So I Married a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (2 page)

She sighed. “I know. You don’t have to say any more.”

Images of dollar signs and massive amounts of green dough spun through her head. She’d be paying off his student loans forever. She’d never get on her feet.

Guilt soured her stomach as those horrible thoughts trickled in.

Dawson had graduated high school as valedictorian, and then majored in design at WSU, just like their father had. Going to Yale, continuing in their father’s footsteps, probably made Dawson feel closer to him.

If she could help him reach that dream, she would.

She threw herself back against the cushions, laid her head back, and closed her eyes. “I’ll deposit the cash in your account first thing in the morning. Go to the conference and we’ll talk when you get back.”

She was going to need a winning lottery ticket to get out of this mess.

“Seriously?” he screeched. “You’re the best.”

“I know. Love you, dude.”

“Love you, too.”

She ended the call, fell over, and screamed into the couch cushion.

“You okay?” Carter said through her scream.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Nothing too major.”

“Good. Then I’ll let you have your mental breakdown in peace. I’m going to head home and change,” Carter said, dragging Bailey out the door, his arm covering the wet spot on his pants. “I’ll pick the movie tomorrow night. And I’m bringing something harder than beer.”

“You’re a good friend,” she said.

But every second of every day she wished he was something more.

Chapter Two

When Carter awoke the next morning, he was still thinking about Faith and the phone call she’d had with her brother. It had bothered him. Probably more than it should’ve, since her family dynamic was none of his business. Dawson had asked for money, and of course she’d send it to him. She always did; she was warmly generous that way. Carter hated someone taking advantage of her kindness…even if that someone was her only living blood relative.

He’d see her tonight for their movie ritual. Maybe he’d ask her why she didn’t just tell Dawson to stand on his own two feet…

He strode through the doors of the Enforcement Bureau’s building and checked his watch. Five minutes until his meeting with the captain. The bureau was the Seattle Wolf Pack’s policing unit. They closely watched the werewolves roaming the streets of Seattle, made sure they were lying low, obeying all the laws—both city and pack—and not committing crimes that would get their kind noticed by the non-shifting portion of the population. Not a bad job for a werewolf. Carter had worked on the streets as an enforcer for the last ten years.

But with a little luck, all of that was about to change.

Veins thrumming with excitement, Carter marched through the marble-floored lobby, punched the button on the elevator, and let it sweep him to the top floor. The doors opened up to an ocean-themed flat with desks, chairs, and leather couches facing a window that looked out over the city.

There were two people on the floor: a secretary poised in front of the captain’s office and Nate Ramsey, another member of the Enforcement Bureau.

“Carter Griffin,” the secretary said, when he checked in. “Take a seat and I’ll let the captain know you’ve finally arrived.”

“Finally?” Carter checked his watch. “It’s ten sharp. I’m not late.”

“You’re not early.”

“Damn,” Carter mumbled. “The captain doesn’t mess around.” He took one of the leather couches outside the door and glanced at Nate.

“Good to see you,” Nate said, leaning forward to clasp his hands over his knees. “How you been?”

Nate was a hundred-year-old werewolf, a few years younger than Carter. He’d been with the bureau the same amount of time and had spent a decent amount of time on the road.

He must’ve been applying for the position of detective, too. And why wouldn’t he? It was the most respected position on the force.

“Well enough.” Carter eyed Nate’s tie. It was crooked. He double-checked his own. “You?”

“Can’t complain.” Nate scraped his hands over his skull-trim cut. “You here for the detective position?”

Nodding, Carter rested his elbows on his knees.

“You’re golden. If I knew you were putting in for the position, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Don’t cut yourself short,” Carter said. “You’re more than qualified.”

And now Carter had some serious competition.

If he’d been confident about getting the detective position before—not that he was, of course—those feelings were long gone now. Nate Ramsey was a great enforcer. How Captain Rich was going to make this decision was beyond him.

“Mr. Griffin, Mr. Ramsey,” the secretary said, hanging up the phone. “He’ll see you both now.”

