The Werewolf Tycoon's Secret Baby (The Woolven Secret Book 2) (7 page)

“How old was he when he first Changed? Do you have pictures I can have copies of?”

Something twisted in her. “You know…” she paused. “I didn’t try to keep him from you.”

“I know that, Emmie. I should’ve given you my real name. That was my mistake.”

“Yet, if you had, I don’t think we’d have spent that time together. I’d have run so fast in the other direction. The Great and Terrible Woolvens… Or maybe we would’ve. What a thumb in Peter’s face.” She laughed quietly.

“More like a dick.” He laughed and shook his head. “I’m going to head back to Aphelion. I want to spend some time with Noah before he has to come home.”

“I… I’ll come with you. I do want to meet the rest of Noah’s family.”

“They’re your family now, too. Whether you want us or not.”

She gave a watery laugh. “I guess that’s true about most family. Are you sure they’d want me there?”

Emmie hated how needy she sounded. How unsure of herself. Peter made her feel that way all the time. Like no one could ever want her but him. How she was a burden. Everything she did was wrong.

“The first thing Blake asked me when I told him about you and Noah was when you were moving in.”

“The very first?” She eyed him.

“Well, maybe not the very first.” He grinned. “We are richer than Midas and that’s always a concern. But no, he wants you there. We all want you and Noah there.”

“I’ll come today. No promises, except that I’ll let you protect him and be his father.”

“Thank you, Emmie.”

The earnest gratitude on his face made her feel horrible. He shouldn’t have to ask for permission to care for his child.

“Thank you for understanding.” She bit her lip. “Let me get dressed, and we can go. Maybe I can talk to your Mrs. Westwood while we’re there.”

Maybe she’d have some insight as to why Emmie had this reaction. Part of her thought it was PTSD from Peter, but some extra sense told her it was something more. Something even darker than the beast she feared, but Emmie couldn’t hide from it anymore.

She had a son to raise and a life to live and she’d be double-damned if she’d let anyone or
anything
stop her.

P
heromones wrapped
around him in a heady haze.

Drew had a hard time keeping his beast in check. He understood now, intimately, Blake’s struggle before Randi had been Turned. How hard he’d had to fight for the self-control that had been so easily attainable for so long.

The Woolvens were trained at such a young age when and how to leash the animal inside of them and when to give him free rein. They were masters in the art of control before they were permitted to mix with natural society.

He’d gotten his first taste of this madness that day on the plane with Randi, when she’d been fighting the connection between her and Blake. Only that was nothing compared to what he felt now.

Drew couldn’t make it right in his head that his mate was not only afraid and there was nothing he could do about it, but that she was afraid of
him
. That she didn’t recognize the mating bond between them.

Maybe a part of her did. Her desire was part of that fog of pheromones and the beast didn’t understand why he couldn’t rise to meet her needs. That his mate didn’t want him.

That knowledge was as sure as a dagger into the softest parts of him. It filleted him from the inside out.

But the most important thing in all of this wasn’t Emmie.

It was Noah. He’d do anything he had to, make any sacrifice, any compromise to keep him safe. To keep him whole.

If that meant he and Emmie could never be, it would tear him apart, but he’d hold himself together long enough to raise their son until he could take his rightful place as Alpha after Blake.

He tasted blood on his tongue.

Drew’s canines had elongated and he’d cut his cheek. Blood only made his beast rage harder. He fought to control his breathing, his heartbeat. His body temperature had spiked in preparation for the Change. For the first time in more than a hundred years, he didn’t think he was going to be able to stop his Change.

Panic rushed through him as he thought about what that would mean for Emmie.

A red haze fell across his field of vision like a veil of blood and death.

The memory of Emmie’s face surfaced, like sunlight refracted in algae-filled water. It pulled him down, but her face, her light, it was the way out. He’d never seen his beast as a burden before, as a monster, but knowing she did—he fought the animal inside. Battled for control.

He was feverish, sick to his stomach, and his own skin itched like it didn’t belong to him.

Perhaps it didn’t. It belonged to her, to Emmie.

“Drew? Are you okay?”

She’d emerged from her bedroom, wearing jeans and a clean t-shirt. She smelled like lemonade, like summer. He and his beast were instantly soothed by the scent and her presence—the concern in her voice that he knew was for him.

“Better now.” His vision cleared and he was able to focus. Everything was sunlight and summer—the blood haze was gone.

“What happened?” Her fingers were cool on his heated skin, and he breathed deep.

He debated lying to her, for her protection. Only that never seemed to end well. He had to be honest with her because he wanted her to be honest with him.

