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“And what about the shifters? I don’t think they’ll like that you’ve used them.”
“I know.” She sighed, as if troubled. “I’m thinking it might be best if I act like I’m having second thoughts the night before the hearing. I could act afraid and stuff. Then they’ll just think I fell at the last hurdle. They’ll be upset and pissed, but not as much as they’d be if they found out how long it had been my intention to back down.”
He lifted his brows. “Sounds like a good plan.”
“It’s not a plan I intend to put into action until the Moores confirm they’ll keep my cooperation quiet.”
“They’ll be willing to do that.”
“Call them. Ask. I’m not saying a word until I have their agreement.”
He picked up his cell phone. “You’ll trust their word? They might not stick to their end of this bargain.”
“If they don’t, I can always change my mind again at the hearing. This is their one and only chance to gain my cooperation. They can take it or leave it.”
Colt swiped his thumb over the screen of his cell and then sank into his chair. “Hey, Ezra. I think you’ll be rather interested to hear who’s sitting opposite me right now. Gwen Miller.” Colt told him about her offer, advised him to take the deal. Then he held out the phone. “He’d like to speak with you, Gwen.”
She took the phone and, not bothering to greet the asshole on the other end of the line, simply said, “What?”
“I must admit,” began Ezra, sounded smug as fuck, “you took longer than I thought to fold—”
“I’m not folding, Moore,” she snapped. “I’m not doing this for, because of, or out of fear of you. You’re really not as special as you seem to think you are, so tone down the narcissism a little bit. I’m repaying a debt that I owe to someone else. But that arrogant tone of yours is pissing me off enough to reconsider just how important that debt is.”
There was a long pause, and she could almost sense him backing down. “I’ll agree to keep your cooperation quiet,” he said finally in a businesslike voice, all trace of smugness gone.
“Then it’s a deal.”
“It is. Take care, Miss Miller.”
She handed the phone back to Colt. “Ready when you are.”
He led her into a plain, basic interview room. The hard, plastic chair was as uncomfortable as they came, but she didn’t let her discomfort show.
“Would you like a coffee?” asked Colt. It was a genuine offer.
“No.” She rolled back her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.” She gave him a statement that corroborated Andie’s second one, said that she couldn’t be sure that Brandt hadn’t simply stumbled upon a hurt and bruised Andie, and that it was possible that he’d even been trying to help her.
After they were done, Colt walked with her to the reception area. “You did the right thing, Gwen. It’s not easy to back down. And it takes strength to back down from people you despise. You did the right thing.”
“Not the right thing.”
“The smart thing.”
Outside, Gwen headed straight to the SUV and slid onto the rear passenger seat. No sooner had she shut the door than Zander pulled her to his side and gave her a quick kiss.
“You okay?” he asked, smoothing her bangs out of her face.
“Better now that I’m out of there.” Even better now that they were driving away.
Zander massaged her nape. “Did he buy it?”
“Yep.” Her upper lip curled. “Ezra sounded like the cat that got the cream.”
Riding shotgun, Bracken twisted to look at her. “The lie will keep you safe.”
“For a while,” she said. “When I blurt out the truth before the council, things will go to shit fast.” Gwen turned to Zander. “You sure you want to stick around for that? Ow!” She rubbed at her scalp, scowling at the asshole for pulling her hair.
Zander put his face close to hers. “Then don’t ask stupid, bullshit questions. I’ll be at your side the entire fucking time.”
“So will I,” said Bracken.
“And me,” added Ally.
Derren glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Me too, Gwen.”
She swallowed hard. Their show of support might have been partly for Andie, but it still touched Gwen. Still meant a lot to her. She gave a nod of thanks, speechless.
Back at the house, she went upstairs, intending to take a relaxing bath. Zander followed her into her room and helped her undress. Somehow, they ended up in bed instead of the bath. Still, the result was the same—the tension left her muscles, and her mood lifted.
Afterward, as they lay in bed watching TV, Zander said, “You know, for someone who spends a lot of her time cleaning, you have a surprisingly messy room.”
Snuggled into his side, Gwen shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a rebel that way.”
The sound of the floorboards creaking above them made him frown. The person who stayed up there was constantly a noisy bastard. He knew none of his pack mates were up there. “Is that Marlon’s room?”
“No, he’s down the hall.”
“Yvonne’s?”
“Nope. Her room is near his.”
Unease slithered down Zander’s spine. Snorting at his body’s dumb reaction, he picked up the remote. “I’m turning over.”
“Hey! I want to see which pack she chooses!”
He sighed at her. “You do know that this movie is nothing like real life for shifters, don’t you? The pack dynamics, the mating bonds—the scriptwriters got it all wrong.”
Gwen rested her chin on his chest. “What are mating bonds like? I know they’re metaphysical and stuff, but that’s pretty much it.”
“I can’t really know what they feel like. I’ve never had one. I can only tell you what others have told me. A mating bond connects you to someone on a level that nothing else will. It’s intense. Powerful. It allows you to feel your mate. Feel their emotions, their pain. You can use the link to bolster their strength by pushing energy down the bond. Your scent mixes with theirs and becomes one unique scent. And if one dies, it’s very hard for the other to survive the breaking of the bond. But I’m told that the bond is special enough to be worth the risk.”
