Page 19

18

PUCK

I muttered a curse under my breath as I let go of Wren’s elbow. My palm still burned from where it’d made contact. It was as if the echo of that touch had a heartbeat. It thumped within my palm like a living, breathing thing.

“Did you hit your head?” I asked, forcing humor into my voice.

It was a prick move, denying what Wren had somehow seen. But I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t about to open up to her about all my wounds and scars. It was why I didn’t usually let women into that circle of trust. Which made it all the more confusing why I wanted Wren there.

She took a step back, shaking herself out of whatever stupor she’d been in. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Birdie—”

“Do you want to make the princess her club soda or what?” Wren cut me off as she dumped ice into all three tall glasses.

Fuck.

This wasn’t what I’d meant to do. But maybe it was for the best. Fucking things up meant creating a little distance so I could get my head on straight.

My wolf let out a snarl at the thought, letting me know how he felt about that plan. Hell. If my wolf wanted Wren close, I wouldn’t have a choice. And as much as I would’ve liked to believe Ender’s theory about Wren being here to destroy us all, it felt…wrong.

The same way Wren’s scent was wrong yet equally alluring. I pulled it into my lungs now, trying to use it to calm my wolf. It worked, but the bell rang before I could get out another word.

“Order up.”

“You tackle the drinks. I’ll get Locke’s lunch.” Wren was gone before I could agree or disagree.

I glared down at my cutting board, annoyed that Locke, the lucky bastard, was getting Wren’s attention. I went to work filling the Cokes, but when I got to the club soda, I was tempted to put jalapenos in it just to teach Cressida a lesson. I’d thought I made it clear that she and I weren’t going to happen, but apparently, that needed reinforcement.

I watched Wren effortlessly weave through the tables. She moved like a dancer full of grace, power and ease all in one potent package. As she slid the plate in front of Locke, he said something that made her laugh.

A wave of jealousy nearly stole my breath. Since when do I get jealous? My brothers and I shared women on a regular basis, and I’d never felt even a flicker.

Worry niggled. The fear that Wren could be a potential mate. But I reminded myself that I’d just touched her and felt no mating bond. I’d only felt the pull of attraction. She might be a potential mate, but she wasn’t a connection I’d be forced into. I still had my freedom.

I grabbed all three drinks and headed over to Cressida and her friends, placing the Cokes and her club soda on the table. “Cress, don’t pull that shit again. ”

Her green eyes flared in surprise. “Puck?—”

“I mean it. You’re welcome here, but that doesn’t mean you get to come in and play games. I told you it wasn’t going to happen again. Tried to be nice about it. But apparently, that wasn’t the play. It’s never going to happen again. And if you pull any more bullshit power moves with my staff, I’ll eighty-six your ass.”

Her jaw dropped open into a tiny O full of shock, but I didn’t wait for her to say anything. I just stalked away. The whole exchange had put me in a foul mood, and I knew I needed a run—in my wolf form. That always set me straight. But I wouldn’t have that option until late tonight.

“You okay?” Locke’s words gently prodded into my mind.

Our pack link allowed us to mind-speak with one another, but we didn’t make a habit of using it unnecessarily. There were too many ways it could expose our otherworldly gifts.

“Fine.”

“Puck, you can do many things but acting isn’t one of them.”

“Cressida’s annoying,” I finally admitted.

Locke let out a scoffing sound in my mind. “You’re just figuring that out?”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat your BLT and shut up.”

I kept an eye on Wren as she checked out two tables and took orders from a group of tourists. But I didn’t miss Cressida’s constant glares. I knew Wren could take her easily, but it didn’t stop me from being on edge.

“Got my drinks?” Wren asked, coming to the end of the bar.

I set the girls’ refills on her tray. “Here you go.”

“The fact that you haven’t asked me to marry you in the past hour is kind of freaking me out.”

My lips twitched. “Birdie, let’s run off to Vegas. Elvis can link us for all eternity.”

She snorted. “ Hound Dog does kind of seem like an appropriate theme song for you. ”

I let out a mock gasp and placed a hand on my chest. “Wren Delilah Archibald, how dare you?”