“The scent of your fear, just like before. It—” He searched for the right phrase. “—was still affecting me.”

“This mating stuff is that intense?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I’ve got it under control.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you asking because you’re afraid?” He never wanted her to be afraid ever again.

“For you. I don’t want you to be in pain or…distress.”

“No. I can handle it.”

She laughed, but it was a strange, brittle and broken sound. “This isn’t a place I ever imagined I’d be.”

“Me either. I fully expected to be married to someone by now to increase the pack’s standing and build Woolven Industries.”

“I won’t stand in the way of that, Drew.”

Her words weren’t what he wanted to hear. “You’re not. Things are the way they are. You’re my mate, and I won’t force you to accept that, but there will be no one else for me. It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Why?” It seemed like the words hurt her.

He didn’t want to hurt her. All he wanted was to take her and Noah back to Santorini and live out the rest of their days there in art, luxury, and freedom. He wanted to watch the sunset from a different part of the island every night with his little family.

He wanted his son—he wanted so much. He’d never wanted before—had never known what it meant to have something so vital to him just out of reach.

“Because I want you to feel safe and secure. I want you to know I will protect you above all else.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I know that, Drew.”

His beast was soothed even quieter still. The peace in him now was almost like a drug. Instead of the calm he’d expected, it was a silent sort of euphoria.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Will you ride with me?”

She nodded.

Only when they stepped outside, Drew’s sport ute wasn’t anywhere to be seen. In its place was a hovering broom that revved like pony car if he eyed it too hard.

“Very funny, Westwood. Bring the car back,” he said to the air.

“Do you know how to drive that thing?” She indicated the broom.

“Not really, no.” He shook his head. “It’ll get us to Aphelion safely, though. And away from any prying eyes who might be looking. Magic is kind of great that way.”

“As long as we don’t die getting there, right?” She eyed it, skepticism plain on her face.

But there was a sort of twinkle in her eyes, too. An excitement.

“Well, if Noah got to ride one, I’m game. I want to be able to talk about it with him when we arrive. There’s already so many things he experiences that I’ll never know. I won’t let this be one of them, too. I’m driving.”

She hopped on the broom, straddling it. “I bet it’s like riding a motorcycle.” She stroked the smooth, thick wood of the handle. “Yes, you are just like a motorcycle. Aren’t you?”

The magical thing purred in response and revved.

Emmie laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

Suddenly, Drew was back in Santorini and Emmie was captaining the boat they’d rented for the day. She’d almost dumped them into the sea, but it had been a wild ride he’d never forgotten.

As had the ride after below decks. Their skin had been salty from swimming, warm and sun-kissed. He remembered the way her hair had fallen over them in tangled waves. He remembered being lost in her.

His cock was hard again just thinking about it.

There was also no way he was going to get on the back of that broom with her. He’d have to touch her. Hold her close.

It’d be easier on both of them if he ran, but then again, she’d never ridden on a broom before. He had. Although, the thing seemed to have taken to her.

“Come on. I won’t kill us. At least, I don’t think I will.”

“I was just remembering that boat in Santorini.”

She laughed. “Me too. Come on.”

“Look, that’s not going to work.”

Emmie arched a brow. “If you make some smart-assed comment about women drivers, I’ll punch you in the face. Werewolf or not.”

He flashed her a grin. “Nothing of the sort. Westwood would smack me into my next life. I know better.” Drew shook his head. “You’re beautiful, Emmie. And you affect me. But you already said no. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“What do you mean?”

He decided to be blunt. “An erection, Emmie.”

“Oh!” Her cheeks flushed. “Well, I mean… just get on the damn broom.”

“If you’re sure.” He straddled the broom behind her and it was, in two words, exquisite torture.

“How long is the ride to Aphelion?” she asked, breathless.

It did his ego good to be reminded that she wasn’t unaffected. He knew that she wanted him—that she wanted human him.

“Just a few seconds.” He reached around her to point up at the hill. “You can see the manor from here.”

“Oh, I knew that. You’ve got me all flustered.”

“That’s two of us.” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

“So, how do I drive this thing?”

“Think about where you want to go. It knows what to do.”

The broom lifted off, but it wasn’t the quick jaunt to Aphelion he’d expected.

A fog surrounded them and the scents of the air changed. Lemons. Olive groves. Sea and salt—even the warmth had its own particular scent.

They were on the beach in Santorini.

“I… this isn’t where I told you I wanted to go!” She shrieked at the thing. “Oh my god, I broke it. What are we going to do?” Emmie asked as she scrambled off the broom.

Drew saw two figures swimming out to a small boat and dread filled him. “Shit.”

