Chapter 4 - Robyn

It was a long day of strangers knocking on my door.

As a pure wolf descendant, I was already highly sought by members of my pack. The Wildtooth Tails had been home to the Wade Family and their blood relatives since its conception. One of my greats was one of the four founders of this pack, a dedicated artisan and taxidermist who established our good reputation.

My mother quickly destroyed that good-standing reputation when she divorced my father and fought with him in front of the pack, the Gods, and the rest of the universe. Intelligent Life watching from distant planets must have loved tuning into that number. It was embarrassing the amount of private information my mother stated about my father's family jewels , as she called them, on her porch.

For whatever reason, I couldn't stop thinking about that nightmarish argument after I put Sydney to bed early on Saturday night. We were still trucking it through early July, with the weather acting funky for no good reason. The wind was batting the shutters like they were about to get torn off. That would make more work for the morning when I already had a meeting with Sydney's daycare teacher, my Alpha, and my mother would undoubtedly drop by uninvited again.

Saturdays were for rest. Everyone else did it that way. Why couldn't I just be like everyone else?

The shutters on the window next to the garage slapped the outer sill, causing my heart to pop into my throat. I held a hand to my chest as I exhaled slowly and made my way across the living room. The weather was one thing to deal with on short notice, but men? Sheesh, they were like vultures trying to claw their way into my home.

Mother loved all the attention. She loved the bouquets, the self-care baskets, the gift cards, and the gifts. If the white silk wraps and holographic plastic packaging hadn't been making a mess of my living area—of which I kept having to step around due to the amount that kept showing up—I would have thought she was the one getting all the attention.

Her excitement almost made me feel jealous. Because I would have loved some luxury doting like this three years ago to take my eyes off that no-good, two-timing, lying bastard of a jerk who called himself—

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the figure in the window.

My eyes widened. "Cliff?"

No , I thought. I'm just seeing things. I'm just filling in the blanks because I'm paranoid .

Because it was more than just unexpected visitors from outside the pack.

It was the unexpected visitors inside the pack as well.

The very same ones that had invited themselves into our dear Alpha.

Lightning flashed again, revealing an empty window with a faint halo of light from the porch. No one was there. I was just seeing things because I couldn't shake the sense of dread that kept following me everywhere since I had agreed to see these men my mother wanted to set me up with.

And the only reason for that was sleeping in her princess-themed bedroom right now.

Outside, thunder rumbled through the air, an open call to all things nocturnal to come out and play. I heeded the call temporarily, feeling it serenade my wolf as I unlocked the door and opened it. A salty wind swept over my shoulders. I gulped it down to ground myself, then stepped outside to check the porch. Hair fluttered into my face. I shoved it behind my ears and held it there while turning about, the white-painted porch hosting a rocking chair that rocked like wheezing hinges and a giant windchime that resonated through the blasts of cool wind.

Nothing was out here.

I was about to head inside when I saw shadows dance near the other side of the house. Beyond the halo of the porch light was a dim outer layer untouched by the street lights. Darkness grew farther out. If I wandered away from the door, then someone might get inside.

I sniffed the air. Wolves . Of course, I would smell wolves here. I was surrounded by nothing but wolves. Whoever was stalking around the house was probably some creepy peeper who wanted to prey on a woman like me who didn't live with anyone else over the age of four. Some guys thought that left me helpless and often boasted they could save me from unsuspecting invaders.

My eyes rolled. "If you're trying to scare me, it won't work."

Shuffling sounded from the place I stared at. Sneakers squeaked. I poked my head out while crossing my arms over my chest like some kind of annoyed pigeon. "I can see you, dumb ass."

"That's a foul thing to say to an old friend."

Every inch of me prickled with a familiar irritation. Hell froze over then, the slick wind making my skin feel thick with a biting chill that made me realize I had forgotten my jacket.

I knew that voice.

I dreaded that voice.

I gulped. "Cliff?"

Three years of fooling around had done that man better than a spa weekend could do for me. My Goddess, there was no way I had ever slept with this hunk without having a few drinks for confidence first. It was the sly smile, the can-do expression, the smooth operation of his stepping into the light. It was the way he tilted his head so I could see the five o'clock scruff on his face, the pronounced Adam's apple, and the undone buttons of his plaid shirt beneath his overalls. It was that tuft of dirty blond hair poking out from his shirt, the greased buttons, and the casual coolness of his hands in his pockets like he was just hanging out on the corner and happened to see me walking by.

