Marked

Chapter Ten

A soft knock roused Jackson from a deep slumber. He opened his eyes, focusing on the ceiling. Chloe stirred, moaning softly into his chest. She shifted closer to his side. Contentedness swept over him. His female not only met his expectations, she exceeded them. Tonight they’d officially announce their mating. Everyone would know she belonged to him. He’d protect, watch over and love her for the rest of his life.

The soft rapping came again—from the front door.

With a muffled curse he moved away from his mate, taking care to rest her head on the pillows. As he hoped, she didn’t wake. Her chest rose and fell, a quiet sigh passing her lips. He climbed off the bed, retrieved his jeans and jerked them on. He didn’t bother with his shirt, shoes or socks. Only one person knew where he was and had the balls to interrupt him this early in the morning.

Whatever Declan had to say had better be fucking important.

He descended the stairs, moving as quietly as possible, and strode to the door. As he expected, Declan was waiting for him on the other side. What he didn’t anticipate was how haggard the Beta appeared. He hadn’t showered or shaved, wearing the same clothing from the evening before. His hair was mussed and his T-shirt was wrinkled. There was a glimmer in his eyes that Jackson couldn’t put his finger on.

“We need to talk,” Declan said and started to walk inside.

Jackson stopped the man with a hand on his chest. “Outside. Chloe’s resting.”

Instead of bestowing a smart remark or rebuff, Declan pivoted and returned to the porch. Jackson frowned, wondering what had the Beta riled up. Certainly his mating had shaken things up but thus far Declan had taken everything in stride. Something must have happened to make him like this. In fact, Jackson wouldn’t recall a time that his Beta had seemed so stressed.

Shaking off the chilly morning air as he closed the door, Jackson asked, “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Fucking fate, that’s what,” Declan responded, though he sounded tired not angry. Looking Jackson in the eye, he explained, “Apparently I’m mated to a human—your mate’s fucking best friend.”

His ears had to be deceiving him. Declan did not just say he was mated to Chloe’s childhood friend. The idea alone screamed clusterfuck of epic proportions.

“Say again?”

The Beta’s eyes turned gold. “You heard me.”

“You met a couple of days ago and you didn’t mention anything about it.” As soon as Jackson spoke, he realized Declan hadn’t said anything either way. Perhaps he had known but hadn’t felt inclined to share. “Why’s that?”

“Because I didn’t think it was possible,” Declan grumbled. “I was wrong.”

The vague response created more questions than answers. “Care to explain?”

“I was attracted to the female but I assumed there was nothing more to it. Since I haven’t exactly had time to get laid, I blew it off as pent-up steam. We know how rare it is for a wolf to mate with a human.”

More than rare. The occurrence was almost unheard of. It was the primary reason Jackson hadn’t considered Chloe might be part human before they met in the flesh. Mating with humans came with all sorts of problems.

“Are you certain?”

“I’m positive. We paid each other a visit in our dreams last night.”

Well hell. No wonder Declan looked like shit. Dreamsharing could be intense, especially the first time. Jackson summoned up the memory of the female who’d looked like she wanted to bust his balls when Chloe had introduced them.

“You’re sure it’s Rachel?”

“I’m sure.” Declan ran his fingers through his hair. “Since we’ve met and a connection was established, I was able to see her face.”

“Did she know the dream was being shared?” Chloe hadn’t had time to discuss important details about their mating—at least he didn’t think she had—with her friend. “Do you think she understands what it means?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t think about discussing the topic with her? Jesus, Declan. Tell me you didn’t let your dick cloud your judgment. The first experience with your female can make or break a mating. If you started things off on the wrong foot, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the Beta snarled, flashing his pointed canines. “She wouldn’t let me get anywhere near her, since you’re so goddamn curious. Each time I got close she’d skip to another place in her mind. It was like she could change her dreams at will. I spent the majority of the night trying to keep up.” Declan lowered his hand, shaking his head. “I need your permission to initiate her into the pack.”

