Silver Wolf Clan (9 page)

Morgan’s lips pursed and pink tinged her cheeks in the most adorable show of embarrassment he’d ever witnessed. “Well, yes, but I was just explaining to Lana—”

Lana gulped a bite. “Food comes from your booty but water comes from your penis. And apple juice.”

“Lana! Your Ring Pop is on the line, little miss.”

“Why? I don’t have a penis. He does because he’s a boy but I don’t because I’m a girl.” Lana shoveled another bite of noodles into her tiny maw. “That’s what you said, remember?”

“Oh my gosh,” Morgan whispered as she covered the rising color of her cheeks with her palms as if they would cool the warmth there.

The effort not to burst into laughter and encourage the child was gargantuan. It had been so long since he’d heard something so entertaining. And the grin stretching across his face felt good. He tried honestly to divert his attention to eating, but couldn’t keep his gaze from Morgan for long. Damn, she was beautiful. Her self-consciousness made him want to pull her close and give her other things to think about.

Concentrating on his dinner seemed like the wisest idea. If he stared at her lips for another second as she made apologies, he was going to lean over the table and kiss them.

The food was just as delicious as it smelled. With a lopsided grin, Lana took a bite every time he did as if it were a game. In the past year, the girl had changed and grown so much from the toddling two year old he remembered. He’d only caught a glimpse of her in the woods, but the night in late summer had been seared into his memory. Wolf had been conjured that night.

“Am I done?” Lana asked Morgan at last.

She made of show of examining her bowl, where only a few stray noodles remained. “You can be excused if you put your bowl in the sink.”

Lana crawled from her booster seat and stood on tiptoe as she launched the plastic bowl where it was supposed to go. Her tiny footsteps sounded as she ran for the living room, and moments later, the animated voice of a television cartoon spouted off alphabet letters.

“I can’t even believe how much you ate.” Morgan laughed. “Where do you put it all?”

Grinning, he explained why he needed so much food to keep his body fed. “Hope you weren’t planning on leftovers.”

“Nope, I’m glad you liked it. I was nervous,” she admitted. “I didn’t know if you had a specific diet or anything.”

“Nope. No special diet, but I’ll never be able to embrace vegetarianism.”

She became quiet and looked somewhere behind him with a faraway expression. “That…man. The one who attacked us last year. Why’d he do that?” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I mean, have you ever hurt anyone?”

Wolf let out a long low growl before Grey could stop himself. He squeezed his eyes closed and stood, took the dishes to the sink, his back to her. “Sorry,” he said softly, pressing his palms against the counter. “It’s just, when I think of telling you things about that part of me, I’m afraid you’ll run and I’ll never see you again.”

He turned and let her see his eyes. She deserved to see the truth of those words on his face as he spoke. She watched him quietly, and he leaned against the sink. “I don’t think I’ve ever hurt a person. The first six months, before I met the pack, I blacked out a lot and Changed uncontrollably. I had to camp at different parks, hoping I was far enough in so I wouldn’t run across people.”

He looked at the ceiling. How was he supposed to explain this to her? It was impossible to sugarcoat any of it. “I would hunt animals. I’d wake up, a man again, and animals would be near me. I’m not a man-eater. I’m not like the wolf that attacked you, but hunting when I Change helps me to keep some semblance of control. I Change more than I have to now. We really only need to a few times a month because our bodies demand it, but I Change at least twice a week because it makes Wolf happy. It doesn’t have to be on a full moon or anything. That’s a myth, but we like to because it is brighter for hunting at night. I don’t black out anymore because I’m taking care of my body. Keeping it fit, eating enough, Changing enough. It keeps me sane.”

She stayed quiet, so he turned and rinsed the dishes. When he returned to the table to grab her plate, she reached for his hand and held it.

“Come here,” she said, tugging him gently to the chair beside her. “I’ve seen the way people look at you. You scare them. Why?”

He gave a half shrug. “I don’t know. It’s just the way I came out, I guess.” Nope, he definitely wasn’t ready to tell her Wolf was king of the monsters.

“Why don’t you scare me?”

“I don’t know. I keep waiting for you to gather Lana and run away screaming. Maybe you just know I’d never hurt you or the child. I don’t have some of the answers you’re going to want from me,” he admitted.

