Page 32 of Broken Wolf Heart (Mafia Pack #3)

GREY

T he drive takes longer than I want it to.

Not because of traffic but because I’m impatient.

Lexi sits beside me in the passenger seat, quiet and tense.

I see her worry in how she fidgets with her hands, the way her eyes dart to mine like she’s making sure I’m real, like maybe she’s still convincing herself she didn’t just risk her life and mine on a live stream.

I’m proud of her. So fucking proud. But I’m also aware of how much this cost us.

What my father tried to do… what she just did in return…

How fragile the future feels. Her energy is fraying at the edges, like a candle burning at both ends.

I can feel it in the tether that connects us.

I can feel it in my wolf too—how he paces, alert, even though danger isn’t imminent in this very moment.

Like he knows what comes next is just as important as the war we’ll fight eventually.

The dark creature that rose in me at the warehouse hasn’t been back.

I have no idea what it was or how it took me over like that.

I was my wolf…but not. And the theories I’ve been wrestling with about how to explain the foreign feeling of it all would make me sound crazy if I said them out loud.

So, I’ve ke pt them to myself. Haven’t even told Dutch or the others.

Because what I felt like in that moment was Franco.

“Where are we going?” she asks, finally breaking the silence.

“You’ll see.”

She rolls her eyes and looks damn cute about it. “That’s not an answer.”

I smirk. “I know.”

She huffs, but it’s affectionate. She’s used to my evasions by now.

I spend a few miles making sure we aren’t followed.

Then, I head for the highway. Just before we exit the city limits, I turn off the main road and wind down a narrow two-lane drive flanked by old-growth trees.

Spanish moss dangles from the limbs like nature’s curtains, and late-afternoon sunlight flickers through in soft, golden patches.

There’s no street sign. No mailbox. Just a barely-there gravel path tucked behind a rusted gate that blends so well into the underbrush, you’d miss it if you didn’t know where to look.

Lexi leans forward in her seat then shoots me a dubious look. “This looks like a murder road.”

I laugh. “I think you’ll change your mind in a minute.”

I pull up to the gate and type in the code.

A second later, it swings open with a low creak.

The gravel crunches beneath the tires as we make the slow climb up a wooded incline.

At the top, the trees open to reveal a small, stone-front cottage with blue shutters and a porch swing that moves in the breeze.

Faint smoke curls from the chimney like the place is already waiting for us.

Thanks to Dutch, who better fucking be long gone now.

Lexi stares at the house.

“What is this place?” she whispers.

I kill the engine.

“It’s ours,” I say, turning toward her. “I bought it under a fake name, paid cash. No one knows it’s here. Not Vincenzo. Not our packs. Not even Dutch—well, until today.”

Her eyes widen. “You’ve had this… how long?”

“A few weeks. I found it right after the engagement party.”

When I knew I’d fallen in love with her.

Emotion flickers in her eyes, but she pushes the door open and climbs out without a word. I follow.

Inside, the house is all honey wood floors and creamy walls.

Low beams cross the ceiling, and the living room has a plush sectional sofa big enough for both of us to sprawl out together.

There’s a fireplace. A real one. And a kitchen with copper pans and stone counters and light streaming in through windows that look out into the wooded backyard.

Lexi runs her fingers over the back of the couch like she’s not sure any of this is real.

“What are you thinking?” I ask when I can’t wait any longer.

She looks up at me, her lips curving. “This couch is a lot nicer than the one we met on.”

I grin. “Thought about going back to Shady’s and making him an offer.”

“Is that why you brought me here? Hoping for another lap dance?”

Her question, and more specifically, my answer, sobers me. “I brought you here because you deserve to feel safe somewhere in the world.”

She blinks then looks away, but not before I glimpse tears brimming in her eyes.

“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” I tell her softly. “You don’t even have to move in. I just wanted you to know it’s here. A place that’s yours. Ours.”

A place we call home.

I don’t say the last part. Mostly because Lexi is my home, and that has nothing to do with walls or a roof. But I know she doesn’t feel comfortable at Franco’s, and truth be told, neither do I.

She turns to me slowly. “Show me the rest?”

I nod and lead her through the house.

There are two bedrooms, both already furnished.

The one I’ve mentally marked as ours has a king-sized bed covered in bright throw pillows (a nod to how much Lexi seemed to light up at Mia’s bright-ass apartment) and a bay window seat overlooking the side yard.

White curtains frame the French doors that lead straight out to the backyard.

She arches a brow at me. “Is this the guest room?”

“I thought this might be our room.”

She gives a mock gasp. “No monotones this time? How will you manage to sleep in here?”

“Smartass,” I say wryly, swatting her ass. “Besides, I don’t plan to do much sleeping in this bed.”

She grins and goes back to exploring the room.

A few books line the shelves—I stocked them with titles she’s talked about, ones I remembered her mentioning as being better than the movies. Her black duffel sits on the bench at the foot of the bed.

I don’t mention it.

She notices, though.

She reaches out and gently touches the bag. “Is this…?” She looks up at me sharply. “You said we couldn’t go back to the penthouse now that— I thought I’d never see this stuff again.”

“I hid it at the warehouse before the wedding.”

Her throat works, but she doesn’t speak.

Instead, she walks to the French doors and pulls them open.

I follow her out to the deck where stepping stones lead to a grotto-style pool, a small waterfall spilling into it with a soothing rush.

A fence offers a sense of privacy, but it’s not necessary, considering the thick trees that press in on all three sides.

Or the fact that we’re miles and miles from the nearest neighbor.

Lexi gasps at the sight of the oasis. “This is…”

I grin. “There’s a hot tub, too, around the corner. But this felt more like you.”

