The secrets of the world are at your fingertips if you’ll but listen.

  She might not be a witch, but her guardian had taught her to listen to her heart. She’d been on the run so long, acting solely from instinct, she’d forgotten to use those lessons.

  Heart and mind, human and wolf, all parts of her combined and came to one conclusion—she didn’t want to leave. The time for running was at an end. It was time to take a stand.

  “I’ll tell you everything.”

  ****

  Aaron followed Jesse inside. With her back to him, he finally wiped the sweat from his forehead and rolled his shoulders to release the tension knotting his muscles. It had been touch and go there for a minute.

  She was skittish, but he’d underestimated how little trust she had, even after they’d made love. Going forward, he had to include her in every decision. No more acting on his instincts without consulting her.

  She might not forgive him a second time.

  It was in his nature to be decisive, to act in her best interests. He had no doubt their views would likely differ on what was best from time to time. As long as she stood her ground and fought with him, he’d find a way to deal with any situation.

  She packed one hell of a punch.

  Rubbing his hand over his jaw, he grinned as his gaze fell on her swaying hips. He was more than ready to prove exactly what she meant to him, but the timing sucked. Making love would have to wait. Reaching down, he adjusted his dick.

  “You want coffee?” The pot he’d started was finished running through. Bast was nowhere to be seen. She’d likely retreated to one of the empty rooms, which she’d claimed as her domain. She was smart enough not to want to be around two squabbling wolves.

  “I’d rather have water. And speaking of which, I’ll be right back.” She went down the short hallway into the bedroom. Seconds later, the shower turned off.

  Deciding water sounded better, he grabbed two bottles out of the fridge and set them on the counter. “You hungry?” He was starving. Nothing like a tussle in the sheets and an argument to work up an appetite.

  “I’m not sure I could eat. Too much adrenaline making my stomach queasy. But you go ahead.” She grabbed one of the bottles and took a seat at the table.

  Rather than nag her about eating, he put a loaf of fresh multigrain bread on the counter and dragged sliced chicken, ham, cheese, mayo, and mustard out of the fridge. He’d make sandwiches so there was something ready if she got hungry.

  “I can text my dad. I’ll ask him to keep it to the original members of our pack.”

  After cracking open her water, she took several deep sips. “Tell me about him. I didn’t spend any time with my mother’s pack. I think there was a former alpha with the last name LaForge. That was before I was born. Any relation?”

  He laid out the bread in two long rows and began slathering mayo on half. He put mustard on the others. “That would have been my grandfather. According to my father, a meaner son of a bitch never lived.”

  “Your grandfather used to be alpha?”

  “Yes.” Opening the chicken, he spread it over half the sandwiches. “My father and uncle Louis broke away and moved to North Carolina.”

  “That must have gone over well.” Her sarcastic tone made him grin.

  “They don’t talk about it, but my grandfather tried to kill both of them.” When he ran out of the chicken, he moved on to the ham, spreading it over the remaining bread.

  “Wow. And I thought my family history was fucked up.”

  “Let’s just say any reunions tended to be violent affairs.” Done with the meat, he layered on thick slices of Swiss cheese. “Can I go ahead and send that text?”

  The bottle of water was cradled between her hands. She rolled it back and forth, her gaze on it and not on him.

  He slowly set down the knife he was using. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

  “If I do this, everything changes.”

  Going over to the table, he waited until she swiveled around to face him and cupped her cheek. “Sweetheart, it already has.”

  A ragged shudder tore through her and she nodded. “Do it.”

  Before she changed her mind, he retrieved his phone and sent off the quick text. Before he could tuck it away, it dinged. He checked the message. “Ah, he’d already called them together to talk. They’re all there.” Rather than make the decision, he opened his contacts list and set the phone down in front of her. “Just click on ‘Dad’ when you’re ready.”

  She stared at the device like it was a poisonous snake about to bite, or maybe a delicate explosive about to detonate.

  One of the hardest things he’d ever done was to walk back to the counter and finish making sandwiches. This was one decision he couldn’t and wouldn’t make. It had to be her choice.

  Tops on the sandwiches, he cut them in half, piled them on a plate, and set them on the table. Not bothering with individual plates, he tore a couple of pieces of paper towel off the roll and folded them in half—one for her and one for him—before joining her.

  Grabbing her water, she chugged it like it was medicine. Or maybe it was more like whiskey. An air of desperation clung to her, like she was a gunslinger getting ready for a showdown at high noon. This was a woman at the end of her rope.

  “Jesse.” Before he could finish whatever brilliant thing he’d been planning to say to make her feel better, she pressed the button. It rang once.

  “We’re all here.” His father’s deep voice filled the room. Jesse scooted her chair back a few inches, frowned, and then moved it closer. Pride filled him. His woman never backed down.

  “Jesse and I are here. I figured it was easier if everyone listened in so she only has to go through this once. Jesse, this is my father, Jacque LaForge.”

  “Jesse Broussard.” She spoke directly to his father, her voice calm. You’d never say she was nervous, but he could see it in the slight flaring of her nostrils and the tightening at the corners of her eyes.

  “Lottie Broussard raised you?”

