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1
There was an old saying, “better to be safe than sorry.” Whoever coined it had obviously never spent a week with William McGoven.
The man was anything but safe—and Loren found a strange peace in his wild nature. As far as the men in her life were concerned, he was a welcome anomaly. Violent and brutish, Fred Connors, her supposed father, had been ruthlessly predictable.
William McGoven, on the other hand, was an enigma. Frustratingly so. He single-handedly made decisions for her, only to claim, in the next breath, that she wasn’t his responsibility. He could be moody and unreadable, and so damn closed-off she could count his few facial expressions on her fingers.
She should have resented him and how confidently he’d inserted himself into her life—but anger wasn’t the feeling spreading through her chest whenever she saw him. Just confusion. Despite his gruffness, he was always there when she needed him the most.
And he hadn’t held that fact over her head. Nor did he ever ask for anything in return, other than her trust. All in all, he made for the perfect hero after the hell her life had become.
Until he kissed her. Not a chaste peck, either, but a wild assault she could feel the aftermath of days later.
No one could blame her if she claimed he’d taken advantage. But when she went over her own emotions, things weren’t so simple.
He kissed her, and there hadn’t been anything “weak” and “meek” about her reaction. Even now, a part of her demanded…something. Craved it from him alone. The actual name for it eluded her, but the more she tried to puzzle out an answer...
Her throat went dry. The thin material of her shirt irritated the skin beneath. It felt…too tight. Especially when she recalled the feel of his lips on hers.
Get a grip, Loren. You need to forget, a part of her insisted. Obviously, he’d gotten carried away. Adrenaline could make people do crazy things—like kiss traumatized teenage girls on impulse, apparently.
But what’s your excuse?she wondered. Looking back, she hadn’t been confused or conflicted. Definitely notsorry, either. Being with him had feltright—and that was the scary part.
“I think you might be wearing a hole through the marble—” She flinched as a hand came down to gingerly grab the cloth she’d been scrubbing the countertop with. “I’ll just put this over here,” Micha added, tossing the rag in the sink before she could protest.
They were in McGoven’s narrow kitchen. Wearing a mud-stained pair of sweatpants, Micha looked like he’d just come from outside and was in desperate need of a shower. Instead of rushing to change, he leaned against the fridge and crossed his arms. Despite the casual stance, his green eyes were unusually sharp, devoid of their playful gleam.
“You’ve been scrubbing the same spot for an hour.” He nodded to her wet, pruned fingers. “Wanna talk about it?”
Loren turned away, feeling her cheeks flame. He was right. While she couldn’t comment on the amount of time that had passed, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been more than an hour.
“Ignoring your problems isn’t healthy,” Micha playfully scolded. “You can talk to me, you know.”
With a sigh of defeat, Loren shrugged. True to his word, Micha didn’t look judgmental—merely exhausted. Mulling over the complexities of a kiss with him wasn’t very appealing, though. “Talk about what?”
“Everything.”
That word wasn’t vast enough to encompass the various dilemmas weighing on her mind,impromptu kiss aside. She still needed to reconcile what it meant to be lupine, not to mention her father’s death, and the question of her paternity. Add to that what happened with Naomi—according to Bill, she was home resting, but it was only a matter of time before she would return. Then what?
Loren couldn’t stop dwelling on the possibilities—and, so far, her usual method of distraction hadn’t worked. It was only mid-afternoon, and she’d cleaned the kitchen twice. Done the dishes and mopped up the mud stains by the front door. Wiping down the counters had been a last-ditch diversion.
It hadn’t worked. While she barely knew Micha, she was afraid she might explode if she didn’t talk tosomeone.
Meeting his stare, she blurted out the first question to come to mind. “What do you know about him?” A pointed glance toward the window, in the direction of the trees, conveyed just who she referred to.
“Bill?” Micha wrinkled his nose. “That depends on whatyouknow,” he muttered under his breath. “But, back where I’m from—the pack, I mean—he’s considered something of a legend.”
“A legend?” Loren had a hard time picturing it. Sure, McGoven was brave, and maybe a little larger-than-life at times, but he seemed way too closed-up to inspire any legendary tales. In fact, when he wasn’t sprouting black fur, he seemed boringly normal.
“Are you kidding?” Micha’s eyes widened, and his usual exuberance returned in full. “Yeah. He’s alegend. The young pup plucked from the crowd by the Alpha himself and groomed to lead. That’s almost unheard of. Even more insane was what happened in the end. The guy had everything and just walked away from it all… I never met him in person before a few days ago, though. Just heard the rumors.”
His cheerful grin fell flat. Going off his expression, those rumors weren’t all positive. Loren felt a twitch of apprehension run down her spine—quickly followed by a stronger sense of greed. She needed to know.
“What kind of rumors?” As she spoke, her gaze returned to the window, once again hunting for a head of dark hair among the endless green. In a few more hours, it would be exactly a full day that he’d been gone. Presumably, he was patrolling for danger, though Loren suspected his real motivation was far more trivial—he was avoiding her.
“Just…stuff,” Micha said, deliberately skirting the question. “Maybe, you should ask him?”
Ask him.Loren would have scoffed if she weren’t so tired. Last night, she’d had the longest conversation with the man since meeting him, and she felt more clueless than before.