"Hi, Robby," he said with a rasp in his voice. He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at the door to my left. "Invite me in? Kind of hard to get reacquainted in the yard with nosy neighbors."

"You left me—"

He pulled his hands from his pockets, showing me his empty palms. "Hey, let's talk it through—"

"You left me—"

"I completed my contract. The job was complete."

My fists ached as I squeezed them at my sides; I shoved my heels into the porch as I stiffened harder than a puppet with freshly glued limbs. " You didn't say a word ."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"About what?"

He lowered his hands as he approached the porch. "Can we go inside, Robby?"

"You don't get to call me that after you left me high and dry without an explanation. And then—" I pointed inside, my body crystallizing with shock as I realized what I was pointing out—or rather whom I was pointing at. I swallowed my anger and dropped my hand. "Sydney, go back to bed."

Cliff raised his eyebrows again as he stepped onto the porch. "Who's Sydney?" His features darkened as his upper lip twitched. Shadows deepened over his eyes as he bowed his head to look down at me. "Is some guy here?"

My anxiety dissipated as annoyance slid into place. "No, Sydney is my daughter, you idiot. Will you just sit down and be quiet?"

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Don't show up on my porch after three years of radio silence!"

Across the street, the porch light flipped on. The door started moving, and then I heard the unforgiving squeal of the mesh door as Mrs. Phillips stuck her pug-like mug out to inspect the noise. I grabbed Cliff by the front of his overalls and hauled his boot-wearing ass into the house, where I shut the door and bolted it. I peeked through the peephole. I checked the curtains.

Then I turned to the biggest problem to land on my doorstep. "Cliff, what are you doing here?"

But he wasn't even paying attention to me. He was watching the little girl in the fuzzy white bunny pajamas hugging a giant bunny with floppy ears to her side. He knelt on the ground and pointed to the stuffie.

I stepped between them. "Sydney, I said to go back to bed."

"Who's the funny man?" She blinked up at me innocently and then turned sleepily to Cliff. "Who are you?"

"I'm Cliff."

I shook my head. "And I'm past my patience. Sydney, bed ."

She pouted and stomped her little foot, then rubbed her eye vigorously as a yawn stretched her features. She stumbled toward the staircase behind her and started crawling up the carpeted steps. I drilled Cliff with a vicious glare. "Don't move."

He winked. "Yes, Ma'am."

Alright.

No big deal.

Just taking Sydney to bed while her father stands in the living room.

Goddess, if I could laugh right now, I would probably sound like a crazed witch. I could feel the way my chest shuddered through each inhaled breath, how my fingers twitched with annoyance, and the prickling feeling of agitation growing in my belly as I tucked Sydney into her princess bed. I kissed her forehead. I kissed her bunny's forehead—Mr. Charles—and then I went back downstairs where Cliff was standing in the dark with his hands in his pockets.

My eyelids fluttered as the scent of spiced tobacco tickled my nostrils. At once, memories exploded in my core, an emotional bomb that detonated at the reminder of summers spent swimming under the pier, holding hands on top of a cliff, swimming in the ocean naked at night with the frigid temperature threatening to take us under, and warm lips. Rough hands. Eager mouths.

I closed my eyes. "No."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said no ." I looked at him as a new feeling took hold, so fresh in its birth that I thought it was brand-new, but it wasn't. It was just an old feeling from four years ago that made my center ache and my slit sting. "I don't want to be involved with you anymore."

His eyes dropped to the ground.

Was he…disappointed?

"I told them you probably had a mate," he said in a low voice. Then, as if he had never frowned in his life, he brightened up with a grin. "Well, congrats, Robby. I hope you're happy."

I folded my arms over my chest. "I don't have a mate."

"A boyfriend?"

"No."

His grin grew. "A harem of lovers?"

I snorted. "I'm too busy being a good mother."

"Yeah, tell me about that."