Tugging down his sleeves so the tattoos on his arms wouldn’t peek out the bottom, Carter strode ahead of Nate, through the double doors leading to the captain’s office. The room shared the same ocean theme as the foyer, only the colors were darker, muted, and warmer. Carter knew better than to make himself comfortable, though. Captain Rich was 220 pounds of authority in a gray suit and tie and a crisp white shirt that stretched tautly over his shoulders. From what Carter had heard, their superior was a born werewolf, six hundred years old, and had created the bureau from the ground up.

“Please,” Captain Rich said, spreading his arms to the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.”

Carter took the seat on the left and Nate took the one next to him.

The captain sat in his wingback chair and flipped open two folders on his desk. He scanned through their contents, and then eyed them both carefully.

“You’ve both been on the road the same amount of time, give or take a few months.” He tented his fingers together and glared at them with eerie black eyes. “You’ve both progressed up the ranks, earning top marks from your sergeants. You take any overtime shifts available. You volunteer for professional development every time an opportunity arises. Professionally speaking, you’re both prime for the position of detective.”

Were they going to bend the rules and accept both?

Nate kicked the side of Carter’s chair as if he’d read his excitement.

“But your personal résumés are just as important in determining which one of you will fill our vacancy. We’re not only a policing force within the pack, we’re a family. There are hundreds of enforcers on our payroll, and each of them is an important piece of the family unit. However,” he said, standing, “promoted positions like sergeant, lieutenant, captain, detective, and special ops make up the backbone of the wolf pack. We have formed a council filled with these high-ranking positions.” He faced the window wall behind him and clasped his hands behind his back.

Rain beat against the windows, matching the drumming of Carter’s heart. He forced himself to calm, but couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that the storm was about to break.

“Once a month,” Captain Rich went on, “this council meets and discusses how to run the rest of the bureau more effectively. We believe significant others have a role to play as well, since you will go home to talk about your day and wolf pack business to the mate who warms your bed.”

Carter had heard about retreats for high-ranking officials. He’d also heard it was a family affair, but he’d figured it was more like a company picnic than a meeting on wolf pack business.

The captain spun around and leveled them with a serious glare. “We’re looking for stability, gentlemen. We’re more likely to vote on a mated pair than a lone wolf.”

Wait—
what
? Tension crept up his spine. He didn’t have a mate. Well, he corrected, he’d had one and she died. He fit the textbook definition of “lone wolf.” Did that mean he wasn’t in contention for the position?

“With all due respect, sir,” Carter said, hands clamming. “What does relationship status have to do with the ability to be a detective?”

“What do you think would happen if we chose a serial dater to take on the position? Casual significant others could be privy to all kinds of information on the inner workings of our bureau. If the couple split—as we’d expect—we’d be put in a precarious situation. Multiply this by multiple mates and we’ve got a major problem on our hands.” The captain paused, his gaze raking over them. “According to your files, neither of you two are married. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

Carter got the feeling that this was one of those make-or-break moments. The split second when he’d either get the job of his dreams or be left working the streets for the next hundred years.

“I’m not married, sir,” Nate said. “But I’ve found my Luminary. We’ll be married and bonded next weekend.”

The werewolf bonding process was much like a marriage ceremony, but instead of linking people for life, it extended the wolves’ lives from a few hundred to a thousand years. Thanks to the bond, both the male and female wolf gained strength and speed. The process itself had to be performed during sex, when they were linked body to body, hand to hand, soul to soul. Sacred words were spoken, joining their souls.

Not every wolf found their Luminary, their one and only fated mate, and ones who did were considered blessed.

“Well done. Congratulations to you both.” The captain shifted his attention to Carter. “And you? Are our records properly updated?”

Carter’s stomach dropped. He’d found his Luminary when he was a newly transitioned wolf. That was over fifty years ago, before their love faded, their marriage failed, and she died. The Luminary bond was supposed to be amazing—sunshine and rainbows and all that BS. They must’ve done it wrong.

And now he was destined to roam the world alone.

Without his dream job, apparently.

He
needed
this promotion, and he would’ve been damn good at it. There were cases in the bureau that needed to be revisited, closed cases that deserved to be reopened and reanalyzed. Murders needed to be solved. Suspects needed to be questioned. As a simple enforcer, he followed orders. Period.

