“Where’s Channing?” Kira asked as soon as she entered the kitchen the next morning after she’d showered and dressed.
Blaez had already left by the time she’d awakened, which hadn’t surprised her. What had been different this time was that he had left her a note telling her that her clothes and personal belongings had been moved into his room. She’d read the note a couple of times before finally getting out of bed and going to see if what he’d said was true.
She dropped the sheet and padded to the now-familiar bathroom. There were fluffy towels and more body washes in the stall, she noted as she leaned inside to turn the water on. Coconut-scented shampoo, cocoa and shea-butter body washes, the ones she’d selected from that online store when she was shopping with Channing, all lined up neatly in Blaez’s bathroom as well as the private one she had in the room where she’d been staying. She’d smiled at the sight, ignoring the sense of dread that was clinging to the back of her mind.
After the long steamy shower she’d found more of her things in one of Blaez’s bureaus. All of the items that she and Channing had ordered, blouses and slacks, jeans and dresses, were hanging neatly inside. There had been a flurry of questions crowding her mind by that time. About her future with Blaez—if there was one—and about what he’d told her last night. Some pieces to the puzzle of her life had appeared and she was anxious to try them out, to see what fit.
First up, she had some questions and she knew Channing would know the answers; after all, he’d been the one to mention something about “being Selected” the other night. She hadn’t caught the meaning then, not until Blaez’s announcement last night.
“It appears he’s not here,” Phelan told her.
Kira had then moved to the coffeepot, remembering where the filters were kept and putting on a pot of dark roast as she knew was both Blaez’s and Phelan’s preference. For herself, she liked a glass of orange juice first thing in the morning, so she went to the refrigerator remembering that Malec and Channing had been busy last night, which was most likely why Channing wasn’t already in here preparing breakfast himself. The meals that she’d prepared in the last couple of days they’d talked about first because Kira hadn’t wanted to intrude. Actually, she’d denied wanting to cook at all, but Channing—in his kind and almost unassuming way—had been steadily pushing her to do more around the house, to take more responsibilities … the alpha female responsibilities.
“What’s on the menu this morning?” Phelan asked from the doorway.
“I’m not sure, since I wasn’t made aware that I would be preparing it,” she replied as she poured herself a glass of juice.
“Something’s bothering you,” he said, surprising her even more than the fact that Channing wasn’t already down here cooking. “Thinking about how close it’s getting to the full moon and your pack eventually coming to make their move against us?”
Phelan was wearing all black today, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. The dark clothes added to the short black hair on his head and the expertly groomed low-cut beard gave him a very ominous look, a dangerous persona that reached to the crisp green of his eyes and the grim turn of his lips. The scar just beneath his left eye that looked like three jagged claw marks was prominent and scary, and yet Kira felt like that made him the most vulnerable of each of them.
“No, actually, I’m thinking about Blaez,” she said in an attempt to take that smug look off Phelan’s face.
It worked. At least momentarily, as Phelan blinked once, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.
Five days ago Kira would have felt defensive; she would have stood her stance prepared to do and say whatever she needed to prove her point or to make it known that she wasn’t afraid. This morning, she simply took a sip of her juice and continued to watch him.
“Do you know what it means to be Selected, Phelan? Have you ever heard of the process?”
His silence, coupled with the twitching of that rugged scar on his face, said he did, so before he could deny it or say something else designed to piss her off instead of answer her question, Kira continued.
“Blaez thinks I’ve been Selected.”
“For him?” Phelan asked, raising his brow.
“No,” she replied quietly, even though there was a part of her that wished like hell that was true.
“I know that you’re doing something to him,” Phelan countered. “He’s not the same since you’ve been here.”
That had her moving slowly, setting the glass down on the counter. “I’m not the same as when I first came here,” she said, because it was true. In the days that she’d been here, reading those books in the library about the lycan history and Blaez’s family, cooking and talking to Channing, training in the gym with Malec, Kira had begun to feel very differently about herself.
“What do you think is going to happen now? Are you planning to become the alpha female of this pack?”
Kira immediately shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
“Is it what you want? Are you going to stand there and tell me that you’re in love with him, that you want the same things he does, that this is where you think you belong? Because just a few days ago you were going around here checking every window and door, searching for a way out.”
“A captured wolf will try to escape,” she quipped.
He raised a brow. “Or it will kill everyone in its way to get what it wants.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“No,” he replied tightly. “But you are a Hunter.”
“You’re wrong. My father’s pack were Hunters. I am me, a female born into a society of which I did not create the rules, nor can I change them. I didn’t choose which pack to be born into,” she told him, anger slowly building.