“How’s your arm?”

“My arm?” he asked, looking down at his skin.

“I saw that man stab you with a knife last week. You were bleeding. I could see it even through your dark shirt.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” He lifted the sleeve of his fitted, red shirt, exposing the closed silver slash mark. “I heal quickly. What about you? You were bleeding last week, too. I could smell it.”

“You want to see?” she asked.

He’d studied every inch of skin exposed by her t-shirt. Maybe she’d cut her leg and her jeans hid it. Slowly, he nodded.

She twisted in the chair and lifted the hem of her pink cotton shirt until the bottom of an impressive patch of road rash peeked out. He sucked air in through his teeth and pulled the shirt up until the entirety of the healing wound was exposed. It ran from tailbone to shoulder blades. He touched the jagged edges gently with the tip of his finger. “How’d this happen?”

“He dragged me to that alley and my shirt came up. Yesterday was the first day it felt okay enough to wear a bra.” Her expression looked almost apologetic. “The black, lacy number is the loosest one I own.”

“I like that black, lacy number.” Especially in a wet, white, basically see through t-shirt, but she didn’t have to hear that part. He straightened her shirt, and she turned.

The color of deep roses rested in her cheeks and the corners of her mouth were turned up. “Why wouldn’t you look at me in the alley?”

“Because I don’t want this for you, Morgan. I’m a monster, and you deserve better than what I can give you and Lana. My life, what I am—it’s dangerous. I planned on staying away, watching but never talking to you. I don’t want to suck you into my hell. I want you to be happy. I want…hell, I don’t know what I want.” Frustrated, he rubbed his hands through his hair. Likely it now stood out in all directions.

“Grey? Grey, look at me,” she said. “None of this scares me. You can protect us. You’ve saved me twice now. Try for me, and if you can’t handle it, you can leave. I won’t make you stay out of guilt or anything, but there’s something between us, isn’t there? When you touch me—” A small shudder trembled through her. The unfinished words hung in the air between them.

He should’ve run. Thanked her for dinner, walked out the front door and left her to find someone normal. She should be with someone safe, with normal friends and family, and a good role model for Lana. He would ruin her, and this was the part where he should decide not to cross that line. There were moments in life where the path of fate would change with a pivotal decision made. This was his moment. His gut quickened with her closeness. Instead of running, the coward in him admitted the inescapable truth. “Yes, there’s something. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He pulled Morgan’s chair forward until her knees brushed between his thighs, touched the side of her face. Her dark, green eyes were bottomless and her skin was silk beneath his touch. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her, tenderly, questioning.
Is this okay?
he wordlessly asked with his lips.

Before long, however, Wolf basked in the touch of his mate and wanted more, as he so often did. Grey let out a soft growl, pulled back slightly, and then giving in, kissed her deeply, pulled her toward him until she was warm against his chest. Her heart beat so fast against him, and his head swam with her intoxicating scent. It was what a kiss was supposed to feel like. Like more wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.

She moaned softly. His ears tingled at the sound, and he stopped. He was pushing too hard, too fast, and hurting her. He eased back, ready with an apology, but she was flushed and bright eyed because she’d enjoyed kissing him, not because he’d hurt her. He grinned like an idiot.

After everything he’d admitted, she still wanted to be with him, to connect with him. Her giggle was elegant and tinkling and infectious. She looked like the cat that had caught the canary, and knowing he’d caused such an expression on her face had Wolf elated.

Two weeks passed in a breath. How could time go so fast after it had stalled for so long? Grey couldn’t get enough of Morgan. She was an all-consuming addiction he had no intention of curing. They spent almost every evening together, sometimes at his apartment, sometimes at her house. Grey wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone in an unsafe neighborhood all day, so it was just easier if he was around.

Dean had spoken the truth about Wolf’s overprotective tendencies. Instincts flooded him in a constant loop when he worried over Morgan and Lana. If he wanted to keep them, he’d have to find a balance.