“That’s not my name, Casanova.”

I grinned at her. “I had to think up something on the fly.” And I couldn’t exactly admit that Locke had already run checks on the name she’d put on her rental agreement. Wren Harris—a person who didn’t actually exist.

“And you went with Archibald?”

“What’s wrong with Archibald?” I challenged.

Wren shook her head as she walked away. “You Brits are weird.”

“You mean adorable, right?”

Wren wove through the tables, checking on patrons as she made her way to Cressida’s group. When she got there, she deposited the two diets, but as she moved to grab the club soda, Cressida knocked the tray into her. Cressida tried to pretend it was an accident, but it was clear as day that she’d meant to do it.

Club soda drenched the front of Wren’s tee. Under normal circumstances, I might’ve commented about being grateful for the wet T-shirt contest, but I was too livid to find any humor in the situation.

I stalked around the bar just as Cressida looked up at Wren in fake apology. “I’m so sorry. I’m just the clumsiest.”

“No, what you are is a bitch,” I snarled.

Cressida gasped as her two friends paled. “Puck, it was an accident.”

“The hell it was. And I warned you. You pull bullshit again, and you’re gone. Congrats, you’re all banned.”

This time, her friends gasped. “Puck, don’t,” Dara begged. “You guys have the best cheeseburgers in town.”

“And are the only real bar within a thirty-mile radius,” Siena whined.

“Should’ve thought about that before you became friends with a snake,” I snapped .

“Puck, it’s fine,” Wren said, but I didn’t miss the slight tremble in her voice. It wasn’t fear, it was fury.

“The hell it is.” I turned to Cressida. “Leave. Now.”

She jutted out her chin. “We haven’t finished eating.”

“Too bad. Out, or I call the cops. You want to apologize and mean it? Maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“Come on, Cress,” Siena whispered, grabbing her purse, her cheeks reddening.

Cressida glared at me as she shoved her chair back. “You’ll regret this, Puck.”

“Doubt it,” I muttered.

The trio of women scurried out of the bar, and another customer started clapping. I turned slowly, taking in Wren. Her Arcane tee was soaking wet, and she held her tray in front of herself like some sort of shield.

Fuck.

“You realize this is a mess of your making.”

I sent Locke a glare over my shoulder and then turned back to Wren. “Come on, I’ve got extra shirts in the office. Locke, you’re on duty.”

“Uh, you know that’s gonna be a disaster, right?” he called after me. I just flipped him the bird in answer.

I guided Wren down the hallway but was careful not to touch her, remembering the incident the first day we met. My back teeth ground together, and anger at myself surged. I opened the door and gestured her inside.

Wren’s brow furrowed. “Won’t Dina be pissed that you’re making yourself at home in her office?”

A chuckle slipped free, the sound taking me by surprise. “It’s my office, Birdie.”

This time, her nose scrunched, the move incredibly adorable. “Your office…”

“Arcane is my bar.” I crossed to a sideboard, opened one of the cabinets, and grabbed a tee .

Wren’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again before any words came out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged and handed her the shirt. “You didn’t ask.”

She snatched it from my grasp, dropping her tray onto the couch along the wall. “Turn around,” she ordered.

“Bossy little thing. I like it.”

Wren sent me a pointed stare, and I held up both hands, doing as she instructed. I stared at the wall for a long moment, focusing on the painting hanging there. It was a play on that ridiculous dogs-playing-poker image, but instead of dogs, it was wolves.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. That never should’ve happened.”

Wren sighed. “Her actions aren’t on you. I might question your romantic choices, but…”

I scoffed and ran a hand through my hair, tugging on the strands. “Trust me, nothing about that was romantic.”

“I shouldn’t judge. A little hate sex can be a good release.”

Those words coming from her lips were so shocking that my gaze automatically moved over my shoulder. Wren was facing away from me, pulling the T-shirt over her head, but her back was completely on display.

A back riddled with scars. Different sizes and depths. Various stages of healing.

She’d been beaten. Tortured. Over and over again.

And I could only think one thing...

I was going to kill whoever had done it. And the death would not be quick.