  At the slightly skeptical tone, her shoulders straightened. “Not like she had much of a choice. My mother died after bringing me there hours after giving birth. I suppose Lottie could have given me to my sire to dispose of or tossed me to the gators, but for some reason she kept me.”

  Awed, Aaron rocked back in his chair. Very few dared challenge his father in such a direct manner. It wasn’t that she was fearless. It was that she’d spent so much of her life afraid that fear was an old and familiar friend, one she’d learned to live with.

  His father chuckled. “You certainly sound like her.”

  “Did you know her?” Leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the table.

  “I don’t think anyone truly knew Lottie. She was an enigma. I hid on her land once when I was a boy. Must have been eight or ten at the time. My father came looking for me, but she ordered him away. First time I’d ever seen the old man back down from anyone. Impressed the hell out of me. She knew I was there, but she never told.”

  Jesse nodded, the strain in her eyes lessening. “She could be unpredictable.”

  “That she could. Aaron said your mother’s last name was Theriot. What was her first?” The abrupt change of topic didn’t faze Jesse. She glanced at him and then back at the phone.

  “Her name was Marie Theriot.”

  “Little Marie Theriot. I remember her. She was quiet and kept to herself. Didn’t know her well. Her father ruled their family with an iron fist.”

  “That never changed. They abandoned her when she got pregnant.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but I can’t say I’m surprised.” There was a slight pause. “Why did your sire not mate her?”

  “He was already mated with two daughters. He wanted a son and thought another female might be able to give him one.”

  “Merde,” his father muttered. “That is … unfortunate.”

  Her laugh was filled with old pain. “That’s one way of putting it. From what I learned over the years, my mother lived in a shack on the edge of the swamp, away from the pack. My sire gave her enough food to keep her alive, but she was on her own.”

  “That is not the way it is meant to be. For that, I am sorry.”

  “Me, too, but it doesn’t change a damn thing.”

  Appetite gone, Aaron shoved his chair closer and wrapped his arm around her. She leaned into him, letting him support her. He wanted to take away all her sorrows, but no one could do that. And the pain, as much as the joy in life, was what a made a person who they were.

  “Who was your sire? And why would he be trying to kill you all these years later?”

  She tilted her head back and looked up at Aaron. “I didn’t tell him the details of your story,” he told her. He didn’t care that the others could hear their private conversation. “It’s up to you how much you share.”

  “Aaron says I can trust you. If I’m wrong, I’m dead. My sire viewed me as a mistake. There was no way to keep the truth from his family, especially not after I survived. Even though I remained within the confines of Lottie’s land, word got out. People came to Lottie, asking for everything from healing to love spells. She always hid me away when company came, but when I was five, a pack female saw me. That led to questions and the logical conclusion.” She took another drink and licked her lips.

  “I was a stain on his reputation. I won’t say honor, as he has none. I was another reminder he has no son, will never have one. He tried to lure me away once. I was about thirteen and curious about him. If not for Lottie, he’d have killed me. After her death, I had no protection, so I ran.”

  “You’re sure he’s after you?” Jacque asked.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve narrowly avoided him or one of his cronies on a couple of occasions. They have humans helping them.”

  Several growls could be heard in the background. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Anger vibrated in his father’s voice, the same that lived inside Aaron.

  “A dedicated group. They call themselves witch hunters. One of them caught up with me outside Nashville awhile back. After I avoided a knife in my back, I persuaded him to talk to me.”

  The idea of her having to deal with a fanatical killer made him crazy. Yes, she was more than capable of handling the situation. But she shouldn’t have to. His claws slid from his fingertips. He willed them away and concentrated on her story.

  “Every time there’s a sighting, he gets contacted. They have a hacker who has serious skills. He’s able to tap into cameras. That’s the only way they can track me as I use cash and work under the table and don’t own any electronics.”

  “Who is he?” Command pulsed through each word. This was no longer Aaron’s father speaking. This was the alpha.

  She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Alain Rollins.”

  A litany of curse words came over the line and not from his father. Aaron was shocked into silence. Holy shit, she was related to Gator Rollins, one of the original five members of the Salvation Pack, and one of his father’s best friends.

  “Chère,” a different male voice said softly, the accent thickened by anger. “You need to come to Salvation as soon as you can pack. Aaron, you pack that girl up and you bring her here. If that bastard shows his face, I’ll kill him.”

  “You’ll have to wait in line.” It was time he staked his claim. “Jesse is mine to protect.” Dead silence. The men had to be stunned, but so was Jesse. It was almost comical the way her jaw dropped. “What?” he asked her. Using his forefinger, he pushed her mouth closed. “Did you think I was kidding when I said you were my destiny?”

  Choosing to ignore his declaration for the moment—he had no doubt she’d give him hell when she hung up—she asked the last speaker, “Who are you? And why would you kill the bastard?”

  “My name is Gator Rollins. I’m your uncle.”

  Chapter Eight

  She would have fallen off the chair if Aaron hadn’t caught her. “Uncle?” Her voice rose with panic.

  “Chère, be calm. I have not spoken to my brother since I broke with the pack. You are family, not him.”