“But you remained loyal to them. It was a choice.”
“Just as me leaving was a choice. Does it matter when we decide to make the right one?”
He paused then and Kira wondered if they’d made some sort of progress, crossed an invisible bridge of some sort, because the corner of his mouth lifted and she thought for one moment that maybe Phelan might just give her a smile.
“She asked you about being Selected, Phelan, not to badger her about the pack to which she was born,” Channing said, finally making his appearance in the kitchen, Malec not far behind him.
“You knew, didn’t you?” she said immediately. “That’s why you said what you did the other day. What I don’t understand is how? There’s no way you could have seen my mark.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Malec said, heading straight to the refrigerator to grab a bottled water. “We both saw your mark. Those yoga pants you wear don’t exactly keep you covered when you’re working out.”
“Or bending and reaching for things in the kitchen,” Channing added.
“So everybody knew but me?” she asked, looking from one lycan to another. They were certainly a hot bunch, but right not she wasn’t very impressed with them.
“It’s not for us to get involved in,” Phelan told them, looking pointedly at Channing and Malec and then finally to her. “Your status is your business. Just like Blaez’s is his.”
“But you’re his family,” she said.
“We’re his pack. We protect him and fight beside him; we do not interfere in what has been put on his shoulders to handle,” Phelan continued.
Channing set the cup of coffee he’d just fixed down so that it clinked against the marble countertop. “She asked a general question about the selection process. I can answer that.”
Kira sighed. “Then would you, please? I’m sick of being the only one not knowing what’s going on.”
“The Luna goddess Selects a mate for a lycan. It’s a match she believes will be powerful and will somehow aid the breed in their struggle. It is her way of arming us against Zeus and his unstable attitude. Selecteds are also given extra abilities, ones not found in the other lycans; this is what sets them apart from the rest. It’s what makes them so valuable to the mate they are promised to.”
When he was finished Kira was shaking her head. “I don’t have any special power.”
Malec looked at her then. “The Selected comes into their power the first full moon after their twenty-first birthday.”
“How old are you?” Channing asked.
Kira swallowed. She licked her lips and tried like hell not to twist her trembling fingers together, a sure sign of her nervousness.
“I turned twenty-one three months ago,” she replied softly.
Everyone in the room went quiet. Kira thought about what Blaez had said last night, what her mother had said before she died and what she’d just learned. She also thought about the things she’d been seeing, the weird feelings and—
“What matters right now is what’s for breakfast,” Phelan said loudly, as if he knew he was interrupting her whirling thoughts.
“That’s exactly what I was going to say,” Channing added, his voice suddenly even more cheerful than usual.
Malec chimed in, joining the let’s-talk-about-something-else bandwagon. “I could make smoothies for everyone. Fresh kale, flaxseed, mango, blueberries. It’ll be great to get the metabolism going.”
“And great to send me straight to the bathroom,” Phelan quipped. “No, thank you. I’m sure Kira can come up with something better.”
What she did was look at Phelan with surprise, then to Channing, who was smiling knowingly. She still had questions, but she respected the pack for pulling back after they figured they’d told her as much as they could. This was her journey, her destiny, as her mother had said. If this was where she was supposed to end up all along and if Blaez Trekas, with his painful past and bounty on his head, was the alpha she was meant to be with, she sure as hell wanted to know for sure. But not now, she decided after taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Now she had three hungry lycans looking to her for breakfast, or was it something more?
“How about pancakes?” she asked, letting her lips spread into a smile and for the moment pushing all her questions and concerns to the side.
The entire Selected legend and the fact that she was probably involved in it had come as a surprise to her, just as the fact that everyone in this house had known about it but her, and just when she thought she could not be shocked again so soon he caught her off guard one more time.
“Pancakes definitely sounds like a plan,” Blaez said, coming inside, moving past everyone until he was near the cabinet where the mugs were stored, taking down the taller, black one he always used.
* * *
He’d thought about skipping breakfast. As he’d worked out, bench-pressing just over two hundred pounds for the thirty-second time, he wondered if he could continue with this charade. This wasn’t who he was, it wasn’t what he’d wanted from his life, and here he was, sleeping with a woman in his bed and looking forward to eating the food she prepared for not only him but also his pack.
This was the life his parents had wanted for him, his mother especially. It was the one she’d talked about all the time.
“Supreme power deserves a partner, Blaez,” she’d told him when he was sixteen. “Someday you will find the one that matches every part of you. It won’t be because she agrees with all that you say or do, or that she even likes everything you say and do, but because she will understand you. She will know your heart and your destiny and she will agree to walk beside you, to combine the threads of her life with yours.”
