“I should call my father,” Brynn said.
His hand jerked at the unexpected statement. “Your father?”
“I’ve been gone for almost three days. He has to have noticed my absence by now, and maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe he knows something. About me or about Fiona. A White Wolf went missing from Connecticut two decades ago, and you think she’s Fiona’s mother, don’t you? If the Congress was involved in any way, my father will know.”
“Will he tell you?”
“Probably not.” She gave him a brave smile that warmed his heart. “But I can try. At the very least he is still my father, and he deserves to know I’m alive and well.”
“You’re right,” Father said. “Call him.”
“Thank you. If he asks, Mr. McQueen, am I still compelled to remain here?”
“You may leave if that’s your choice. I am, however, asking that you stay until this business with Fiona and her sisters is finished. Not just because your input is valuable, but also because you’ve been in close proximity to them. You may be a target now.”
Brynn nodded her understanding. Rook stood up and offered her his hand, which she took as she rose. His father turned his desk phone around to face them, then went to the door. Bishop followed him downstairs.
“Would you like me to go?” Rook asked.
She studied him long enough to make him nervous, then asked, “May I ask you something first?”
“Anything.”
He didn’t expect her question to come in the form of her reaching up, cupping his head from behind, and pulling him down into a kiss. He responded without thought, his arms going around her waist, hauling her against him. Nothing like their first tentative kiss, this one asked and answered a thousand questions. She angled her head and parted her lips, and Rook accepted the invitation. The taste of her mouth exploded on his tongue as he took everything she gave.
His heart pounded and his pulse raced in an exciting cadence inspired by her touch. His senses filled with the taste and scent of her, and his dick began to take notice of the proceedings. He wanted her. He wanted to taste every part of her, to bring her only pleasure and joy from his touch, to see her naked in his arms. He wanted her to come undone beneath him, and for himself to be the one to take her there. He wanted her to take him there, too.
God, if only it were possible. If only the choice to make love to her were as simple as both of them wanting it. And the way she pressed her hips to his, the way she groaned into his mouth, told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He wanted to stay here in this moment and kiss until they were both senseless from it, and then he wanted to bend her over the desk and claim her as his.
But that was not possible—not until he’d made another choice.
Reluctantly, Rook broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, unable to catch control of his breathing. The warmth of her breath puffed against his throat, and her thin fingers clutched his t-shirt at the shoulders. They stood there, inhaling each other in, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
“Damn,” Brynn said.
“Damn?” Rook pulled back to look at her face.
She was smiling. “I was hoping last night’s kiss was a fluke and all of this would become less complicated.”
“Instead of more complicated?”
“Exactly. I also needed to be sure of my decision to stay before I call my father.”
Hope grabbed his heart and held tight. “You’ll stay and help us?”
“Yes, and not because I’m asking you for any promises. I won’t ask and we haven’t known each other long enough to make them. But I do feel like I can do some good here. I’ve had more visions since I walked into town three days ago than in the entire previous month. My visions brought you and Knight home. I can’t promise I’ll have more, or that they’ll be effective in any way, but I’ll stay. It isn’t as though my father has any use for me at home.”
Her words both exhilarated and confused him. He wanted her to stay, but she didn’t want him to think she was staying because of him—them—and he didn’t understand. Oh. Yes, he did. She didn’t want him to base any of his future decisions regarding his role as Alpha on her. Too bad. He wanted her so badly his teeth ached. The feeling was nothing he’d ever experienced in his life, and that had to mean something.
His hands drifted down to settle on her hips, and he paused. He had half a mind to pull her closer, to show her how much he wanted her—although how she couldn’t already feel his erection through that flimsy sundress was beyond him. He also knew that more bodily contact was a seriously bad idea. Especially here in his father’s office. So he very gently separated them, despite his beast howling for him to keep her close.
“You should make that phone call,” he said.
Brynn perched on the side of the desk as she dialed. He sat in the wicker chair across from her, surprised she changed the phone over to speaker. The mechanical buzz repeated four times before someone picked up the line.
