Page 27 of Fae Devoted (Fae Touched #3)
T ucker breathed in the crisp pre-dawn air; the cooler weather of Northern Michigan was in stark contrast to an autumn in Memphis.
Kincaid’s isolated cabin with its proximity to the expansive state park was an ideal place for him and Jo to lie low.
If he could hold his shit together around the male his she-wolf once thought was a potential truemate.
It wasn’t a guarantee.
Taking another deep breath, Tucker concentrated on the peaceful sounds of the wind rustling through the nearby tree line, an owl’s sonorous hoots, and the white noise of nearby rushing water, all in the attempt to calm his wolf the fuck down.
Jo shifted from one foot to the other at his side, clutching and unclenching the necklace he gave her at Chess.
He knew Dylan Kincaid wasn’t the enemy, but her nervousness stirred his baser instincts.
Angling his body, Tucker crossed his arms and braced his legs apart in a protective stance in front of her before knocking again.
A loud thump from inside the cabin and the subsequent masculine curse sharpened Jo’s already spicy scent to a pungent black pepper. The prospect his she-wolf might have lingering feelings for this male formed a tight band around his ribcage.
A few seconds later, the dark-haired male Tucker met in Samuel’s office over a year ago stood in the dim backlight of the open doorway.
“Beta Tuck—” The muscular Ferwyn’s gaze flew to the anxious female standing behind his right shoulder. “Johnnie? What are you doing here?”
A growl built in the depths of Tucker’s throat as Jo’s scent spiked yet again.
At his guttural rumble, Kincaid’s gaze snapped to Tucker, then swung back to Jo. Nostrils flaring, he zeroed in on her shoulder and the recent bite hidden beneath her blouse. Awareness widened his eyes, and his chin dropped to his chest, correcting the unintentional break in protocol.
The first two Mating Marks used to determine compatibility weren’t treated lightly due to the restrictions they placed on both Dancing parties.
The societal constraints that always chafed their females and often inflamed a Ferwyn male to act unreasonably contributed to the lightning-speed courtships and short durations between one Mark and the next—if there was a next—for prudence’s sake.
“Jacob,” Jo hissed after enduring several seconds of uncomfortable silence, the smell of unease replaced with annoyance.
Tucker took his sweet time unfolding his arms, then pulled Jo into his side. Kincaid’s fingers twitched, but his eyes remained dutifully downcast.
Jo’s elbow jabbed into Tucker’s stomach.
“You know my she-wolf.” He emphasized the my in the customary introduction of a female in the midst of the Mating Dance to an unmated Ferwyn male. “Joan Long.”
Kincaid’s head rose before he finished stating her last name. “I can’t believe it’s you. I thought I’d never see—”
“Samuel gave you my message?” Tucker’s natural possessiveness and the knowledge Kincaid once had Jo’s sweet flesh between his canines made his voice sound as though he were grinding rock into gravel with his molars. This male might not be a physical threat, but was he an emotional one?
“I spoke with him less than an hour ago.” Kincaid dragged his attention away from Jo long enough to answer Tucker’s question. “I knew there was a female coming with you, but Príoh Walker didn’t relay any names beyond yours, beta.”
“He explained why we’re here?”
“Just that you needed a place to stay for a few days, and I was to keep the visit to myself.” Kincaid voice lowered. “It’s good to see you again, Johnnie.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Dylan.”
The burning sensation in Tucker’s chest coincided with a stabbing pain in his palms. He grunted, forcing his claws to recede and his hands to relax before following Kincaid into the living room.
The shifter offered Jo one of the two leather chairs placed next to the lit stone fireplace, claiming the match for himself.
He gestured for Tucker to take the couch across from the cozy seating arrangement. He chose to remain standing.
“Johnnie Long,” Kincaid said, staring at her as if she were a figment of his imagination and may disappear if he looked away. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Yeah, what are the chances?” Her smile was as strained as her voice.
“Slim, I’d imagine.” His returning smile was genuine, seemingly oblivious to Jo’s discomfort.
“So, um, Dylan…” She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them just to re-cross them a second later. “How’ve you been?”
Although not Alpha status, Kincaid’s wolf was no slouch in the dominance department, his questioning gaze met Tucker’s piercing one with a staunchness he couldn’t help but respect.
He shook his head, and the skin around Kincaid’s eyes pulled taut at the confirmation that Jo wasn’t aware of the actual circumstances of his outcasting.
