Page 45

T hunder rumbled as dark grey clouds gathered from the west. Three days had passed since Henry Hightower had strong-armed me into accepting his marriage proposal.

I’d given him a list of personal matters I needed to tie up and the timeline, but he was getting too involved.

He wanted to take over selling my house, but I made up a lie that it wasn’t legal.

I still hadn’t broken the news to my father.

He’d probably be over the moon that I was finally settling down, especially with a wealthy partner, but I struggled with whether to tell him the truth.

He would confront Henry, and that terrified me.

I was also holding out hope that I’d find a way out of this.

On my way to the Arrowhead house, I stopped off at the front drive of the Macgregor pack.

I called Deacon in advance to let him know I was swinging by and told him to meet me by the road.

Since they lived next door to Tak, it seemed an opportune time to address in person why I wasn’t going to pursue our relationship. He deserved that much.

Deacon stood by an Ashe juniper tree with his arms crossed. His blue stringer tank top revealed his muscular arms, which were covered in tattoos. He must have spent an inordinate amount of time working out to get as big as that.

I pulled over and stepped out of the vehicle. The heavy scent of rain gave a sense of foreboding that a storm was on the horizon.

Deacon ran his hands over his short brown hair as if he wanted to draw attention to his muscular arms. The poor man must have thought he was catnip to all women. Well, this kitty liked her men lean and strong.

“Thanks for meeting me on short notice,” I said.

“You caught me while I was working out.”

I wondered if that was true or if he was trying to impress me in that silly tank top.

Before I could tell him it wasn’t a happy visit, Deacon wrapped his arms around me, mashing my body against his chest and drowning me in his heavy cologne.

“Hey, doll. I haven’t heard from you lately. Come join us for lunch.”

I stepped back, uncertain how to begin. “You deserve to hear this in person and not over the phone. This isn’t going to work out between us.”

“You don’t say.” Deep lines appeared between eyebrows as he gave me a nonplussed look. “I thought we hit it off?”

I instantly remembered the lackluster kiss and wondered what imaginary sparks he had felt on his end. “My situation’s changed. I’ve accepted Henry Hightower’s proposal.”

His eyebrows popped up. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. That fast?”

“It’s mutually beneficial, and he’s the only choice for me.”

I carefully selected my words so Deacon wouldn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d change my mind. His life depended on it.

Deacon shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”

I blinked in surprise.

That was easy.

Not that I’d had any fantasies of riding off into the sunset with Deacon Shaw, but why wouldn’t he at least put up an argument?

“I thought you might challenge him or something stupid.”

Deacon kicked a rock and steered his attention off to the field. “With a guy like Hightower? Not even worth it. I’ve got a job to think about and don’t need the drama. If my Packmaster found out I was starting trouble with a guy like that, he’d demote me.”

While relieved that Deacon wasn’t going to flip out, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t want to fight for me. Somehow I’d expected more from a beta, and he had shown genuine interest.

“Well, I guess that’s it.” I headed back to my silver car.

“Eden!”

I opened the door and turned.

Walking up his driveway, he twisted around and pointed at me as if I were in trouble. “If things don’t work out between you two, give me a call.”

“Bye, Mr. Shaw.”

Deacon shook his head and ambled up the drive.

When I reached Arrowhead territory, Robyn was sitting on the gate. Her khaki shorts and lace-up boots were a cute look and showed off her tan legs. Tak must have sent her to open the gate so I wouldn’t have to get out of my car.

I rolled down my window. “You didn’t have to come out all this way.”

She approached the car window and smiled. “My yoga class starts soon, and I like to greet my students at the gate.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“Better than I thought. I also teach meditation techniques and controlled breathing that helps reduce anxiety and stress. I’ve got three pregnant women in my class, but everyone mostly joins for fun. Interested?”

I chuckled softly. “It sounds like something I might need in the near future. Not the part about pregnancy. I guess you don’t want a ride back.”

Robyn swept her hand over her shag cut. “No, but thanks.”

“Are you sure? It looks like rain.”

