Zach should have known by Caleb's overreaction back at the bar what Liza meant to him, but it wasn't until he saw Caleb mark her that it all made sense. She didn't just belong to Caleb.
She also belonged to Zach. He wouldn't be happy sharing a mate with anyone else.
Hearing her stir in the bedroom, he sighed and entered the kitchen. He didn't know what brought her to them now, but he was sure the rest of the night would call for coffee. He started a fresh pot and waited for her to come out.
She'd dressed, and again he was hit by that same sense of unreality as when he'd first seen her. Her raven hair was pulled into a ponytail and with no makeup on she looked impossibly young and feminine. Until his gaze drifted down. The woman was all dangerous curves. That was his first thought when he saw her. It wasn't until he saw her naked, saw her sleekly muscled body that he realized how accurate an assessment that was.
He scowled. She certainly looked competent, but he wasn't real keen on his mate, his
“Where's Caleb?”
“He went to get food. And I brought your car. Ready to tell us why you're here, sweetheart?”
She frowned. “It doesn't have anything to do with you.”
“Hmm.” Letting the heat show in his eyes, he approached her slowly and was relieved to see she felt it too. She froze, gasped when he stretched out a hand to stroke the mark Caleb had left on her neck. Soon enough she'd have a matching one. “We'll have to agree to disagree about that. For now.”
His words snapped her from the spell and she moved away. It was an easy, casual step but her back was stiff. He wanted to put his hands on her and rub away the tension, and he got the feeling she would reject the offer. But why? He thought it was more than loyalty to Caleb.
He searched for a way to put her at ease, but realized he knew almost nothing about her.
After pouring a cup of coffee, he sat at the table and gestured for her to take the chair next to him. He repressed a smile when with a suspicious look she sat at the opposite side of the table.
He needed to get to know her on his own, without going through Caleb. So what did he know? She had a past with Caleb. She was a soldier. And a witch in a werewolf pack. Unheard of.
“Do you know the story of how we became enemies?”
She smiled. “The Little Red Riding Hood story? Of course.”
“Tell me.”
“Don't you already know it?” she teased, one eyebrow cocked. He'd seen her tease Caleb, but this time that carefree smile was for him. He thought his heart might burst from his chest.
“Maybe your version is different.”
She laughed. “Zach, I grew up in a werewolf pack. It's the same.” Her first test. He wondered if she'd lie to him. “Didn't you ever have contact with your own kind?”
Ah, he'd finally ignited her temper. Her eyes literally flashed—a brilliant silver—
reminding him she may be only half wolf but she was definitely all witch. “I see my mother almost every day. As for the others…” She hesitated so long that he didn't expect her to answer.
When she did, her eyes were sad. He'd do damned near anything to get rid of that look. “I saw my mother's family a couple of times when I was a child.” She was silent a long time, and while he watched, it was like she donned a mask. Hiding the hurts from the past. Hiding from him. He'd do something about that. Later.
“Tell me your story, Liza,” he said softly, somehow keeping himself from reaching for her to offer the comfort he knew she wasn't ready to accept yet. It was a way to distract her, to wipe that forlorn look from her face. She recovered quickly, sending him a quick grin that hit him right in the groin.
“Why not? Once upon a time… You sure you want to hear this?”
“Of course.” He had to know how she would teach it to their pups. Gods, was he really thinking that far ahead?
“Okay. Once upon a time, there was a girl called Little Red Riding Hood. Except she wasn't really a girl. She wasn't a woman either. She was at that in-between stage. Young enough to still be charmed by childhood, yet old enough to yearn for adulthood.” So far, their stories matched.
“You want the witch version?”
He nodded.
“The wolf telling is better,” she said softly with a shake of her head before going on. “Red wasn't only young, but beautiful. Light and carefree. Every man and boy in the village was half in love with her, and as she grew she came to prefer one in particular. The woodsman who often escorted her to see her grandmother.”
And here their myths diverged. He rested his chin on his fist, caught up in her story. She told it like they were sitting around a campfire.
“Her heart was set. Most accepted she would never be theirs and wished her well. Most but not all. One young man was determined she would be his.
“He came up with a plan to save her, convinced that if he saved her from the wolf known to haunt their woods, her affections would switch to him.
“He watched and waited for his chance. Then one day he saw her set off on the forest path alone. He raced for a different path, donned the wolf skin he'd hidden, and lay in wait. When she appeared around the bend, he jumped out and howled. But instead of turning back on the path, she ran into the woods.
