for you.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “No, I’m not sorry. I’m glad I came here. But it hurts me to see you hurting.”
“I know, Jack.” She smiled up at him through her tears. “Why don’t we share that cup of coffee you’ve got there and talk about it?”
“I’d like that.” He handed over the cup. “We haven’t said the word out loud. Not to each other.”
“Mate?” she replied with a wry smile over the cup.
“Yeah.” He didn’t smile back. “It’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”
“Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a big deal.” There was no arrogance to her voice, just a simple resignation.
“I noticed.”
“I guess you did.” She handed the cup back to him, her fingers lightly brushing his, sending a whisper of warmth up his spine.
“Is it a problem, for you to be here, at the inn?”
“You mean because I’m no longer fucking the manager?” She laughed, the bitterness of her laughter belying the deliberate crudeness of her words. “No, it’s not a problem. I’ve lived here with Sara for five years, and she’s my best friend. She’s hardly going to kick me out of her life because I’m not sleeping with her. She’s not like that.”
“Well, I guess I did mean something like that, as callous as it sounds, but I didn’t think she was like that. Where are you going to live now?” he asked.
A very animal part of him wanted to drag her upstairs to the pink gingham room and mark her and then drag her back to Maryland with him forever and not look back, yet he knew that was an impossibility. He would not claim her until he found a way to do so without disobeying his Alpha—Jack was a veteran, trained by the US Navy, and a badass Were to boot. Patrick wouldn’t stand a chance, and he couldn’t kill his brother. He gestured for her to sit and then joined her on the steps.
“I’ll go to my Alpha. I’ll stay at the compound—there is always a place for me there.”
“Tell me about her.” He genuinely wanted to know about this woman who was Alpha of a pack of females.
“Monica was the mate of an Alpha wolf out west somewhere, a long time ago. Longer than you or I have been alive. He was killed, and his brother ascended. She was ghost-wolf—can you imagine how powerful she must have been for the mate bond not to take her when her mate, her Alpha, was killed? Sara came to her and told her to come east, that when her wolf returned from its spirit walk, she would know her true path. Since then, she has taken in all ghost-wolves who come to her. We provide protection while they mourn their mates until their wolves return—you’ve met Ellen, so you understand. We also take in wolves like myself or Kathy, who would have been killed or ostracized if born to another pack.” Here, Bianca took a long deep breath, as if deciding whether or not to continue.
“Sara came to my mother when she was pregnant, told her I was an albino, and urged her to come to Monica. She did, and in Monica’s pack, I’m treated no differently than any other wolf. I’ve risen in the ranks by virtue of my size, strength, and abilities, and the color of my fur doesn’t hinder me. Monica is efficient and practical, and intolerance is not accepted among Amazons. She has given me leave to deal with my detractors as I see fit. I’ve been challenged—a lot. I’ve been blooded a few times, but I’ve never lost a fight.”
Jack considered her words. She’d killed other wolves. So had he, for that matter. It was part of pack dynamics, and you didn’t rise to the top without taking your hits. He had always separated himself into his military mode when fighting, but she was different—he sensed a street-fighter hovering beneath her surface. He didn’t know whether that turned him on or scared the hell out of him.
“How old is Monica?” he asked. “And is the pack all females?”
“Hard to say. You know how looks can be deceiving. I believe she’s about two hundred
“I know, Jack.” She smiled up at him through her tears. “Why don’t we share that cup of coffee you’ve got there and talk about it?”
“I’d like that.” He handed over the cup. “We haven’t said the word out loud. Not to each other.”
“Mate?” she replied with a wry smile over the cup.
“Yeah.” He didn’t smile back. “It’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”
“Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a big deal.” There was no arrogance to her voice, just a simple resignation.
“I noticed.”
“I guess you did.” She handed the cup back to him, her fingers lightly brushing his, sending a whisper of warmth up his spine.
“Is it a problem, for you to be here, at the inn?”
“You mean because I’m no longer fucking the manager?” She laughed, the bitterness of her laughter belying the deliberate crudeness of her words. “No, it’s not a problem. I’ve lived here with Sara for five years, and she’s my best friend. She’s hardly going to kick me out of her life because I’m not sleeping with her. She’s not like that.”
“Well, I guess I did mean something like that, as callous as it sounds, but I didn’t think she was like that. Where are you going to live now?” he asked.
A very animal part of him wanted to drag her upstairs to the pink gingham room and mark her and then drag her back to Maryland with him forever and not look back, yet he knew that was an impossibility. He would not claim her until he found a way to do so without disobeying his Alpha—Jack was a veteran, trained by the US Navy, and a badass Were to boot. Patrick wouldn’t stand a chance, and he couldn’t kill his brother. He gestured for her to sit and then joined her on the steps.
“I’ll go to my Alpha. I’ll stay at the compound—there is always a place for me there.”
“Tell me about her.” He genuinely wanted to know about this woman who was Alpha of a pack of females.
“Monica was the mate of an Alpha wolf out west somewhere, a long time ago. Longer than you or I have been alive. He was killed, and his brother ascended. She was ghost-wolf—can you imagine how powerful she must have been for the mate bond not to take her when her mate, her Alpha, was killed? Sara came to her and told her to come east, that when her wolf returned from its spirit walk, she would know her true path. Since then, she has taken in all ghost-wolves who come to her. We provide protection while they mourn their mates until their wolves return—you’ve met Ellen, so you understand. We also take in wolves like myself or Kathy, who would have been killed or ostracized if born to another pack.” Here, Bianca took a long deep breath, as if deciding whether or not to continue.
“Sara came to my mother when she was pregnant, told her I was an albino, and urged her to come to Monica. She did, and in Monica’s pack, I’m treated no differently than any other wolf. I’ve risen in the ranks by virtue of my size, strength, and abilities, and the color of my fur doesn’t hinder me. Monica is efficient and practical, and intolerance is not accepted among Amazons. She has given me leave to deal with my detractors as I see fit. I’ve been challenged—a lot. I’ve been blooded a few times, but I’ve never lost a fight.”
Jack considered her words. She’d killed other wolves. So had he, for that matter. It was part of pack dynamics, and you didn’t rise to the top without taking your hits. He had always separated himself into his military mode when fighting, but she was different—he sensed a street-fighter hovering beneath her surface. He didn’t know whether that turned him on or scared the hell out of him.
“How old is Monica?” he asked. “And is the pack all females?”
“Hard to say. You know how looks can be deceiving. I believe she’s about two hundred
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