“What? We’re in Santorini, aren’t we?”

“It’s not just where we are, but when.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she shrieked.

“Look.” He pointed out to the water.

“That’s us. We’re looking at ourselves right now. We’re the people on the beach!”

“Yeah, remember what we said about the people on the beach?”

“No.” But he could tell from her tone that she actually did remember.

So did he. They’d felt so sorry for the strangers they’d seen in the distance, dressed like they didn’t even know they were on an island. They’d made up stories about them—the people. They had horrible lives they were trying to escape and had found themselves magickally transported to—yeah. That happened.

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose,” she said.

“I know that. I should’ve been more clear. The broom takes you where you most want to go and, if you’re not focused…”

“Maybe I was focused. I kept wishing we could come back here, be in these moments again before you were Drew Woolven. Before I was—” she sank down in the sand “—this.”

“There’s nothing wrong with ‘this.’” Drew sat down next to her.

“What about Noah? Oh my god, I have to get back to him.”

The sheer terror on her face almost caused him Change, but the broom suddenly stood up and the bristles looked a little bit like a face—Westwood’s face.

“Take a break. This is obviously where you wanted and needed to be, otherwise Brad wouldn’t have brought you here,” it said in Westwood’s voice.

“Brad?” Emmie asked.

“The boom. Brad, the broom. Yes. Noah is just fine with me and Lenore. And when you come back, it’ll bring you right back to the time that you left. So insta-mini-vacay achieved.” The broom seemed to shrug. “Have dinner. Go for a swim. Not with yourselves, of course. That could be timeline altering horrible.”

“I… need to talk to Noah.”

“Mama, I’m playing. You go play too.” Noah’s voice was suddenly muffled. “I want the chocolate. Chocolate. Truffle from Miss G. TRUFFLES.” Then a loud crash, followed by a tiny howl, and then Lenore’s dulcet tones.

“Seriously, we’re fine. You can take a night out. Especially since, when you come back, it’ll be like you never left. Take a break, Emmie. Then come back to Aphelion, and you and I will have a sleepover, like we used to.”

Drew watched the play of emotions of Emmie’s face. There was so much on her shoulders, more than any one person should have to deal with.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Drew said. They shouldn’t be alone.

“I trust you,” Lenore said with a laugh. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t know where you sleep.”

“Maybe an afternoon wouldn’t hurt,” Emmie agreed.

Oh, but it would. It would hurt in ways he couldn’t begin to explain, but it would be so good, too. Just being near her. Smelling the scent of her hair, seeing the sunset on the island with her. Reminders of things he’d had, things he desired with a bone deep need, and things he couldn’t have again because of what he was.

Part of him held out hope that she’d realize he wasn’t at all the way that Peter Breslin had made his kind out to be. There had to be some part that believed not all werewolves were evil… after all, it was part of who their son was.

Thus far, it hadn’t seemed like she’d tried to change him, to teach him to hide that part of himself in any way that was unacceptable. Of course, he couldn’t run around humans in his wolf form or bite them, or…

He felt guilty as hell for being there on the beach with her instead of with Noah, even though he knew that his family was taking great care of him. Even though the child himself had told them he wanted them to spend time together.

The broom didn’t answer. Instead, it drifted down to its side in the sand, silent and looking like it hadn’t just transported them years into the past and an ocean away.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you drive.”

“Nah.” He took her hand. “We still would’ve ended up here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he reassured her.

They sat together quietly for a long time, digging their toes into the sand and looking out to the water. Out to the boat where their past selves were currently having the best sex of their lives.

As the water washed up on their feet and was pulled back out to sea, slowly, but surely, he let go of the heavy knot that had curled up inside of him. Emmie, sighed, and he rather imagined she’d just done the same.

“I guess we needed a time out.”

“Things are moving pretty fast. Back there, out in the world, so many enemies are aligning against us. It’s hard to do anything but prepare for war.”

“I’m so tired of being afraid. Those moments on that boat with you, that’s the only time in recent memory when I wasn’t afraid.”

His pride swelled knowing he’d done that for her. Been her safe place. There was a satisfaction in having been able to fulfill his purpose. As her mate, her safety was his number one priority.

The fact that she was afraid all the time, that didn’t sting him like he’d come to expect. She chose to be away from him. She chose not to let him protect her. He couldn’t blame himself for that. Emmie was a woman who could make her own choices and it wasn’t up to him to take that away from her—even if he thought she was wrong.

The beast under his skin thought differently, but didn’t protest. He’d accepted that Emmie needed a different kind of mate.

“You know I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen for you.”