He was more than ready to
lead
.

“I’m in the same position as Nate.” Carter swallowed hard and hoped they didn’t see him sweat. Because lying didn’t come easy. Never had, never would, but too much rode on getting this position. “I’ve found my fated mate, but neither of us wants a big wedding. We plan to elope as soon as our schedules allow.”

The captain’s gaze flipped between them. “Then it looks like I have two candidates for the position who are on equal footing. We’re having the monthly council meeting Sunday night. We’d like you to bring your fiancées.”

Carter nearly choked on his own saliva. “Sunday night as in…two days from now?”

“You got it.” Captain Rich grinned, his smile a bit too forced. “It’ll be the perfect opportunity for the council to meet you before they vote.”

Oh shit.

“Leave your numbers with my secretary and she’ll text you both directions to the Owenses’ home,” the captain said, shaking both of their hands. “We’ll decide which couple is a better fit after our meeting.”

“Yes, sir.” Carter bowed out of the office ahead of Nate. Before the captain asked him for his fiancée’s name.

Because he didn’t have one to give.

Chapter Three

That night, at Faith’s request, Carter brought over vodka and cranberry juice. He watched as she poured one drink, downed it, and poured another before he’d even put in the movie. She still seemed to be upset about the phone call she’d had with her brother yesterday. Maybe this time it went deeper than money…

During the previews, Carter relayed the whole story about the interview for the detective position.

“Hold the phone,” Faith said, as she curled into the corner of her couch. “You’re getting
married
?”

“I’d be getting married if I had a bride, a fiancée, or a girlfriend, but I’ve got none of the above. And I lied to the captain’s face—flat-out told him I was engaged. I’m screwed, right?” He slouched down into the love seat, kicked up his foot on the coffee table, and took a hard drink. “Royally screwed.”

“Aren’t you still with—” She waved her hand around her face and her eyes fluttered closed. The alcohol was already setting in. “Paisely? She was pretty.”

“I was never with Paisely officially, so it’s hard to say that it ended, but I won’t be seeing her anymore.”

“What happened?”

He didn’t want to rehash it. Not tonight. “Didn’t work out. Let’s leave it at that.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked softly.

“No clue. I’m open to suggestions.”

“I always think better with food.” She heaved herself off the couch and stubbed her toe on the corner as she headed into the kitchen. A drawer squeaked open. She rummaged for something and reappeared seconds later with a bag of tortilla chips and a gigantic tub of salsa. She popped the top, poured the salsa into a pink dotted bowl, and opened the bag of chips, spinning it his direction. “Dig in.”

A woman after his own heart.

Only he never let women close enough to get there.

Well, he let Faith see sides of him that others didn’t, but she was a friend, so she didn’t count. When he’d first moved in to his new place and heard that a female werewolf lived next door, he’d come to introduce himself right away. He found her attractive, with chestnut-colored hair layered around her face, and wide, innocent brown eyes, but there was no spark between them. He didn’t have the urge to impress her like he did with the other women he dated, and he didn’t get the feeling that she was interested in him in return.

So they’d become friends, and he’d really come to enjoy their banter. He could relax with Faith, unlike the other girls he let into his life.

Besides, if he dated her, it would end the way it always did. He’d work long hours, piss her off, and inevitably become an insensitive ass (at least, that’s what he’d been told).

It’d ruin everything.

“Vodka, chips, and salsa. King’s meal right here.” He shoved a chip into his mouth, wondering as he often did what Faith would look like in wolf form. Her fur would probably be the color of chestnut, matching her hair, and her coat would probably be sleek and smooth. But would she be soft and delicate in wolf form, or bulky and strong? “Thanks for the grub, but this doesn’t help me.”

Faith emptied her second drink and wagged a chip his direction. “There’s only one solution to your problem. We’ve got to find you a fake fiancée.”

“Uh…what?”

“You need to get engaged. Now. Here—” She turned to the back of a magazine and ripped out the last page. “Let’s make a list of prospects.”

“Let’s not,” Carter said, laughing. Faith’s idea was wack. He couldn’t get engaged. No way, nohow. Maybe he could come up with a fake fiancée for the party on Sunday and…
what
? Have her fake die by Monday?