“Shit.”

If he gave his blessing as Alpha, Declan would have full rights to Rachel. No one could interfere—including Chloe. His female would kill him if he allowed a werewolf male to stake a claim to and change her friend—especially if Rachel wasn’t given a choice. It wasn’t unheard of for a male to bite a woman when she denied a mating bond. Once his saliva entered her bloodstream, the change would start. The connection a human made with their wolven half was absolute.

Even if Rachel hated Declan, the wolf inside her wouldn’t turn him away.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” It wasn’t the best way to establish a mating. If his Beta wasn’t careful he could end up with a mate who hated him. “Have you considered doing this the human way?”

Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

Answering questions with questions always annoyed him but he was willing to let his pack mate slide. “Chloe won’t be happy.”

Declan snorted. “Neither will Just Rachel. I shouldn’t have given you shit about having your hands full with your mate.”

“Just Rachel?”

“Long story. Don’t worry about it.” Declan lifted his shoulders, standing straight. “Do I have your permission? I can proceed without it, but I’d rather not.”

There was the bitch of it. Declan could proceed without asking. If necessary he could leave the pack, claim and change his female and spread the word that he was searching for a place to call home. The Beta had a solid reputation as both a man and a wolf. He wouldn’t have a problem finding another pack. Human police wouldn’t get involved, not in matters like these. It was too dangerous—too personal. Although they liked to believe they were in control, when it came to pack matters they stayed the fuck out of Dodge.

“I’ll agree, but there are conditions.” After Declan nodded Jackson said, “You’ll need to take a leave of absence during Rachel’s first moon. I don’t want to fight with my mate about what you’ve done or what it means for her friend. I expect our involvement to be minimal.”

Declan considered the words and slowly nodded. “What else?”

“You need to prepare a pack member to take your place while you’re gone.”

“I can do that.”

Releasing a deep breath, Jackson finished, “And I’d like to ask that you try to do this properly, without changing her. Give Rachel a chance to accept you as she is. I owe Chloe that much.”

“How long?”

“A month.”

If Rachel didn’t accept his advances within a month, Declan’s bite to get the process started would ensure she had thirty days to deal with the changes in her body before her first full moon. He hoped to hell that it didn’t come down to that. Chloe would be pissed, Rachel would be out for blood and Jackson would be smack dab in the fucking middle.

“Starting today?” Declan clarified.

Time to put a nail in the coffin. “Starting today.”

“Done.”

Declan extended his hand and Jackson accepted it.

A firm shake sealed the deal.

There was no going back.

Normally Jackson wouldn’t have felt bad about a human who found him or herself mated to a werewolf. Circumstances had changed his reasoning. Rachel—from what he gathered—had a few issues to sort through. The woman hadn’t been friendly, bordering on hostile. Chloe had done her best to alleviate the tension but he’d known Rachel had complied only to appease her friend, not because she’d wanted to.

Jackson let go and took a step back. “Don’t breathe a word of this to the pack. When you arrange a replacement, you can say you’re doing some work out of state. No one needs details. If Chloe finds out what you’re up to she’ll tell Rachel. I won’t come between them.”

“I’ll talk to Shane after the hunt.”

Shane? Now that was news.

Declan was friendly with the newest member of the pack but he had never seemed overly fond of Jackson’s choice to take Shane into their fold. Jackson had known Shane was powerful enough to be a Beta or Alpha. Why he hadn’t chosen that path was anyone’s guess. The male didn’t like to discuss his past. Despite that, Jackson wanted to give the rogue a chance. Anyone who went from being alone to searching for a pack couldn’t be all bad.

“Shane’s a solid choice. He’s not likely to talk about what’s going on. The last thing we need in the pack is gossip.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

The door cracked open and Chloe peeked outside. She’d thrown on his T-shirt. Her hair was tangled, her cheeks rosy from sleep. When she saw Declan her face turned a tempting shade of red.