“Atwood,” said a strange male voice.
She licked her lips. “It’s Brynn.”
“Where are you, child? Are you safe?” The genuine concern in the man’s voice surprised Rook—not nearly as much as it surprised Brynn, if her arched eyebrows were any indication.
“Yes, I’m fine, Father, and I’m sorry I couldn’t call before now. Circumstances didn’t allow it.”
She carefully explained everything, from her determination to find Rook and somehow prove she hadn’t manufactured her vision of him, all the way to this morning. She avoided certain details, such as the number of loup lost and their identification of Fiona’s dual nature, as well as the truth she’d learned about herself. She did tell him about the vampire-loup hybrid triplets and their plans to breed more of themselves.
The other end of the phone remained silent long after Brynn finished talking.
“Two of the three visions I’ve had since I arrived have come true,” Brynn said when her father didn’t speak. “The third hasn’t happened yet, and neither has your death, Father.”
“You need to come home,” he replied.
“I can’t. I need to stay and help the people here.”
“They aren’t people, daughter, the loup garou are animals.”
Rook held back a snarl at the familiar insult.
“They’ve been kind to me, despite the fact that I snuck into their town and accused one of the Alpha’s sons of your murder. You say they’re animals, but they’ve demonstrated compassion and tolerance. Would the Congress have done the same had our roles been reversed?”
“No loup garou would have gotten close enough for it to be an issue.” Now Atwood was insulting their security. Nice. “I’ll repeat myself, daughter. You need to come home.”
“I told you that I can’t.”
“Are you a prisoner? They won’t allow you to leave? Because that Alpha will answer to—”
“I’m not a prisoner, I promise. And I didn’t call so you could change my mind about staying here.”
“Then why did you bother?”
A pained looked settled on Brynn’s face, and Rook could almost see the thoughts flashing through her mind:
because you’re my father and I didn’t want you to worry; because despite not believing in me I love you; because it’s the right thing to do.
Rook leaned forward and squeezed her knee, offering the only support he could.
“I called you because a Magus is involved in the two loup garou bloodbaths I told you about,” Brynn said with steel in her voice. “We have proof.”
Silence. Then, “What kind of proof?”
“The irrefutable kind. Do you know anything about it?”
“You know I can’t confirm or deny that question, Brynn.” Atwood actually sounded surprised. “I would never betray a Congress secret, or the trust of another Magus.”
“Can’t or won’t.”
“Both.”
“Not even to save my life?”
“This isn’t about you, daughter, this about Magi honor and allegiance to our people. Something you would do well to remember while you’re associating with those animals.”
Brynn flinched. Maybe Atwood truly had no idea of his daughter’s loup blood—or the jerk was just being deliberately cruel. Rook wanted to know, wanted to reach through the phone and pound answers out of the man with his fists. He wanted to take that devastated look off Brynn’s face and replace it with joy and pride in who she was.
“What’s honorable about ignoring the needs of others?” Brynn asked. “These hybrids will keep coming until they get what they want, and they will keep killing. Once they’re done with the loup garou, what’s to stop them from attacking the Magi?”
“We can protect ourselves from four little girls.”
Rook bit back a snarl at the implication that the loup were incapable of the same. If the Magi weren’t involved, they had a bigger head start on defending their kind against this new hostile than the loup had.
“Just tell me you’re not involved, Father, please.”
“I cannot answer that. I wish I could, but I cannot. Will. Not.”
Brynn closed her eyes briefly, and when she reopened them, they glistened with furious tears. “Then don’t. But please be wary, Father. Someone in the Congress may be working against the rest of us. If you truly know nothing about the Magus who is helping the half-breeds, then be wary. They may not stop at murdering the loup garou.”
“I’ll take your words under advisement, daughter. Whatever your chosen path, be safe in it.”
“Thank you.”
He hung up before she could continue the conversation.
Rook stood and folded her against him. She didn’t sob or scream, just rested there, one hand over his heart, as if comforted by its constant beat. He rested his chin on the top of her head and inhaled her scent, intoxicated by its strange mix of bitter orange and wildflowers. “What do you think?” he asked.