  “Why?” It made no sense. “He’s your blood. Your brother.” Her head was spinning, her heart racing.

  “Blood doesn’t make a family. Shared values and loyalty, blood and sweat shed in battle, and hard work are what form unbreakable bonds. I would never allow any female to be hunted. That is a crime punishable by death. That he abandoned you, that the pack allowed it, is a testament to how little honor they have. Plus, the boy has claimed you, has he not?” The teasing caught her off guard. Her entire world had come to a screeching halt when she’d met Aaron and was now spinning in a completely different direction.

  “That’s enough for now. She needs to eat and rest and process all of this.” Normally, she’d be all over Aaron for making decisions for her. Now, she was grateful she didn’t have to make any. “Jesse?”

  He was waiting for her agreement. See, you could teach old dogs new tricks. Although he wasn’t that old. And she was losing it. Was it only a few hours ago, they’d had sex. Made love, she corrected. A day ago, she’d been alone. Now she had a lover and an uncle, not to mention a group of unknown people who seemed to want to help her. Her life was out of control, events moving at the speed of light.

  She nodded.

  “Text details of that human group. I’ll get Armand on it,” Jacque instructed. Aaron sounded a lot like him.

  “I’ll send it along. Talk later. Love to Mom.” He ended the call and pocketed his phone. “Eat or sleep.”

  God, she wanted sleep more than anything, but her stomach was hollow. She needed to build her strength up to be able to face what lay ahead. She took a sandwich from the pile on the plate and bit into it. She had no idea if it was chicken or ham and didn’t care. It filled a hole. If she focused on chewing methodically, she didn’t have to think about anything else.

  “Sweetheart?”

  She shook her head, afraid if she opened her mouth she’d either scream or cry. Neither would be pretty. After swallowing, she finally asked, “Who’s Armand?” That was a name she didn’t recognize.

  “Armand LaForge. He’s my dad’s cousin and one of the original members of the pack. He’s our computer expert.”

  What was one more person digging into her past with everything else that was going on? She was in this now, come what may, including a previously unknown relative.

  I have an uncle.

  It boggled her mind. She’d never had family before. Not any that would claim her. It took forever for her to get that one bite down. “You’re sure—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “You’re sure he won’t contact his brother?”

  Aaron had retaken the chair beside her, not eating, simply watching her and waiting. “Yes.”

  Strangely enough, his abrupt answer helped settle her nerves. “Tell me about him.”

  “Gator?” He leaned an elbow on the counter, resting his head against his fist. “He’s badass. Like you, he has tattoos.”

  “Really?” She dropped the sandwich, unable to risk a second bite. Her stomach was one big knot.

  “He has stylized wolves and some crazy designs covering both his arms.” Aaron lazily slipped his forefinger under the short sleeve of her shirt and ran it around the band circling her bicep. “When did you get yours?”

  It was ridiculous. He was touching her with one fingertip. One. And she was ready to melt into a puddle at his feet. The back-and-forth motion was almost hypnotic.

  “Jesse?”

  “I was fifteen. Lottie did them.” Easing away, she shoved both sleeves up to her shoulders to fully expose the black symbols. “You never mentioned them before.” And he’d seen her naked.

  His large shoulders rose and fell when he shrugged. “Figured you’d tell me about them when you were ready. Besides, there hasn’t been much time to talk. We’ve been busy. The symbols are unusual. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

  Ignoring the heat climbing up her face, she tried not to think about what had kept them busy. The gulp of water did nothing to cool her down. “Ah, it’s actually a language, according to Lottie. I can’t read it, and she wouldn’t teach me.” That had hurt her to her core. “It’s the language of witches, at least from her family line. She was the last. Maybe. She never talked about any relations.” She yanked her sleeves back down, wishing they were long enough to completely cover the markings. “Anyway, they’re supposed to protect me. Meant a lot that she cared enough to worry.”

  “They’re beautiful and meaningful.”

  Needing to change the subject before she sank too deep into the morass of the past, she blurted, “Will your father tell your alpha about me?” Something she should have asked before opening up her mouth.

  Aaron rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, about that.”

  The lightbulb went off in her head and she groaned. His grandfather had been an alpha. His father and his four friends had been strong enough to break away from their pack and form their own. They’d all been there and let Jacque LaForge speak for them. The only time he’d been interrupted was by her uncle. Seemed Aaron came by his bossiness honestly.

  “Your father is the alpha?” Laughter spilled out of her mouth. Her life was like a bad comedy—if the lead character was a werewolf who had a pack of killers and some human witch hunters after her. “Of course, he is. Your father wouldn’t be a nice ordinary mechanic or carpenter.” She swiped at the tears seeping out of her eyes.

  “Oh, I don’t know, chère. He’s handy with a wrench and a hammer, but he’s hell on wheels at investing.”

  “Brawn and brains. Impressive.” Just like Aaron. Seeing him shirtless, in jeans that had tiny rips from age and wear and not fashion dictates, he was as far from a lawyer as she could imagine.

  “You got that right. An idiot can fight. If you want to win, you need to use your brain.”

  “Lottie always said the heart was where the most powerful magic in the world resided. Intent and emotion were what mattered most.”