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She was tempted to give him a smack. How could he take a nap after dropping that bombshell? But strange as it was, feeling his chest rise and fall slowly under her hand and the way his face regained its boyish charm as it relaxed… it softened her stress too.
What did it matter, if she had fallen for a werewolf? A Valàfrn man. Of course, she wouldn’t know what that would mean for the future. How could she? There was still so much to learn about him and his people. Magic for God’s sake. It was too much.
But at least she wasn’t facing it alone this time.
Chapter Fourteen
Zeven came alert the second he heard the click.
Not that he’d been very deeply asleep. But with the comfort of Harley’s warm body curled against his own he’d stayed in the bed and soaked up the strange new feelings.
He freed himself from her arms and shifted to his wolf form before silently moving toward the front door where the click had come from. He crept through the few remaining scattered books and paused behind the sofa. The clicking of the lock-pick stopped. The door handle turned silently, barely visible in the dark room.
Two people were on the other side of the door. The scents were both Valàfrn males, both young. One was cocky and dominant, and the other stank subtly of fear and submission.
The door opened just enough for both men to slip inside, then it closed again. Even in the dim light he could tell they were young, probably not much more than twenty or thirty years old. Their bodies might make them adults but for his kind they were barely more than kids. Maybe they’d just look around and then leave. If not… then maybe, he could scare them off without killing them.
“Hell of a fight here,” whispered one.
“Be quiet…” The other was more cautious, moving toward the edge of the room.
They weren’t leaving. Their coming inside put Harley in danger. He didn’t regret forcing her to stay here as long as he had, but it looked like he was out of time. Once he got this settled, hopefully without spooking her, then they’d have to leave. He kept himself facing the two and with his back to the hall as he stepped into sight with a low growl.
Shit, it was a mistake.He never made stupid mistakes like this, but the moment he’d revealed himself, he’d recognized the error. He should have just killed them, silently to minimize the risk.
The males both jerked in surprise. One withdrew a pistol and the other pulled out a knife.
Son of a bitch.That would be mistake number two. He was unarmed. His holster and pistols were both still lying on the floor beside Harley’s bed. What the fuck had he been thinking? Well, he still had teeth, which should be plenty enough for these two. His hackles rose as he turned on the closer of the males with the dominant snarl of an alpha protecting his mate.
The smaller one with the gun scrambled backward. The gun hand shook but the boy raised it vainly in an attempt to take aim.
Zeven leapt to the sofa and threw himself at the gun wielding punk. His weight took them both to the floor with a crash. The stupid kid blocked his bite with a raised forearm, rather than use the gun he held.
His teeth tore into the kid’s arm with a snarl of satisfaction. The taste of blood and flesh briefly blinded his senses. The gun fell away, and the kid screamed.
Then Zeven realized mistake number three. He’d left the stronger of the two punks behind him with a knife. Pain followed the knife blade as it cut into him. It had been a long time since he’d had a blade in the back. Ten long years but the memory was sharp and clear.
Zeven felt the knife and turned on the circle of betraying clan members. No, not betraying…challenging. The old one was dead at his feet. The others would now want to kill him and take leadership. None of them would allow an omega to become their clan alpha.
His wolf spirit knew that truth as deeply as he did. It didn’t want to fight back against the others. But just like him, it was willing to risk everything to protect Harley.
He shifted to human form and growled at Jaquin standing with the rest of the clan at his back. The knife slash might be considered rude, but since it’d been little more than an attention getter, no one would call insult. Zeven balanced warily. He wanted to say, I don’t want to fight you, but the words would have been pointless.
He respected Jaquin and thought he would make a better leader than the old one, but there was no rule that would allow him to just submit. The only possibility was if Jaquin put him down and chose not to kill him. He might. Jaquin was usually fair and certainly stronger.
But would Jaquin be willing to stop hunting for Harley? Could he risk trusting him? Once he fell in this battle, would he have time to beg for Harley’s life?
They both shifted back to wolf form, launching simultaneous attacks. The fight was a blur of motion, violence and pain. After several minutes, Zeven was surprised to be holding his own. The killing of the old one had been based on catching him off guard. But now facing Jaquin, he should have lost all advantage.
He’d expected to be taken down, submitted or killed and instead he was on his feet circling with the big wolf. Was that respect he saw in Jaquin’s eyes? Perhaps there was a chance he’d survive this challenge after all.
That was when the rest of the clan broke tradition and entered the fray. The sudden surging attack was focused more on Jaquin than Zeven but together they fought back against the dozen bloodthirsty wolves.
Then Jaquin fell…
* * *
Jose had watched Hugo and Cordero approach the doctor’s house. He’d watched but he hadn’t stopped the boys, because just as he’d stood, Sheila’s collar had awoken and shocked him unconscious.
