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ENDER

She was in my space. Invading it. Infecting it with her scent. Wildflowers and rain. So strong now I wondered if I’d ever be able to get it out.

Wren’s jaw went slack, her eyes widening as she gripped the arrow tighter. As if that would save her. “I, um, would you believe that Princess asked me in?”

I sent my cat a sidelong look. She licked her paw, looking pleased as punch with herself.

“Cats don’t speak,” I growled.

Wren arched a brow at that. “Yours certainly does. She made it very clear what she wanted.”

My back teeth ground together because I knew damn well Wren was right. Princess had a way of expressing her every want and need.

A smile spread across Wren’s face. “And what Princess wanted was to show me her house. You built her a cat castle. Or should we call it a pussy palace? That kind of has a ring to it, don’t you think, Cat Daddy?”

I glared at the woman who’d done nothing but get under my skin for the past two weeks. Every contact I’d reached out to about her had come up empty. It was as if Wren didn’t exist at all.

I repeatedly reminded myself that her ghost status meant she couldn’t be trusted, but I feared it was too late. My brothers had all melted for her. Even Brix, the last person I would’ve thought would soften for anyone.

Shifting uncomfortably, I kept right on glaring at the bane of my existence. “She needs mental and physical stimulation. This structure gives her that.”

Wren’s smile only widened, and fuck if that didn’t hit me somewhere in the vicinity of my chest. I’d seen her cast a quick grin at one of my brothers but not smile full-out like this. It was devastating. The kind of beauty that could bring a man to his knees. Maybe it was designed that way.

“You researched cat physical and mental health, didn’t you?” she asked.

My glare only intensified because she was fucking right. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Wren shrugged, keeping hold of the arrow she’d stolen . “I like your cat. She tells me you aren’t the supreme ruler of all evil. At least, not all the time.”

My wolf growled. He loved the female’s fire, her feistiness. He had no patience for weakness or fear, and this wolf showed neither. “You don’t know me,” I said, my voice dropping low.

Wren simply stared back in challenge. “No, I don’t. But you don’t know me either.”

Something about those words got my wheels turning, an idea springing to life. “You’re right.”

She blinked at me, shock evident in her expression. “I’m sorry. Did you just say I was right?”

“Don’t get used to it,” I clipped, striding toward the wall of bows. “You ever shoot one?” I asked, inclining my head toward the arrow in her hand.

“No, I?—”

“Want to learn?” I grabbed two bows from the wall, my smallest for her, and my favorite custom piece for myself.

“Did aliens invade? Are you actually a pod person? Where’s asshole Ender, and what did you do to him?”

I sent her a droll look. “No body snatching or anal probing today. I just realized you have a point. I don’t know you at all. Maybe we should change that,” I said, holding out the bow to her.

Maybe I would learn something that would give me answers to who this charlatan truly was.

“You want to focus on both the target and the arrow. Let yourself see both at once,” I instructed.

We’d made our way to my targets at the back of the property. At least there was fresh air out here to dilute her scent. But I’d found it wasn’t just Wren’s aroma affecting me. It was everything about her.

The sound of her voice. The curiosity in her questions. The determination she had in every task that lay before her.

“Are you trying to make me go cross-eyed? I can’t look at two things at once,” Wren bit out.

I had to swallow my laughter. Definitely fiery. “You can. Open your vision. See everything around you. The trees, the targets, the forest floor, your bow, the tip of your arrow. Let it all in.”

Wren inhaled, and I watched as she centered herself, trying to do exactly as I’d instructed.

“Now, release,” I ordered.

Her fingers let go of the grip she had on both the bowstring and the arrow’s nock. The projectile hurtled toward the target with enviable speed for a beginner and hit the target four rings out from the center .

I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “See, hold it all at once and look what you get.”

Wren let out a huff of frustration as she stalked toward the target to pull her arrow free. “I guess it’s better than hitting dirt,” she muttered.

I studied her as she stomped back to me. I didn’t see her demeanor as an act, but I could be wrong. This could all be a woven facade to pull me in. Either way, I’d let her believe she’d ensnared me.

“You know, most people who pick up archery would be thrilled to hit the target on day one.”

Wren’s turquoise gaze flicked to me. “I guess I’m not most people.”

I moved in closer, trying to ignore the scent of wildflowers teasing my nostrils. My wolf wanted to play with the female. He wanted to tease, toy with, and bite . That was inconvenient. And he would just have to deal with disappointment.

My gaze raked over Wren’s face, studying it, ready to grasp any tiny reaction. “Why are you so hard on yourself?”

Defiance flickered in those captivating eyes. “I’m not naturally strong, not born dominant. It means I have to work ten times harder than anyone else to get that way.”

My brows lifted in surprise. The first two statements weren’t exactly a shock. As fiery as Wren was, I knew her wolf wasn’t dominant. But that last revelation? That was interesting.

“And why do you need to be that way?” I asked, my voice smooth as silk, trying to lull her into an honest answer.

Wren lifted her chin. “So I don’t get dead.”

I chuckled, the sound breaking free without my permission. “Not getting dead is as good a goal as any.”

Her lips twitched. “I am partial to breathing.”

Gods, those lips. They were stained a deep shade of pink as if she’d been eating berries in the forest all day, and plump as if she’d been kissing for hours. Who knew? Maybe she and Locke had been doing just that in the early hours of the morning. He’d certainly looked pleased with himself when he exited her room.

My back molars ground together as jealousy flared. Fast on its heels came annoyance, then anger. “Again,” I gritted out.

Wren lifted her bow and nocked the arrow as if she’d been doing it for months instead of minutes.

“Wait,” I commanded. She stilled, and I stepped in closer. Fuck. I was drowning in wildflowers now. My fingers grazed her elbow. The skin was so soft. But I saw hints of those scars peeking out from under her tee.

I swallowed hard, trying to focus. “Lift your elbow. You form one long line. See?” I traced my finger from her elbow to her knuckles, keeping my touch featherlight.

Wren sucked in a breath, her head turning, and her gaze colliding with mine. Suddenly, a new scent teased the air, one that had my wolf growling with pleasure. Her need. I could smell it clear as day, and every part of me wanted more.

“Shoot the arrow, Little Warrior,” I growled, the nickname so goddamn fitting.

Her head jerked back to the target, and she let the arrow fly. It hit center mass.

“I think that’s enough for today.” I stalked off without another word, too afraid I’d end up fucking Wren against a tree if I stayed. I’d likely get a blade in the back as a thank you . But some part of me wondered if it’d be worth it.