Faith ignored him. “Okay, Paisely’s obviously out…what about the girl you were with before her?”

“Lorinne,” Carter said, remembering.

“Great!” She grinned, triumphant.

“Not happening.” He chomped into a chip. “She’s pregnant by her new man.”

Faith clapped. “Instant family! Perfect!”

“Oh yeah,” he said, mumbling. “Wife and child. Just add water.”

“If you think water is what’s needed to make a child, you’ve got something to learn!” Giggling, she bumped him in the shoulder and fell into a mound of pillows. “Remind me not to get near you and a water bottle.”

God, she was cute when she laughed.

“Oh! You dated what’s-her-pretty-face before that! Gemma!” She gasped, jerked upright, and then scribbled Gemma’s name. “But wait, didn’t she cheat on you?”

That wasn’t exactly the way it went down. Carter had gotten the vibe that Gemma was going to cheat—staying out late, ignoring his phone calls, standing dates with “the girls”—so he’d ended it before she could.

It was the same story over and over again.

After his Luminary died, he’d dated other women, and had even thought about getting married again. He’d heard about lone wolves marrying others after their mates passed on. But he couldn’t do it. Not out of loyalty to his deceased mate—she didn’t have the same loyalty during their marriage—but because he simply didn’t have the patience to build anything with anyone else.

“She didn’t cheat, but it wasn’t far off.” Carter poured another drink, this one straight vodka. The cranberry was too sweet for his taste. “I don’t think any of my exes will—after it’s over, they won’t…how do I put it?”

Faith nodded as if she understood. “You don’t think they’ll like you enough to do this for you.”

“Not without a stiff bribe.”

She snorted when he said “stiff.”

“The last thing I want is to get hooked up again, even if it’s fake.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “There’s got to be another way.”

“Yes, you could tell your captain the truth,” she said, swiveling toward him. “You could say you told a little white lie and happily work the road for the rest of your life. Not so bad, right?”

He paused, weighing his options. “Riiiiight.”

“Or, you could leave your ego at the door and say your fiancée doesn’t want you to take the job.”

“You want me to admit that I let a woman dictate my career choices?” He shook his head, thoughts whirring. “Don’t think so. No one would believe it. Besides, that still leaves me without the job I’ve killed myself for.”

She pursed her lips in that adorable way of hers. “Then you have to get engaged.”

There had to be another way. Didn’t there?

Seconds dragged by, stretching into minutes. The rainstorm that’d been pummeling Seattle beat against Faith’s cabin windows, storming into a crescendo that had Carter zoning out, listening. Realization struck like a lightning bolt.

There was no going back.

“If I did this, I’d want it to be over as quickly as possible. The council meeting is Sunday, so this thing could be over Monday,” he said. “Tuesday, at the latest.”

“This
thing
? It’s an engagement, Casanova.” Faith whacked him with the remote and accidently changed the channel. “No wonder you’re single. You really think they’ll buy that?” Frantically punching remote buttons, she accidentally turned the TV off. Instead of figuring out how to turn it back on, she first narrowed her eyes at the screen, and then at him. “Won’t they think it’s strange that you’re with someone for the weekend, but are single by the start of your first shift?”

Never thought about it.

“So you think it’s got to extend beyond the week?” His throat scratched. “A long engagement…a month?”

She shoved a chip in her mouth and shook her head.

“A year?” he offered, his throat drying to sandpaper.

“I thought you said the council thingy wanted a mated pair,” she said, finishing off her drink. “You might have to actually marry her.”

Stars danced in front of his eyes and his vision zoomed in and out. Where was a paper bag when you needed one?

“If you end things too quickly,” she said, “couldn’t they just fire you?”

“They could, but I’ll prove them wrong. I’ll be an asset to the bureau on my own.”

As thunder rumbled outside, the lights flickered. Oh yeah, a power outage would top the cake on this perfect day. Then they wouldn’t be able to watch the movie, they’d have to call it a night, and he wouldn’t get his Faith Fix. He couldn’t explain how it happened, but she made him feel that an impossible situation was possible. He felt…relaxed around her. Like he could conquer the world and this insane plan would actually work.