She squinted at the sky. “I’ll shelter under a tree, but a little water never hurt anyone.” After she opened the gate, I drove through and waved.

Thunder rumbled as I headed down a private drive that was so long the house was nowhere in view until the trees began to thin out.

A light mist sprayed the windshield but immediately evaporated.

They had a gorgeous property—nothing showy like some Packmasters I’d seen.

Their large home complemented the rural surroundings because of the wood and stone walls.

The porch didn’t cover the entire front of the house, but there was enough room for several chairs.

Showy Boston ferns hung over the wooden railing, and bright purple vincas cascaded from the pots by the steps.

After parking, I made my way to the front door where Tak was waiting.

He smiled cheerfully, his long hair in a single braid as always. “Good day for a visit, Miss Thompson. You might need a car wash when the roads get muddy.”

I smiled. “We need the rain. As long as there isn’t any hail, it doesn’t bother me.”

He admired the Mercedes. “That’s a nice car. You can park in the garage.”

“This won’t take long.”

“Come inside.” He led me into the spacious entryway, and I glanced at the impressive stone fireplace on the left-hand wall. Although winter was over, they had plenty of firewood stacked up in the nook.

What a cozy home.

I tapped the gong by the door with my fingernail. “What’s this for?”

Tak chuckled as we walked through the archway on his right. “That’s the dinner bell. We don’t use it anymore, but it brings good memories.” He stopped in the center of the near-empty room. “Our activity room doesn’t get much activity. Virgil set up his music, and we play games.”

I looked at the Clue board game on a round table. “It has potential.”

“A house is something you grow into. People are always in a rush to finish, but we’ll be here for many generations. Why fill it all up now? I want to leave enough room for new packmates and our children to add a piece of themselves.”

Striding across the room, he slid open two wooden doors and invited me into a stunning private library.

The dark wood shelves wrapped around the walls and extended all the way up to the lofty ceiling.

The built-in lights made browsing easy. Two rectangular windows on the upper right-hand wall brought in a little light, but the rest of the space was filled with shelves.

I imagined Lucian reading late into the night under the soft glow of a table lamp, his fingers burrowed in his disheveled hair, his brow furrowed while he turned the page.

Tak hustled to the arched entryway on the left and closed two sliding wood doors. “The contractor I hired put these in,” he said proudly. “They were custom made, and we redid the entire wall to fit them.”

I admired the red stained glass on each one. “They’re beautiful.”

“I wasn’t thinking about privacy when I first designed this room. That used to be open.” Tak offered me a seat at the square table. “But this is where I have most of my business meetings, and because of the bedrooms and bathroom in the back, someone’s always passing by and looking in.”

I sat and admired the shelves. Most were empty. “Are these all educational?”

Tak rocked with laughter. “Some. Salem brings in books for his work, and we also have repair manuals. That shelf there”—he pointed to my right—“is nothing but romance.”

“Cecilia’s choices? I’ve seen her reading romance novels at the bookstore.”

He gave a toothy grin. “She brings them in, but she’s not the only one who checks them out.”

“It’s cozy in here. You should get a few upholstered reading chairs or a small sofa. The tables are good for studying or sitting at for a spell, but some people like to curl up when they’re reading. I know I do.”

His eyebrows popped up. “Cecilia suggested the same thing. The books in my tribe were educational, so our library was small and only had tables. If you wanted entertainment, you sat with the elders and listened to their stories. We plan to use this room as a school for our children, but I like the idea of softer furniture. Maybe then people will stay in common areas to read instead of running to their rooms and closing the door.”

“Who will be the teacher?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. Lucian has experience, but…” Tak shrugged as if uncertain.

“He’s got his security work,” I offered.

“I was going to say he’s in prison.”

“That too.” Thunder rattled the house as if announcing what was to come. “That’s why I’m here. I finally heard back from the Mageri about Lucian’s case. They were able to locate Marcus Seaborn’s Creator.”

Tak frowned. “I thought Creators only had a say if the Mage was still under their care. Marcus was independent.”