“I thought I heard voices,” she explained in a rush, keeping the door from revealing too much of her body. “I’ll go back inside and let you two talk.”

Declan gave her a sideways grin. “We’re done. He’s all yours.”

Jackson wanted to laugh when her cheeks became redder. She probably thought Declan knew what he’d said to her the night before. Standing so Declan’s view of Chloe was obstructed, Jackson said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, you will.”

Declan swept down the porch, retrieved a small satchel he’d placed on the bottom step and started walking down the driveway. Jackson knew the Beta would find a safe spot, shuck the clothes and return to from where he’d come from. Most werewolves turned to their beast when they needed to unwind. Declan was no different. Hopefully the shift and a hard run would clear his head and put things in perspective. He had a feeling Rachel would have Declan’s ass if he came at her looking like a shaggy, sleep-deprived hobbit.

Son of a bitch.

Declan had come right up to his porch and Jackson hadn’t known his pack mate was anywhere nearby until he’d heard the knock at the door. He’d let his guard slip, endangering his mate. After tonight he’d have to amp up security. His home had a reliable alarm system. The cabin needed one too.

And he wouldn’t keep the location secret any longer.

He and the pack were Chloe’s first line of defense. They had to know where to find her if he expected them to protect her with their lives.

Whipping around, he came chest to chest with his female. She looked delectable in the morning, all soft and sweet. He’d woken her through the night to take her again and again, needing the closeness, knowing the following night they’d cement their union. She hadn’t been shy or tentative, meeting his desire with a passion of her own.

“What did he want?” she asked, her lips slightly swollen from his kisses.

He didn’t want to lie but he couldn’t be entirely honest either. “Pack business. He’ll meet us later tonight.”

She moved aside and opened the door when he stepped forward. He breezed past the threshold, aware of the lingering scent of sex wafting through the cabin. Despite knowing he couldn’t share the truth with his mate, he felt a wrenching sense of guilt. Their mating wasn’t what it should have been. They’d been through enough without adding Declan and Rachel to mix. He’d hoped that after tonight his problems would be solved.

You can give up that hope. No more problems? That would be too fucking easy.

Resolute and unable to do anything else, he took his mate’s hand and guided her to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Like it or not, once Chloe learned what was what, she’d grind his balls into guacamole.

Chloe plopped onto the seat Jackson guided her to, frowning when he turned away without saying a word. Something was bothering him but he wasn’t spilling the beans. She didn’t want to push but she didn’t like being on the outside looking in either. They’d formed a bond the night before, her wolf merging with his. She wasn’t going to let him pull away from her when she needed him most.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Not particularly,” he replied and reached for a pan hanging from a rack bolted to the ceiling. “If at all possible I’d like to enjoy the morning.” After he had the object in hand, he glanced at her. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You have my undivided attention.”

“All right.” The redirection actually worked for her. There were a lot of things she wanted to know. She could inquire about Declan’s visit later. “How about you tell me how you’re going to convince Gramps to come to the hunt? You’ll be lucky to get him off his property. He doesn’t like to travel.”

“Is that so?” Jackson turned on the stove and walked to the fridge.

“He’s handy with guns for a reason,” she murmured.

Jackson lifted his head over the door and stared at her, a question in his gaze. She took her time responding, aware it would make her family sound like hermits.

“Grams tends a garden and cans for the winter. Gramps hunts so we have meat to freeze. They’ll go into town to get the things we need, but it’s rare. After Mom died they swore they wouldn’t interact with anyone outside of the family unless it was absolutely necessary. Aside from Rachel, we didn’t have many visitors.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded, laughing at his shock. “As a heart attack.”

“But they let you attend public school,” he clarified, cautious as he broached the subject. “They sent you to college.”

“They did, but only under the agreement that if anything went wrong I’d consent to being home-schooled. One slip and my entire life would change. As you can probably imagine, if I had a bad day I knew not to tell them about it.”

