tactical sweep. Derek had her in the corner by the window—my window, in my space—using his body to cage her without actually touching. Classic intimidation positioning. Making her feel trapped while maintaining plausible deniability.
Raven's back pressed against the wall, arms wrapped around herself, making herself smaller. But her eyes—when they found mine over Derek's shoulder—blazed with relief mixed with fury.
"Everything alright?" I kept my voice conversational, moving into the room with practiced ease.
Derek turned, designer suit impeccable despite the conversation he'd had with Viper earlier. "You must be the roommate. We were just discussing—"
"No." Raven's voice came stronger now that I was here. "We weren't discussing anything. You forced your way in.”
I moved between them, forcing Derek to step back. "No, it wasn't.
Derek's manufactured smile faltered. "I don't know what you're implying—"
"I'm not implying anything." I matched his reasonable tone. "I'm stating facts. You broke into my home. You're threatening my woman. And now you're going to leave."
"Your woman?" He laughed, the sound sharp and ugly. "She's nothing. A chunky little secretary who should be grateful for any attention—"
The words cut off as my hand closed around his throat. Not tight enough to crush his windpipe—yet—but enough to communicate intent.
"Let me explain something." My voice dropped to battlefield quiet. "Raven Beckett is under my protection. Mine. The club's. This entire town's. You've already been warned once today. This is your final chance to leave breathing."
His hands came up, clawing at my grip, but twenty years of military training against a soft trust fund baby wasn't even a contest. When he reached for something in his jacket—knife, based on the movement pattern—I released his throat only to drive my knee into his solar plexus.
He dropped, gasping. The knife clattered across my floor.
"Please—" he wheezed.
I grabbed his expensive collar, hauling him up and slamming him against the wall hard enough to crack the drywall. His nose broke under my fist—once for entering my home, twice for threatening Raven, three times because I enjoyed watching his entitled face crumble.
"Stop!" Raven's voice cut through the haze. "Wraith, enough. He's done."
I froze, fist drawn back for another strike. Derek sagged in my grip, blood streaming from his ruined nose, designer suit destroyed. One eye already swelling shut.
"He's done," she repeated, softer. "Let him go."
The gentleness in her voice reached through the rage. I released him, letting him slide down the wall into a pathetic heap.
"You're insane," he slurred through blood and what sounded like broken teeth. "I'll have you arrested—"
"No, you won't." I crouched beside him, voice conversational again.
"You'll leave Pike Creek. Tonight. And if you ever contact Raven again, if you even think about her, they'll never find your body.
The mountains here are vast, and I know every hidden canyon from my time training at Fort Harrison. Understand?"
He nodded frantically, scrambling toward the door on hands and knees. Pride forgotten, threats abandoned, just desperate to escape.
The door slammed behind him, leaving us in sudden silence.
Raven stood frozen against the wall where he'd trapped her, arms still wrapped around herself, trembling. Not from fear anymore—from rage and adrenaline crash and the aftermath of watching violence committed for her protection.
"I'm sorry you had to see—"
She launched herself at me.
Her mouth crashed into mine, desperate and hungry and alive. Hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer, needing proof we'd both survived. I tried to be gentle, aware of what she'd just experienced, but she wasn't having it.
"Don't." She pulled back just enough to speak. "Don't treat me like I'm fragile. Not now. Not after that."
"Raven—"
"You protected me." Her hands found the hem of my shirt, tugging upward. "You bled for me. Fought for me. Now I need you to claim me."
The shirt came off, her hands immediately finding the bruises Derek had managed to land in his pathetic attempts at defense. Her touch was reverent, tracing each mark like they were medals of honor.
"He hurt you."
"Worth it." I caught her hands, holding them against my chest so she could feel my heartbeat. "I'd take a thousand times worse to keep you safe."
"I know." She rose on her toes, mouth finding mine again. "That's why I love you."
The words hung between us, massive and irreversible.
"Say it again."
"I love you, Wraith Cooper. Loved you from that first moment in the clubhouse. Loved you through two weeks of torture. Love you covered in blood from defending me."
"I love you too." The admission ripped from somewhere deep, some place I'd locked away after Emma died. "Loved you before I knew I was allowed to. Will love you even if Blade kills me for it."
"He won't kill you." She smiled, slow and certain. "He might hurt you. But he won't kill what makes me happy."
I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carried her to my bedroom. This was it—the line we couldn't uncross. Once we did this, everything changed.
"No more running," she whispered against my mouth. "No more fighting this."
"No more," I agreed, laying her on my bed.
What followed was raw and hungry. Every wall we’d built between us cracked beneath the crush of mouths and the scrape of desperate hands. I dragged her closer, tasting the soft whimper against my lips, swallowing it down as if I could make her part of me.
I mapped every curve I’d dreamed about, my palms greedy as they cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples until they pebbled against my skin.
Her gasp broke into a moan when I trailed kisses down her throat, over the swell of her chest, and lower still.
She was already slick, heat and want spilling over my fingers before I even touched her with my mouth.
The moment my tongue found her, her back bowed, a strangled cry tearing from her throat.
I held her hips steady, licking and sucking until her thighs trembled around my shoulders.
“Please,” she begged, voice hoarse, nails digging into my scalp. “I need you inside me.”
I tore myself away reluctantly, crawling back up her body, covering her in kisses until our mouths met again. Her nails raked down my back, leaving trails of fire that only made me harder.
When I finally pushed into her, the sound she made undid me. A broken cry, her body tightening around me like she’d been waiting forever. I buried myself to the hilt, shuddering at the wet heat that clamped around me, her hips rising to take me deeper.
Her hand darted to the nightstand. She grabbed my dog tags, yanking the chain over her head so it swung between her breasts, glinting in the dim light.
“Mine,” she whispered, voice raw, eyes locked on mine.
“Yours,” I growled, snapping my hips into hers, pounding the promise into her with every thrust.
I set a hard rhythm, driving her into the mattress, the headboard rattling with the force of it.
Sweat slicked our skin, her breasts sliding against my chest, the tags jingling in time with each snap of my hips.
She wrapped her legs around me, heels biting into the backs of my thighs, urging me deeper.
“God, yes—don’t stop,” she gasped, nails clawing across my shoulders.
I slowed, grinding into her, teasing, drawing out a desperate whimper.
Then I pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, hard enough to make her cry out.
Her body convulsed around me, her inner walls clutching tight.
I knew she was close, could feel the way her breaths hitched, her whole body straining toward release.
“Say it,” I demanded against her mouth. “Whose are you?”
“Yours,” she sobbed, shattering beneath me. She clenched hard, her cries breaking on my name, and I lost it right after her. I drove into her one last time, spilling inside her with a curse, surrendering every ounce of control I’d been holding onto.
We collapsed together, panting, sweat cooling on our skin. My tags rested between her breasts, damp and shining, while her fingers traced patterns over the hair on my chest. I tangled my fingers in her hair, pulling her close, unwilling to let the world intrude on the only peace I’d known in years.
"What happens now?" she asked eventually.
"Now we figure out how to tell your brother without him committing murder."
"Maybe we don't tell him. Maybe we just disappear into the mountains, live off the grid, raise wolves or something."
I laughed, the sound surprising us both. "Tempting. But Blade would track us down. He's persistent like that."
"True." She shifted, looking up at me. "Are you ready for that? For what he'll do when he finds out?"
"I'm ready for anything if it means keeping you."
"Even losing your brotherhood?"