He’d closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as the bar and weights slammed onto the stand once more. His biceps screamed with the stress of his hour-long workout and all that he’d put his body through in those sixty minutes. But Blaez did not get up; he’d lie there for endless moments still thinking, wondering, hating himself for the duplicity and blaming himself for having put these things in motion in the first place.
He should have left her in that forest.
But he’d known he couldn’t. Neither his body nor his mind was going to agree on that action. The connection between him and Kira had been too strong for him to ignore.
Now she was here, in his house, in his bed, in his soul. That was the clincher, Blaez thought. For all that he’d sworn against any intimate or emotional connections, Kira Radney had shown up and slipped seamlessly inside, threatening to undo that shield he’d worked so hard to erect. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?
Wiping sweat from his face, he’d decided to do what he always did, persevere. He’d gone to the shower, seen that she’d already been in and out. He touched the bottle of body spray, the one called Amber Romance, and replaced the top that had been sitting right beside it. Inhaling slowly, he let the warm scent permeate his senses, knowing that as soon as he was near her he would recall this very moment. When he was in the shower, beneath the hot spray of water, he’d reached for his soap, only to bump the bottle of coconut shampoo. He’d washed and stepped out, going to the bureau to retrieve his clothes for the day. Out of habit he reached for the door, pulling it open expecting to see the neat rows of jeans, shirts, suits, and ties. What he found were dresses and colorful blouses. What he scented was Kira.
He remembered waking in the middle of the night and moving everything from the room next door to his while she’d slept. It had been an impromptu action, one in the light of day he still could not explain. Closing that door quickly, he’d gone to the next bureau, found his clothes, and hastily chosen an outfit. Next, he was on his way down the steps when he heard the murmur of voices, the female one included. Then he’d heard something that he hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing before, her laughter. He had no idea who had said what; all he knew was that he loved the sound. It was genuine and full of life and flanked him like the warmth of the sun. He’d immediately headed for the kitchen, needing desperately to see her, to see that smile and how it might possibly light her hazel eyes. To see what she’d selected to wear from that bureau, how her curves looked in the clothes, how she moved, and to wonder again, Why now? Why her?
The sight of her amidst his pack was another sucker punch to his gut. He liked it, way too damned much. Malec had been closest to her, just lifting his cup to his lips, his stance casual. Channing was at the island, leaning over it, flipping through one of his many cookbooks. And Phelan, he was sitting at the table looking over at Kira with a smile. Phelan never smiled.
Blaez had tried to play it cool, to enter as if this were the easiest thing he’d ever done. Like this scene wasn’t some sort of déjà vu. Now, as they all sat at the table eating, talking about things like hiking up the mountain and possibly camping out for a couple of days, Kira eagerly agreeing with the excursion, he was back to contemplating again. No, it was more like fighting with what he knew he was capable of and what his mother, and now quite possibly the Luna goddess, believed to be true.
“What do you say, Blaez? Right after the full moon we pack up and head out?” Channing asked while at breakfast. “I’d have to do some massive shopping to stock up to be sure we have everything. What are we talking, a week maybe?”
“A week away sounds good,” Malec replied, finishing the last of his pancakes and turkey sausage.
“It depends,” had been Blaez’s reply. “We will wait and see how things play out.”
“You mean you’ll wait to see if my father’s pack makes an appearance on the full moon,” Kira said quietly.
Blaez wanted to kick himself as the light he’d been so enjoying seeing in her eyes this morning had quickly faded.
Phelan cleared his throat. “He’s right. We need to get that out of the way first. Things may change and they may not. We should be prepared either way.”
Malec nodded and Channing frowned, placing a hand over Kira’s. She pulled hers away slowly, standing to take her plate and glass to the sink.
“I’m gonna go for a run,” Malec said then. “Come with?”
Blaez knew what would happen next, even without him telling them to do so. Channing nodded, him and Malec taking their plates and putting them in the dishwasher. Phelan gave Blaez a look that said he wasn’t happy, which wasn’t really new. Blaez gave him the “who’s the alpha?” look and Phelan stood. He was just about to follow in the others’ footsteps and take his dishes over, but Kira was there, removing them from the table for him. He gave her another damned smile and Blaez felt his fists clenching. Phelan only frowned at him as he walked out of the kitchen, Channing and Malec following behind him.
Kira had crossed the room again, closing the dishwasher and grabbing the towel to wipe off the counter, when she said in a level tone, “Did my father not try to stop Dallas from trying to claim me because he knew I was Selected?”
