Third Time Lucky

Because you worked so hard to keep him at a distance, it was all he could do. And because, frankly, it doesn’t affect the security of the pack. The difference in your ranks is negligible. You essentially do the same jobs.”

“Well, he doesn’t have that excuse anymore, does he,” she whispered. Oh hell. Her rank and her job were the only things she was sure of.

“This is something you really should be talking to him about, Gabby,” she said, and it was the friend, not the superior in the voice now. “It’s not all conflict, you know. It doesn’t have to be. My private relationship is not on display for the pack. No reason yours should be either.” Liza didn’t have to say what she was really thinking. Gabby knew. Liza kept her personal relationship as private as possible, unlike Gabby’s parents, who were known pack-wide for their volatility.

“And yes,” Liza went on. “You can let go, you should be able to let go, privately, with your mates.”

Liza said it with such conviction, such faith, but Gabby wasn’t sure she had any. She swallowed hard and stood, wanting only to be inside the safety of her house while these thoughts consumed her.

“I need to get back. Thanks.” She nodded to include Harper. “I appreciate it.” She was grateful they’d shared their experiences, that they understood her fears, but in the end she left more confused than when she’d started. She ran home using werewolf speed but without shifting, dimly aware of the damage it was doing to her bare human feet. It didn’t matter to her, but she was so lost in her worries she didn’t realize they were both still in her house until she entered. She didn’t realize until she’d slammed the door behind her and Ethan growled.

Her response was instinctive and mean, and she knew when she snapped her head around to look at him, her eyes glowed yellow. He stood in the middle of her hall, chest bare, jeans zipped but unbuttoned. The smell of sex was heavy in the air. They’d entertained themselves while she was gone.

“Why are you still here?”

He slid forward slowly. Stalked. She stood her ground, refusing to be cowed.

“Why do you smell of our beta?” he practically snarled.

She’d completely forgotten about the gray T-shirt she was wearing. “I shifted to talk to Liza. He gave it to me so I wouldn’t be naked.”

Oh my gods. She wanted to slap herself; the explanation had come out so fast, without any thought.

“Take it off. Take it off now, Gabby,” he demanded, and if she hadn't seen a hint of claws poking through his fingertips, she would have delayed. Would have argued against his trying to dominate her. She’d never seen him like this, though—out of control of his wolf.

She pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it into the corner. Ethan heaved a sigh and came closer. He lifted a hand, claws gone now, and his fingers stroked her cheek. “Where did you run off to? Why?”

She ducked under his arm, feeling exposed down to her bones, and tried to hurry down the hall while looking like she wasn’t running away. Harris caught her elbow when she passed the archway into the living room and tugged her inside.

Chapter Eight

Ethan still wasn’t thinking straight. She’d taken off, angry and confused, and had returned with Zach’s scent on her. He knew in his head she hadn’t fucked their beta. She wouldn’t let Zach touch her, and he wasn’t interested. But the sane, rational human side wasn’t exactly in control right now. Harris shielded her, and that just pissed him off more.

He prowled into the living room behind them and snarled when Harris tried to step in front of her. “Don’t. Don’t do that.” Reluctantly Harris stepped aside, but Ethan didn’t get closer to her.

He was too furious. He didn’t trust himself. He’d never been so angry at her before, and he’d had cause to be plenty angry over the years.

“Where did you go?”

“I ran the perimeter some. I talked to Liza and Harper. It’s not a big deal, Ethan.” He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to kiss the hell out of her until she stopped resisting him.

“Running. Again. Always running, Gabby.”

He paced. It was the only way to stop himself from grabbing her, from begging her to just stop this nonsense already and accept him. Accept Harris. Stop fighting. He knew how much she hated discord, so why was she doing this?

“What do you expect me to do, Ethan? Just let you take over?” Good gods, was she still hung up on that?

“I expect you to talk to me.” He took a couple of steps closer. “I expect you to tell me what you’re feeling. What you’re afraid of.” Two more steps. “I expect you to not come home smelling of another man. Talk to me, Gabby. Please.” Close enough to touch now, and that irrational rage was fading. He set his hands on her shoulders.

He finally noticed, really noticed, she was naked, breathing fast and deep, her skin flushed rosy with the high emotions in the room. He could smell them—a skill all lupines shared—anger and jealousy and protectiveness and yes, even lust. He pulled her close, kissed the soft skin under her ear.

“Talk to me, baby,” he whispered.

He was stunned at how quickly she spun away, moving toward the window and standing with the loose-limbed fighter’s grace he knew so well. Subtly aggressive, ready to pounce. He knew every detail of her, but he was surprised to see this here, now. He held his hands wide.

“I’ve never been a danger to you,” he said firmly.

Her lips twisted in a way that some would have called a smile, but he knew her too well.

“Are you going to challenge me for my rank now that you’ve marked me?” The question stunned him. He could challenge her, and he’d probably win. He suspected they both knew that. But it would be a long, bloody battle. The price too damned high to move up only one rank when neither of them was going higher than they were now. He wouldn’t risk losing her for that little bit of gain. It was too important to her. Not the rank but the position it put her in. She thought he didn’t know about her little side projects. The girls she took under her wing. The abused refugees—human, wolf, and mage—she funneled through Redemption and sent to safer places. She didn’t discriminate against the needy. It was one of the things he loved about her.

“No,” he answered. “I’ve never intended that.”