During the day, Morgan worked on her website, filling orders, but Grey often came over to hang out with Lana, just to have an excuse to be around them. The little girl grew comfortable enough, she would crawl into his lap and snuggle while she watched cartoons. This tiny, fragile, baby human trusted him, trusted beast to keep her safe. The realization smoothed the scar tissue of his closed heart, like brush strokes on a canvas.

Wolf didn’t have any problem with Lana being another’s. He simply made a mental record that the scent was there, as he did with a hundred other things throughout the day. Three people standing at the mailbox, that black car had been parked there awhile, there was a nest of birds in the tree to the right, the child smelled like another. He scented it, noted it, and moved on. She was his to protect now.

Sunday morning, he was showered and anxious to get to Morgan’s house before the cold weather storm made its way into the city. A weatherman buzzed on the small television he had at volume one. He could hear the warning just fine.

A light knock sounded at the apartment door, and he stilled, listening. Lana quietly asked a question on the other side of the thin, wooden barrier. As he opened the door, Morgan gave him a worried, apologetic look.

He picked Lana up. “What’s wrong?” he asked automatically, as Morgan closed the door behind them.

“There’re police cars all down my street. I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t want to be there for any of that. Sorry for just coming over like this,” she said.

He relaxed and waved the apology off. “It’s a good surprise. You guys want hot chocolate? I got the kind with rainbow marshmallows.” He directed the last statement toward Lana, who’d turned out to be quite the marshmallow connoisseur.

“Yeah!” Lana yelled as he tossed her up and caught her.

He tickled her and set her on the couch then strode to Morgan and pressed his forehead against hers. Leaning forward, he tasted her lips, drank in the rightness of her body against his, warm, soft, and inviting. She pulled her winter gloves off and hugged him tightly around the neck. A piece of him which had been strung so tight in her absence relaxed. His arms wrapped easily all the way around her waist. Her petite size only made him more protective.

“I feel safe with you, Grey,” she said quietly.

He would explode into a thousand tiny pieces if she kept saying things like that. A half growl of contentment came from deep in his chest, and he pulled her closer. “You are.”

Lana bounced across the Murphy bed while he set to work making the hot chocolate in a pan on the stove. Morgan had showed him how to make it from scratch, and now it was his preference.
Knock, knock, knock
sounded against the door. Probably the lady from downstairs, there to remind him she could hear the squeaking bed and to pipe down. Apparently the old bat heard everything. “She must be a werewolf,” Grey grumbled as he opened the door.

Alexis stood there holding an enormous, gaudy, silver and green wrapped present, wearing an expectant smile. Shit. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

She lifted her chin primly. “Can I come in?”

“No,” he said flatly as she shoved her way inside. Morgan would probably frown upon him heftily throwing Alexis out the door and punting her present down a couple flights of stairs.

Alexis froze at the scene in his living room. Lana still jumped wildly on the bed, and Morgan, who’d been trying to wrestle the child out of her pink kitty mittens, looked questioningly from Alexis to him.

The intruder set the present on the coffee table and rested clenched fists upon her hips. “Wow, Grey, you have quite the happy little family in here. This must be your new bitch,” she said, glaring at Morgan, then held out a hand and said, “Nice to meet you. I’m his old bitch, Alexis.”

A snarl ripped through him. “You don’t talk to her like that. Get out.” His voice sounded more wolf than man. As he placed himself between Alexis and Morgan, Lana jumped off the bed and ran, hid behind his leg. She peeked around him with wide, gray eyes at the unwelcome newcomer.

Alexis shrugged and made her way out. “So why haven’t you brought them around to meet everyone? Are you ashamed of your humans, Grey?” she said, and with a final smirk at Morgan. The slamming of the door was so forceful it made Lana jump.

After he’d meticulously locked the door behind her, he leaned his forehead against its cold, chipped paint. Nothing in him wanted to see the hurt in Morgan’s face.

When he turned, devastation indeed swam in the green pools of her eyes. Leave it to Alexis to get under her skin the first thirty seconds of introductions. Lana was perfectly still, big gray eyes glistening. Her bottom lip poked out as if she would burst into tears at any second. Had he scared the child?

“Buddy, it’s okay,” he crooned, pulling the little girl gently into his arms and rocking her. “I’d never hurt you. Don’t be scared.” Lana put her little arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, sniffling and whimpering.