“It took a few months after leaving the ESC to settle my wolf,” he began, his mouth a harsh line.
A broken bond, chosen or not, was never a smooth adjustment.
“I headed north with the intention of joining one of the small packs that make their home in the Upper Peninsula, but Alpha Fowler made me an offer first. He gave me his bond and a job as a local wilderness guide with his outfitting and vacation rental company. The cabin that came with the position was the icing on the cake. How could I refuse such a sweet deal?”
Kincaid kept to the truth without revealing the specific purpose behind him settling in Northern Michigan, but his scent was an unharmonious mix of crisp pine and bitter coffee.
“Oh.” Her gaze lifted to meet Tucker’s before it slid back to her crossed legs, her foot swinging like a metronome set to a fast 2/2 tempo. “I’d meant since we last saw each other in college. I heard about the outcasting.”
“You did?” Kincaid winced and closed his eyes, letting his head drop onto the chair’s backrest.
“Mom,” Jo said, no other explanation was needed if you knew Dorothy Long.
“I see.” His tone was flat, but his claws dug into the chair arms, scoring the leather.
The story circulated to protect the secretive mission to find the missing Glaofin was that Kincaid fell in with a gang of human thieves and was outcast when he refused to accept punishment for his crimes.
“How is Dorothy?” he asked in a clear attempt to avoid the subject of his shameful banishment.
“She’s good. Dad retired last year, and Mom purchased the nail salon on Mud Island from the previous Ferwyn owner.
She’s super busy and loving it. Owning a business was always her dream, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave her baby girl behind even though my majority was…
” Jo blinked, color spreading from her neck to her hairline.
She wiped her palms on her thighs and said, “Anyhoo, I’d just finished my hospitality management internship, so I looked into job opportunities in the Memphis area and found the opening for the island’s housing and resettlement company.
I applied that same day and was hired within a week.
The dayshift position had been open for a while as the sole employee at the time was a vampire.
She couldn’t cover the daytime clients, at least not easily.
It proved to be a perfect fit for me, and Mom bought the salon.
It’s been a year now since we moved to Queenstown and joined the Walker Pack. ”
“But your brothers stayed in Chattanooga?”
She nodded and covered a wide yawn with the back of her hand. It was close to 4 am, and his she-wolf was fading fast. “Oscar is Alpha Simms’ beta now.”
“And Albert?”
“He just got a promotion with the city’s Guard.”
“That’s good to hear.” Kincaid leaned forward, encroaching on her personal space.
Jo fidgeted under his intense scrutiny, then went still. Her lips quirked, and she levered up one hip, digging underneath the worn cushion to extract a wadded blue t-shirt.
“Sorry about that.” Kincaid grinned and snatched the wrinkled shirt from her hand, tossing it onto the floor. “I was in bed when the príoh called and didn’t have a chance to finish picking up. But I see you’re ever the princess.”
“And you’re still the pea,” Jo said with a sweet smile tinged with sadness on her face. “Some things never change.”
“And some things…” Kincaid stared at his hands clasped between his spread knees, then raised eyes filled with a wealth of meaning. “Some people do change, Johnnie.”
Tucker snarled at the yearning he heard in the male’s voice, and Jo craned her neck to scowl at him. The motion bared the supple line of her neck, attracting Kincaid’s attention like a bee to honey.
Screw this.
“Up,” Tucker growled, taking Jo’s hand and pulling her out of the oversized chair. He spun her around, sat in the vacated seat, and tugged her onto his lap by her hips. She was too busy gaping at him to notice Kincaid’s irises flickering between brown and wolf-yellow.
Problem, pup?
Kincaid leaped to his feet and headed to the small, outdated kitchen. “Can I get y’all something to eat, or would you rather turn in?”
Jo leaned forward, and Tucker pulled her back, anchoring her in place with a forearm around her middle.
He inhaled, testing the air. The degree of yearning Kincaid exhibited for his she-wolf might set his teeth on edge, but the initial response to seeing Jo with someone else could be a knee-jerk reaction.
He’d try to keep that in mind before taking a set of claws to his throat.
“I’m good,” she said, tone an octave too high, perching on his knee like a bird ready to take flight.
“Sleep.” Tucker studied Kincaid as his shoulders lost some of their tension, yet the male still reeked of regret.
“If you want, I’ll go wolf and keep watch while y’all catch a few hours of shut-eye?”
“Appreciated.”