“You were just a kid.” He looked and sounded pissed off. “Who did you talk to? Where did you go when you needed advice?”

“Rachel,” she answered simply. “She stayed at our house most of the time. After we met I always had someone to talk to.”

“What about her family?”

Uneasiness made Chloe backpedal. Talking about her life was one thing. Rachel’s toxic family history was off-limits. “What about them?”

“If you spent that much time with their daughter, weren’t they weren’t close to your grandparents?”

Oh crud. Talk about awkward.

After Rachel’s father had died her mother had gone on a bender that turned into a lifestyle. Mrs. Gentry wasn’t close to anyone, including her daughter. She preferred to frequent Jasper’s Lounge, taking advantage of happy hour, free drinks and nameless one-night stands.

“Not really,” she responded carefully. “Rachel’s dad passed away when we were in elementary school. Her mom worked a lot.”

Jackson wasn’t going to drop the subject. He closed refrigerator and reclined against counter. “What kind of work?”

Think, think, think.

Rachel would kill her if she told Jackson the truth.

“This and that.” She turned her head, looking toward the living room, gazing at the window.

Cindy Gentry was a horrible woman who used everyone in her life—including her child—to get ahead. Once the social security checks started rolling in for Rachel after her father’s loss, Cindy had taken it as a sign she didn’t need to work unless she wanted to. The wretched woman stayed out most nights, drinking away her daughter’s money. Her best friend—heartbroken over her father and devastated by the actions of her mother—had been raising herself since the tender age of nine.

“Chloe?”

Steeling herself, she returned her attention to Jackson. “Yeah?”

For a split-second she worried he was going to push the issue.

“Never mind,” he said softly. “Let’s get you some food.” He pushed away from the counter and opened the fridge. “I thought we’d drive over to speak with your grandfather this morning. I know he’ll be relieved to see you, and it’s probably best to talk to him face-to-face.”

“So you can convince him to tag along tonight?”

“Convincing won’t be necessary.”

He obviously didn’t know her grandfather as well as he thought. “Oh really? Do you think you can waltz in, tell him what you want and he’ll be happy to help?”

“He’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. Besides,” Jackson glanced at her over the door, “I’m pretty sure he knows what’s coming. Before you joined us in the office I asked Fletcher what he’d do if he ever saw your father again.”

Gramps would kill the asshole. “I’m guessing it wasn’t good.”

“It works for me.” Jackson shrugged, the muscles in his arms bunching as they flexed. “If he wants to take another shot at Gavin, I’m all for it.”

Seconds passed as she waited for him to indicate he was joking. He didn’t crack a smile, gazing in her direction, his attention riveted to her face.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he tossed her words back at her with a playful grin.

“What if he’s hurt? He can’t stand up to a group of werewolves!”

“Chloe.” Jackson’s good humor receded. “Your grandfather has every right to address the male who impregnated his daughter and left her and his unborn child. It doesn’t matter that he’s human. He’s entitled to justice. What Gavin did violates everything wolves value and protect. Our children are the key to our future. When his pack discovers what he did he’ll be lucky if he’s still Alpha.” Obviously trying to calm her, he added, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to unload Fletcher’s weapon before we go.”

“That’s a small amount of comfort.” Knowing Gramps, he’d carry ammo in his pockets.

“Then how’s this? He’ll have the backing of the pack. No one will interfere. They know better.”

“Just like the females won’t interfere when you announce our mating?” She waited for an answer as she met his eyes, staring at him across the distance. The tic in his jaw and brightening of his irises were the only indication he was angry.

“That’s different.”

“I don’t see how.” Danger equaled danger.

“They won’t challenge you because I’m going to tell them what to expect if they win.” His voice deepened but otherwise he appeared completely calm. “Mating me will be the worst mistake any of them will ever make. I’ll make their existence a living hell.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“I’ve found my female.” His gaze swept over her. The grin that appeared on his face created butterflies in her tummy. “I’ll have no other.”