Blaez rubbed a finger over his chin before letting his hands fall to his lap. “It’s possible.”
“Channing said that Selected females come into some type of special power on their twenty-first birthday.” She talked while continuing to drag that towel over the counter, even though it was already clean.
“That’s what the legend says. The Selected’s power combines with the alpha she is matched with to make them some sort of supercouple. It’s the gods interfering once again,” he said with more distaste then he’d meant to.
“Our lives are possible because of the gods,” she replied neutrally. “I used to think that was all unbelievable. How could we, our species, be here amidst this unknowing human one? Why weren’t we trapped in Arcadia? Why were we allowed to come here?”
When Blaez didn’t answer right away she continued, turning around to lean against the counter, hands grasping the sides of the marble slab.
“Humans keep dangerous animals locked in cages at the zoo. They go out and kill the others under the premise of keeping the population down. That’s how they rule,” she told him.
And because Blaez knew exactly where she was going with this analyzation, he added, “Zeus and the gods kill the ones they want out of their way and rule the others with ancient legends and powers instead. We’re not that different from them.”
She shook her head. “But we’re not the same either.”
“No. We’re not the same.”
“I want to know what happened to my mother and why. And if Penn is responsible I want him to pay,” she told Blaez.
“Because you’ve always thought he knew more than he told you,” Blaez said. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her that he believed Penn had Tora killed as well. Only in the early-morning hours had he thought he figured out why. Now he wondered if he should tell Kira without having any real proof, or wait until he had the truth, then present it to her. Either way she was going to be hurt and would possibly grieve her mother’s death again. Just as Blaez had done all those years ago. He wished he wouldn’t have to watch her go through that but didn’t know that there was a way to avoid it.
“Why don’t we go out for a run, clear our heads, and stop thinking about this for a while?” he offered, standing from his seat and walking over to her.
“Is this a test?” she asked, looking up at him skeptically.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Are you asking me if I want to go outside with you to see if I’ll try to run away?”
Blaez was quiet for a moment, taking the last step that closed the space between them. He reached up, touching a soft curl of hair that fell over her shoulder. “Channing took you virtual shopping, Malec’s been helping you work out, and Phelan, well, he’s not talking about you betraying us every five minutes anymore, so that’s his contribution. I haven’t given you anything.”
She looked absolutely flabbergasted at his words, which made two of them, because Blaez had no idea why he’d admitted that.
“I … I didn’t ask you for anything,” she replied.
How could he tell her that he felt guilty for everything he’d done to her since that very first moment? That if he could he’d give her the world to make it up to her, for giving her what he knew was false hope, he would.
“I know,” he said instead.
“I can’t do this hot and cold act anymore, Blaez. I don’t know for sure if I was Selected to be here or not. Or how I would know if I were. When I left Seattle a week ago I had no idea what I’d find or if I’d ever end up where I was supposed to be, and I certainly never imagined someone like you.” She took in a deep breath, her eyes closing momentarily before she sighed.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” was the only reply he could come up with.
“Then I guess you shouldn’t say anything.”
She turned away from him then and Blaez felt like a colossal ass. He was always in control; he knew what to say and what to do at any given moment. He was the fucking alpha! So why was he standing here so helplessly, trying to figure out how to tell this female that he’d messed up, not only for himself but also for both of them? There were too many things at play here, too many situations that were bigger than both of them and that prevented the fate of falling in love that his mother had predicted—and quite possibly the selection the Luna goddess had ordained—from coming true.
He didn’t know how to say it. How to tell Kira something he didn’t completely understand himself. So instead he touched her shoulders.
“Please do not give me another command,” she whispered. “Don’t make me do something else that will push us further in a direction you obviously do not want to go. Just don’t,” she said, a slight hitch in her voice. “Please.”
It was her safe word. He knew it and so did she. And she’d said it twice. Blaez inhaled deeply, let that breath out as slowly and as calmly as he could, before deciding to hell with it.
One arm snaked around her waist, turning her quickly to face him, while the other instantly went to the nape of her neck, tilting her head upward as he pulled her closer. She gasped, her lips parting, eyes staring up at him in question. Blaez didn’t have answers. He didn’t have a sustainable plan. And he didn’t give a damn. His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth without malice or afterthought, without anything but the pleasure and some other powerful emotion that had been rippling like a steady stream throughout his body. He kissed her with a fervor he’d never experienced, his eyes closing, mind wrapping around a scene he’d only ever dreamed of once before.
The dream where he was happy. Finally.