My knees wobbled. It felt like my heart had dropped right through my gut to the ground. I stared at Cliff like he had shifted into a creature other than a wolf. Shock passed through me. Then guilt. Then fear.

Then anger . "Some asshole knocked me up and disappeared."

I pinched my lips together. Way to blow it, Robyn . Too many things had happened. Too much resentment lived inside me to stand telling Cliff the truth—that he was the asshole who knocked me up and disappeared. In my heart lived a tender wound that refused to heal because of this jerk.

He didn't deserve the truth. Especially when he was creeping back into my life in the middle of the night wearing a sly grin like he didn't just ignore me for three entire ass years.

Well, he wasn't grinning now.

Actually, he looked kind of pissed with his furrowed brow, his stern sneer, and his fiery stare. His nostrils flared as he approached me. "Did he hurt you?"

My eyebrows twisted together. "W-What?"

"Was he controlling?" He touched my shoulders abruptly, causing me to quake. His touch was light but insistent, and the sudden, gentle gesture had my heart racing. "Did he try to hurt your daughter?"

His voice had dropped to a concerned rumble that I could feel vibrating in his chest with his standing so close. The tables had turned. My brain short-circuited as my heart whipped into a frenzied beat, one that made me shiver.

Cliff clutched my shoulders firmly, protectively . "You're shaking. He did do something, didn't he?" He glanced toward the kitchen. "Tell me who he is, and I'll—"

"That's not necessary." I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed on his chest, hesitantly putting space between us. "Cliff, it's fine. He didn't hurt us—well, he didn't hurt Sydney."

"But he hurt you."

I scoffed as I unraveled myself from his energetic presence, his dominating stance, and his protective hovering. Three years of separation had nearly made me forget how he treated me before he disappeared.

His touch turned from firm to gentle, textured palms scrubbing my shoulders, upper arms, and forearms, massaging away the anxiety that tried to take me over. Cliff was here. Cliff was touching me. Cliff, the father of the little girl sleeping upstairs, had come back to see me, to protect me, to defend me.

I waved his hands away. From himself. He wants to avenge the way he treated me.

"I'm making tea. Do you want tea? Do you still want tea?" I wandered into the kitchen without waiting for his response. "I have tangy citrus, calming balms, sleepy, wakey, eggs and bakey…"

I rubbed my forehead.

"I mean, sorry." I rustled through the cabinet, peering out the window to check the patio that separated the kitchen from the garage. The most atypical lawn set sat on the concrete with a striped red and white umbrella that reminded Sydney of a candy cane. She liked to say she was sitting underneath a lollipop whenever it was sunny enough to do it. "I usually talk to a three-year-old girl."

"Eggs and bakey sounds pretty good. You know, the usual home-baked goods." I looked at him in time to catch a wink. "Got any green?"

I chuckled as I grabbed a box of stress relief . We were both about to need it. "That's not my style anymore. I like keeping my head clear."

"Do you still like to argue?"

"Who said anything about arguing?"

He huffed, took a seat at the round beige table, and kicked his boots up on the opposite chair.

I pursed my lips. "You sure know how to make yourself at home."

"I'd like for you to do the same in mine."

"As if."

He smiled tightly. "I'm serious, Robyn. My Alphas announced us as mates." He folded his hands together on his lap. "I'm tasked with taking you back to West Virginia with me."

The box fell from my fingers. Whatever else I might have been holding fell too—and by the looks of how frantically Cliff shot up from the chair, I would venture to guess it was something dangerous like ceramic or glass or something. As he crunched around my immobile body to grab the broom and sweep up the mess, I digested the things he had just said to me.

Mates.

He called us mates.

I blinked down at him. He was busy gathering up the shattered pieces of blue clay from the mug I had dropped. I spotted a piece of a painted whale with a tutu. "Shit, that was her favorite."

"I'll get her a new one."

"Don't do that."

He stood up and slid the mess into the trashcan. "Why not?"

"We're not going with you."

"Why not ?"

I shook my head as I grabbed the edge of the counter. "It's not logical."

"So, you're saying you don't need a mate?"

I cut my eyes away from him. "I didn't say that."

"Then, come back with me." He pulled a rolled wad of papers from his back pocket. "And let me prove to you exactly why you should do it."