The man was part Neanderthal. Good thing she didn’t want him any other way. “You have a solution for everything, don’t you?”

“It’s part of the job.” Dipping his head, he glanced inside the refrigerator. “Damn it,” he snapped, closing the door and standing to open the freezer. “I knew I should have kept groceries at the cabin. This is fucking pitiful.”

Sliding from her stool, she walked toward him. Knowing he was so focused on her—that he wanted to feed and care for her—was a stark reminder that he’d been through hell the past couple of days. After she’d woken and went into the bathroom, she’d studied the mark on her shoulder—his mark. Not everything was about her and her family, big decisions concerned him too. If Jackson was willing to stand at her grandfather’s side when he faced Gavin, she’d trust him to take care of the aging yet indomitable man.

Speaking of age…

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rose to her tiptoes, resting her head on his shoulder. She took a look into the freezer. There wasn’t much in the way of actual food, just a couple of Hungry-Man dinners.

“How old are you anyway?”

“I suppose I can tell you. It’s too late to trade me in for a newer model.” He shifted a few of the dinners around. “I turned one hundred and fourteen last month.”

One hundred and fourteen? “Bullshit.”

“Nope.” He kept sorting, looking for a pot of gold at the end of a crappy rainbow. “You’re mated to an old man.”

“How about the pizza?” she offered, pointing at the enormous box. “I’ve heard it’s the breakfast of champions.”

“Breakfast of champions, my ass,” Jackson grumbled and pulled out the frozen food. “I should be shot for feeding you shit like this.”

“Don’t worry. You can make it up to me later,” she whispered, tilting her head to skim her lips over his neck, squeezing the arms locked around his midsection.

“Hmm.” He placed his free hand over her interlocked fingers and shuffled to the stove. He let her go only long enough to remove the pizza from the box, turn on the oven and place it inside. After he set the alarm near the dials he disentangled her arms, spun her around and gazed down.

Oh boy.

That look was in his eyes—the one that warned her he wanted to tear off her clothes and do all sorts of naughty things to her body.

“You’re damn right I’ll make it up to you.” One harsh yank forced her against his body. He wrapped an arm around her waist, cupped her ass and lifted her from the ground. “Starting now.”

“Bring it on, old man.”

He crossed to the counter, his movements as smooth as silk. She shivered when her ass made contact with the chilly surface, aware of how thin her panties were against the ceramic. Jackson parted her thighs with his hips, his fingers drifting around her waist. She raised her pelvis and he tugged at the scrap of lace guarding her sex, drawing the material down her legs. He dropped her panties, sank to his knees and pulled her forward. Her buttocks balanced on the edge of the counter, his mouth hovering inches from her mound.

Slowly he peered up, the heat in his stare so palpable it burned. “I’m not coming up until that alarm goes off. First I’ll pleasure you, then I’ll feed you. Afterward we’ll take things upstairs and finish what I started. I’ll show you just how young this old man can be.”

She gasped for air, dragging a greedy breath into her lungs. Then his face descended, his tongue slipped over her hot, slick flesh and she was lost in the most fantastically wicked of ways.

Who needed food?

This was heaven.

* * * * *

Jackson ran a finger along the surface of the water, engrossed in the woman who reclined in the tub, closed her eyes and sighed blissfully with a sated smile on her face. Despite his promise to take Chloe into the bedroom after breakfast, he’d decided to introduce her to his shower instead. He’d taken her against the wall, thrusting into her hard and fast, driven by her soft cries and whimpers. If she’d had any complaints she didn’t voice them, clawing at his back as she came, urging him to achieve his own release.

Afterward he’d drawn a bath, wanting her to relax and unwind.

Now he simply studied her. Enjoying the shared moment.

Her lids cracked open, revealing a flash of her green irises. When she saw him staring she grinned. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he answered truthfully and brought his fingers to her knee.