“He’s hiding something. I’m uncertain if it’s guilt or if he’s already suspicious of someone in the Congress. And there’s something . . .”
“What?”
“I’m not certain. It could be a memory, it could be nothing. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
“If you remember what it was?”
“I’ll tell you, I promise.”
“So your father? What would you lay money on? Guilty?”
“I’m not a gambler, Rook. I need facts, not odds.”
“Not a gambler, huh?”
She shifted in his arms to face him, and he couldn’t help noticing how perfectly she fit there, next to him. Gazing at him with wide blue eyes overflowing with trust—and an unexpected heat that went straight to his groin. “I wouldn’t consider this thing with us, whatever it is, a gamble,” she said.
“What would you consider it?”
“A calculated risk.”
Risk implied intent on her part. She wasn’t completely putting her heart on the line, but she was offering him a glimpse of what was available. She wanted him. He wanted her. That was the easy part. Everything else around them made being together impossible.
No, not completely impossible. Only impossible if he wanted to be Alpha. He’d finished college as planned, and then left his music career behind because he’d had no choice. He had to protect his people’s secrecy. He’d returned home to prove himself Alpha material because, again, he’d felt he had no choice. He was the Black Wolf. He enjoyed working for his father, working with his brothers, and learning how to be a respectable role model for the other loup garou in their run.
The real question he needed to answer for himself was: did he want to lead?
Bishop had been groomed for the role of Alpha since he was a child, for years before Rook was even born and before he was discovered to be a Black Wolf. Bishop had never said a cross word to him about Rook’s claim to the role of Alpha, and he’d been as supportive as any older brother could be in Rook’s training. Bishop would step aside if Rook decided he wanted to step up. Bishop would be his second, his confidante in all things.
Could he do that to Bishop? Take away everything he’d wanted and worked for since he was a boy? And for what? Because Rook lost his chance to be a musician? He could still play, could still sing if he chose to. There were other dreams, other ways to live his life. Rook didn’t have to steal his brother’s dream and claim it for his own. There was something—someone—else he wanted to claim for himself more.
Brynn cupped his cheek in one warm palm. He’d been staring at her without speaking for a while, and he still wasn’t sure what to say. He covered her hand with his and threaded their fingers together.
“What do your tattoos mean?” she asked.
The random question threw him a bit. Then the inquisitiveness made him smile. “They’re lyrics to the first song I ever wrote. Granted, I was twelve when I wrote it, and the lyrics weren’t that good, so I had a friend draw them in Sanskrit for the tattoo artist.”
She studied the marks on the side of his neck and his forearms. He hardly noticed them anymore, but they often got double takes from strangers. “Can you read one to me?”
“‘My heaven is in your eyes,’ is the chorus. It’s pretty cheesy, but it was a ballad.”
“I’d like to hear you sing one day.”
“I think a private concert can be arranged.”
“Excellent.” Her smile dimmed. “Rook, please don’t think I’m trying to make a decision for you. Jillian told me about the choice you have to make. Whether or not you wish to succeed your father as Alpha.”
He stiffened. He couldn’t help it. Brynn tried to pull away, and he held tight. He wouldn’t let her pull away from him as if her feelings didn’t matter. “What did Jillian tell you?”
“That if you chose to pursue me you’d be forfeiting your chances of being Alpha.”
“She’s right.”
“Rook, please don’t let me be a factor in that decision. You have to do what’s best for you and for your people.”
He took her hands and clasped them together over his heart. “And what if I decide that you are what’s best for me, and that Bishop is best for our people?”
“Hearts can be finicky things, and they can sometimes lead us astray. Whatever you do decide”—she wrestled one hand free—“make sure the decision comes from here”—she touched his temple—“and from here”—then squeezed the hand over his heart. “Both places need to agree for you to truly be happy.”
“You’re right. Thank you.” He kissed her, just a gentle press of lips. “We should tell my father about the conversation with yours.”