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She poured a glass of cabernet sauvignon, then returned to the photo album and scattered pictures still sitting in front of her couch on the family room floor. The sight of them reminded her again of all that had happened in such a short time.
Her mind whirred, however, because her fae senses had locked onto Fergus’s shut-down, reflex process that had first alienated his wife, Sharon. And tonight, it had given Mary a powerful excuse to leave.
Reviewing what Ryan had told her, the issue seemed to be seated within Fergus’s initial rise to alpha level responsibility. That so many wolves had died on his watch must have affected his leadership, cementing his belief that while serving as an alpha, he didn’t dare focus on anything else or lives would be lost.
What Mary couldn’t quite figure out was where she fit into the equation. But she suspected that Fergus’s narrow focus, which had created the steel door in the first place, was preventing him from gaining a critical, larger view of his pack and his territory.
Now that she had some distance herself, she could take a long, hard look at everything, especially her role and what she wanted for the future. Savage was a brutal place to live and with all that she’d just been through, including saving Fergus from a witch’s spell, she had no reason to believe things would improve anytime soon.
Yet the project she’d started, of organizing her photos and creating an album featuring her family, no longer appealed as much as it had. With her sister killed accidently as a result of an out-of-control dominance fight, and her parents long dead, she was essentially alone in the world.
Her experience with both Warren’s wolves and the Gordion Pack had continuously soothed her emerging wolf. Now that she was back in Revel, she felt restless and uneasy.
As she finished her wine, she began packing up the photos. She might not be certain what her life should be, but right now making an album was not going to settle her restless wolf down at all.
Maybe she’d have another glass of wine.
Or three.
~ ~ ~
Fergus busied himself the rest of the night with taking stock of every member of his pack. He was planning a memorial service for Elena, the young female wolf who had committed suicide, and the ten wolves who’d gone berserk because of her desperate act.
At the same time, he began the process of negotiating the ransoms for the return of the women Sydon had already put to work in one of the cartel clubs. He’d have them home soon.
The whole time, he kept looking over his shoulder, though he couldn’t say why.
Harley finally asked, “Is there something you need to do? Do you want another guard on the door?”
“A guard? For what?” He had no idea what Harley was talking about.
“For the past quarter hour, you’ve looked toward the door every two minutes. Thought maybe you were worried about another attack.”
“No.” But he frowned. He honestly didn’t know why he kept checking the doorway.
Then it dawned on him. His wolf was looking for Mary, searching for her, but she wasn’t there anymore. It didn’t help that her scent was still in his nostrils.
His thoughts drifted toward her as he recalled having sex with her in real-time, while running beside her in the dreamglide. She’d brought so much to his life and he’d hated letting her go.
He gave himself a shake. He couldn’t afford to give in to desires that had no possible use in Savage Territory. Maybe he had built what Mary called a steel door, but he’d put it there for a reason. He’d needed to protect his pack while they’d been at war. Sharon had suffered because of it and he knew that. But he’d saved countless lives by centering his attention exclusively on the salvation of his wolves.
He forced himself to do so now. Sydon was still a serious threat he needed to address.
Summoning his top betas, he took them into his strategy room on the east side of the ground floor and settled in to discuss ways they could work to uncover the location of Sydon’s headquarters. He decided Sydon must be the priority and he would do everything he could to end the bastard’s destructive influence in Savage. There was no point pretending Sydon would go away all on his own, especially if he had no problem buying expensive, deadly spells to try to get rid of his enemies.
Both Fergus’s wolf and his fae were in complete agreement on that front.
The night finally drew to a close and at dawn, with his compound and attached home shuttered for the day, he made his way back to the guest room.
Unfortunately, he found all three lace negligees still hanging in the bathroom.
Without warning, a wave of grief washed through him so quick and so hard he weaved on his feet. He had to grab the counter to keep from falling over. He didn’t understand what had just happened. But the image that shot through his head had nothing to do with Mary but everything to do with Sharon the night before she died.
Fuck. He’d buried the memory. At the very least, he’d buried it, the way he did everything.
Sharon had dressed up in a sexy, skin tight black dress and had worn matching stilettos. She’d looked beautiful and he’d longed to take her in his arms, to hold her and to kiss her. But he couldn’t let her distract him from his duties or pack members would die.
So, he’d yelled at her, saying absurd things like she needed to be more modest, to set a better example for the other female wolves, things he didn’t even believe. He just didn’t want to be tempted away from his job.