She laughed, the sound alluring and husky. “Is this where you give me a cheesy line about how I must be tired because I’ve been running through your head all day?”

“Afraid not,” he murmured, stroking her skin.

“Good.” She flicked her hand, sending beads of water over his chest. “I don’t like Velveeta.”

He considered returning her playful splash with one of his own.

Clever little female. “Just one more thing we have in common.”

“Why bother with dairy products when you can have the whole cow?” Her hand drifted over his, her wet skin soft and slippery from the hot water. “I’m assuming those are what you hunt if deer are scarce?”

The slight catch in her voice took him from relaxed to concerned. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” Now was the perfect time to clear the air. “Normally when wolves announce a mating the packs hunt in celebration. In this circumstance, I think it’s best if we do things differently.”

Large emerald orbs focused on him. “Define differently.”

“After we address the packs, we’re leaving.”

“Why?” He could see the confusion and fear in her gaze. “Are you worried something will go wrong?”

“No. I’m not worried about that.” Taking his hand from her knee, he slid closer to the tub. Extending his hand, he cupped her chin. “I want to enjoy the first moon with you and no one else. The night is a beautiful time and I want to show it to you. The pack can keep up pretenses after we leave. Besides, if we’re not alone we can’t play. And I can’t tell you how much I want to play with you, baby.”

Her brows softened, relief evident in her expressive face. “What kind of game?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” His remark was greeted with a scowl. He laughed, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “You’ll like it. I give you my word.”

It didn’t take much to close the distance. His mouth brushed hers, sliding from side to side. She released a soft sigh, her lips parting in welcome. He slid his tongue into the crevice, tasting her sweetness. His body responded despite their earlier interlude. It was clear he couldn’t get enough of this woman. He felt the jerk of his quickly swelling cock, the erratic beating of his heart. He wanted to groan when she pulled away.

“You’d better get dressed. Otherwise I’ll be tempted to take this to the bedroom.” Her voice was just as deep and raspy as his. He felt her tremble at his touch. “As much as I’d like to keep you naked all day, I don’t think Gramps would approve of you visiting his home in your birthday suit.”

“Do you really care what he thinks?” A stupid taunt but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing Chloe relaxed and comfortable in her own skin was something he wanted more of.

“Do you think I’d have asked you to cover that amazing body of yours if I didn’t?” she countered with a smile.

“Maybe you just don’t want other women to see me naked.”

This time when she met his gaze she was deadly serious. “Only as much as you want other men to see me in the buff.”

Damn. When he thought it was safe to push, she pushed right back.

He hadn’t counted on how furious the notion made him. Werewolves didn’t blink at nudity. It was second nature to be comfortable in either skin. But the thought of other males staring at his mate and seeing what she kept hidden beneath her clothes pissed him off.

Good thing we’re enjoying the first moon alone.

“Point taken,” he grumbled, releasing her chin and rising to his feet. “I’ll have to make sure you keep extra clothes handy. I’d hate to kill someone for doing something as innocent as enjoying a breathtaking view.”

Placing her hands on the sides of the tub, she reclined against the back and relaxed. “Just remember it goes both ways. Turnabout is fair play.”

With a shake of his head he turned from the enticing vision resting in the water and went to put on some clothes. She didn’t have to worry about him remembering things went both ways. How could he possibly forget? The message she’d been sending was loud and crystal clear. If he displayed the goods, she’d do the same.

He recognized a threat when he heard one.

I’m so fucked.

When the pack learned Chloe’d had him by the balls, Jackson knew he’d never live it down. The first time he ducked behind a tree or bush to shift forms would be the end of it. Word would spread and his image would take a nosedive. Jackson Donovan—pack Alpha, successful tattoo artist and businessman, whipped into shape by a small armful of female who made the rules and enforced them with an iron fist.

Son of a bitch.

Tonight was going to be hell.