“Worst-case scenario,” he said, swallowing hard, “would be a long engagement that turns into a wedding to prove I’m serious with this chick. How long would I have to fake it?”

“Mmm…” She made a sweet little sound in the back of her throat, and something in his gut twisted. “Not sure. Six months? A year?”

Images of wolves in the wild gnawing off their legs to escape traps flashed through his mind.

“Okay, if I did that, the bureau would have to let me keep my position. Divorces happen. They’d have to understand. By the end of a year I’d be firmly rooted in their ‘family.’ But if whoever I pick gets greedy—”

“Or spiteful about the way you broke it off with her last time,” Faith interrupted, stealing his drink and taking a hearty swig.

“Right,” he continued. “I could lose everything I’m doing this thing for.”

“I don’t know what you’re going to do, or what I’m going to do.” She hiccupped and patted her chest. “If I don’t figure somethin’ out, all of this could go pfft!”

He tried to piece together her meaning, but her words were fuddling around. “What?”

She closed her eyes as she spoke. “Dawson got into Yale. Yale! Can you believe it? Yale is a weird word. Say it. Yale. Yale. Yaallleee.”

He laughed, watching her say the word over and over again, her lips puckering in and out like a fish.

He liked drunk Faith. A lot.

“Yale!” he said, nodding. “That’s great. And that’s a good thing, right?”

“Noooo.” She wagged her finger, and he imagined her in wolf form, tail swishing back and forth, her ears perked up playfully. “Not a good thing.”

Now they were getting down to the reason she’d been so upset yesterday…

“I don’t understand,” he said, watching her features turn solemn. “Why is Dawson going to Yale a problem?”

She leaned forward, planting her hand on the coffee table for balance. Her eyes were coffee brown and getting glossier by the second. “He’s my responsibility. Ohh, that’s a tough word to say when your tongue’s numb. Re-spon-sibil-ity.” She grinned when she got it right, all traces of sadness gone. “If he wants Yale, I’ve got to pay for it.”

Carter felt his brow furrow. “Doesn’t he have a job?”

“Full-time one. I got three.” She fumbled to hold up three fingers. “Still not enough. Our dad went to Yale. Did I tell you that?”

He shook his head.

“Yup. Dawson wants to be just like him.”

“That’s not surprising. He was a great man.” Carter remembered Faith telling him about the way their parents had died. They were non-shifters, killed during a home invasion gone wrong. Their dad had tried to protect them, but he didn’t stand a chance against a werewolf. “Dawson probably feels closer to your dad when he walks in his shoes.”

“Oh, I know that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re right, you’re right, of course you’re right!”

Oh yeah, she was drunk. Well, two drinks and half of his made her more tipsy than drunk. But still. No woman told a man he was right three times in a row—or at all…
ever
—without being a little out of her mind.

Gazing far off, Faith brushed her hand over the scar on her neck. As if the mere mention of her father had brought the memories of the tragic event to the surface. In the attack, Dawson and Faith had been bitten, turned into wolves, and left for dead. Joining the Seattle Wolf Pack had saved them. Carter had no idea Faith had been supporting her brother financially. No wonder she worked three jobs and didn’t have much to show for it.

“So you need Yale tuition.” He dropped back into the couch cushions, stroking the condensation dripping off his glass. “You’re in a pickle.”

“You want one?” Her eyebrows perked up, though her eyes weren’t tracking well. “I think I have a jar in the fridge.”

“What? No. Faith, I meant…never mind.” He scraped his hands through his hair.

An idea sparked.

“You still not dating anyone?” he said. It wasn’t a question. He kept a close eye on her love life, though he didn’t know why the interest was so intense.

“Me?” Laughing, she scooped up another chip full of salsa. She missed her mouth. “What do you think?”

Men were stupid
. Faith was a sweetheart and pretty in a natural, classic kind of way. Perfect for any man who didn’t turn relationships toxic. Plus, she was loyal and honest and would never stab her lover in the back.

He slid to the edge of the couch, his path suddenly clear. This was his only chance. Sunday was two short days away.

“Faith, I have a proposition for you.”