She turns to me, eyes sparkling. “You did this for me?”

I step closer, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I did this for us.”

“Why the pool?”

I lean in, my voice low. “Because I like seeing you in a bathing suit. Especially that blue bikini you wore at Dutch’s.”

Her lips part, mischief dancing in her eyes. “You like seeing me naked more.”

“Obviously.”

She laughs, and it’s real and light, the tension melting from her shoulders. For the first time in a long time, I feel her relax in my arms. I hope that means this place will be a haven for us.

“Come swim with me,” she says, tugging on my hand.

And fuck if I can say no to that.

The sun’s almost down by the time we strip to our underwear and slip into the pool. The water is cool but not cold, a relief after the heat of the day. The waterfall splashes beside us, and the forest beyond the fence hums with cicadas and birdsong.

Lexi floats on her back, her hair fanning around her like a halo. I tread water nearby, arms resting on the rocks, watching her like I always do—like I can’t believe she’s real and mine.

She suddenly flips upright and swims toward me, water streaming down her face.

“What?” I ask, instantly wary of some threat.

She splashes water in my face.

I blink, stunned. “You did not just?— ”

Before I can finish, she’s swimming away, laughing.

I chase her, grabbing her waist beneath the water and pulling her back to me.

She squeals then gasps when I spin her to face me and pin her to the edge of the pool.

I realize I like this version of her—of us.

The playful, carefree version where we get to horse around in the pool.

I haven’t seen much of this side of her, but I’ll do just about anything to make her safe enough that I get more days like this.

“You’re in trouble,” I murmur.

Her eyes sparkle at my threat. “I regret nothing.”

I press her against the rock, my hips grinding into her and transforming this moment from playful to sexual because damn if I can stop myself. Her legs wrap around me without hesitation, her hands slick against my shoulders.

I dip my head and kiss the hollow of her throat, noting her pulse beating strong like a siren call for my wolf.

She’s breathless now. “Grey…”

I raise my head. Her eyes are dark, dilated, lips parted. So fucking beautiful it makes my chest ache.

“What is it?” I ask softly.

“Are you okay?” she asks, concern in her expression. “With everything that’s happening to you. With your wolf? Is this okay, I mean?”

My fingers tighten on her hips, and my erection strains against my boxers. “This is exactly what I need, princess. You anchoring me by giving me your body. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Her answer is breathless.

Concern melts into need. I know because I can scent it, and I nearly groan at how delicious her need is.

She looks like she might say more, but I shut her up with a kiss. Slow and deep. I pour everything into it. Every shattered piece of me that she held together these past few days. Every breath I’ve taken since meeting her that has only been because of her existence and presence in my life .

When I pull back, I press my forehead to hers. “My wolf needs this, Lex. You’re the only thing that keeps him strong enough to fight this darkness.”

Her breath hitches. “My wolf feels the same way.”

“I don’t want distance from you,” I say, my hands roaming over her smooth, wet skin. “I want to be buried in you. I want to feel you everywhere until I don’t know where I end and you begin.”

Lexi rocks her hips against me. “I want that too,” she whispers.

That’s all the permission I need.

We stumble inside, dripping wet, a tangle of limbs and mouths. My desire to take her right there in the pool is overwhelmed by the need to taste her on my tongue.

Just inside the bedroom, her bra peels away easily, and I drop to my knees to drag her soaked panties down her thighs, licking the drops of water from her skin as I go.

She grips my shoulders for balance, one foot braced on the wall, and when I dip my head between her legs and run my tongue along her center, she moans so loud it echoes through the empty house.

“Grey—”

Her hand tangles in my hair, pulling me tighter against her.

Fine by me. I could die right here and be perfectly happy about meeting my end.

So, as she moans my name, I don’t stop. I devour.

I worship. I work her clit with slow, circular pressure, then faster, then slower again until she’s shaking against the wall, panting, pleading.

When I push a finger inside her, she comes on my tongue with a cry, her entire body trembling.

I rise and scoop her into my arms. She buries her face in my neck as I carry her to the bed.

I drop her onto the comforter, scattering half a dozen pillows to the floor, and follow her down, my hands sliding over her curves, over her hips and breasts.

I bite her shoulder, her collarbone, the inside of her thigh.

“I need you inside me,” she whispers, voice hoarse, eyes unfocused.

She looks like a wet dream lying here spread out for me, her hair splayed against the bedsheets. A dream I never want to wake from again.

I sheath myself and slide into her slowly, both of us gasping at the stretch, the way her body clenches around me like she was made to take me.

We find our rhythm easily. Naturally. Like wolves running in sync. She meets me thrust for thrust, her nails digging into my back, her eyes locked on mine.

She’s not afraid. Not of my wolf. Not of me. And that undoes me more than anything else ever could.

I shift slightly, angling deeper, hitting that spot that makes her eyes roll back. She clenches harder around my cock, breathless curses tumbling from her lips.

“You feel like fucking heaven,” I growl, thrusting harder, chasing that edge.

She shudders beneath me. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Never.”

She tightens around me again, her cries turning desperate.

With a final thrust, I push her over the edge, and she pulls me with her, both of us spiraling together in heat and light and every promise we wish we could make for our future.

Then I collapse in a satisfied heap beside her.

Later, when the only sound is our breathing, I pull her against me, her head resting on my chest.

Her fingers trace lazy circles over my skin.

“Is this house really ours?” she asks sleepily.

“Yes.”

She exhales, sinking deeper into my arms .

“I’ve never had a home before,” she murmurs.

I kiss the top of her head. “You do now.”

She lifts her head and kisses me softly, reverently. “So do you.”