Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

BEN

Ben sat in one of the sun chairs on the deck, feeling lost. This was certainly not what he expected after being brought into Oakford territory against his will.

Anders sat in the chair beside him, sunning himself with his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark glasses. The wolf looked half-asleep, mouth parted as a butterfly fluttered above his nose, but Ben suspected Anders missed nothing.

No punishment came following his escape attempt this morning. That, more than anything, unsettled Ben. Did the wolves think he wasn't a threat, or were they so confident in their skills that locking Ben down wasn't needed? He couldn't decide whether to be insulted or terrified. These wolves weren't arrogant—they were competent.

Ben chewed the side of his thumb.

"I can smell you thinking, pretty boy," Anders grumbled, not opening his eyes. "Stop it."

Ben sighed loudly and folded his arms. "Is this what enforcers do when no one's watching? Laze around and nap?"

"We do after a long hunt. Mandated rest for at least two weeks." Anders lowered his sunglasses to give Ben a dark look. "So don't ruin it for me."

"What were you hunting? Me?"

Anders fluffed the pillow behind his head, stretching out like he was at a five star beach resort. "Nope."

Ben scowled, knowing it wasn't wise to poke at a wolf who radiated danger, but if the Oakford Pack intended to hurt him, he'd prefer it to happen now rather than be surprised later. "Then who?—"

"It was Craven," Anders said. "He never leaves Vaughn's side because he's scared someone will take his place. We couldn't miss the chance to snatch him." He smirked. "You're a bonus."

Feeling vaguely insulted, Ben asked, "So where's Craven? He wasn't on the plane."

"As if we'd taint pack territory by bringing Vaughn's second here. He's with another pack being encouraged to change his ways."

"You going to kill him?"

Anders shrugged like he didn't care. "That's up to Craven, though the dick deserves it for what he did to you."

Ben hesitated. "He didn't?—"

"His scent was all over you," Anders said with a low growl. "I'm surprised Connor didn't rip Craven's head off the first chance he got. But I suppose that's why Connor's our alpha—he can keep a cool head even when his instincts tell him to turn feral."

Ben couldn't figure out why Connor would go feral in the first place. Not over him, surely. "Why keep Craven? Why not let him go?"

Anders grinned, showing fangs. "Because it pisses off Vaughn."

That might be true, but Ben knew Anders was withholding information. Maybe Oakford Pack also had a vendetta against Vaughn, although they needed to get in line. Vaughn was his kill, and he'd attack anyone in his way.

Sinking back into the sun chair, Ben studied the glittering water. The lake smelled so crisp and clean that he longed to sink under the surface. It was tempting, but Ben wasn't sure he could withstand the pain of knowing the lake didn't come close to the shadowy grotto he'd lost.

Agitation flared once again. Vaughn needed to die, and it wouldn't happen while Ben was on a sun chair working on a tan.

The other enforcers returned from a trail at the far end of the shore leading into the forest, Seamus looking bruised but happy. Jake strode with a sniper's rifle strapped to his back, his skin glowing like he'd had the best day. He followed Seamus as the bigger wolf strode around the side of the cabin and emerged a short time later with a fishing rod. Seamus eyed Ben and then looked over the lake as if measuring Ben's line of sight before setting up on the pebbled shore in front of the cabin.

Kris went inside to wash off the sweat and grime, but Jake loitered by the shore to watch his mate.

Connor stalked up the deck and sat on the empty chair beside Ben, stretching out his legs and reading something on his phone. Whatever it was made Stone unhappy, with tension obvious from his white grip on the phone.

"What is it?" Anders asked.

Stone glanced briefly at Ben, clearly debating whether to say anything. "Vaughn hasn't returned to his territory like we expected. He's taken most of his enforcers with him."

Ben's heart skipped a beat. "Where are they headed?"

Stone gave him a flat look. "You're staying here, Ben, safe and sound."

"That isn't what I asked," Ben muttered.

The alpha ignored him, reading something on his phone as his scowl deepened.

Ben resentfully studied Connor's brooding, handsome profile, taking in the strong cheekbones, the sweat on his exposed forearms and the fullness of his bottom lip. Even the way Connor clenched his jaw as he read was annoyingly sexy.

"This is bullshit," Ben said, wanting to slap himself. Or have Connor slap him so that he'd get over his stupid infatuation. "What am I even doing here?"

"The fact you refuse to figure it out tells me you need a keeper," Connor said, glaring at his phone. He tapped a message, blue eyes frosty as he waited.

"Say what now?" Ben flared, sitting upright.

Icy blue eyes looked up and snared Ben. "You are precious, Ben."

Heat coiled in Ben's stomach, but he determinedly ignored it. "Because I'm a luckbringer?—"

"No." Connor's expression darkened in annoyance. "I don't want your luck, but I will protect you."

What in the living hell did that even mean? Protect him from Vaughn? Or protect Ben from himself? Either way, it was insulting.

"I'm not a child," Ben muttered, folded his arms in a way he knew was fucking childish.

"Believe me, I'm well aware," Connor said, his blue eyes heating until gold briefly flared in his irises.

Ben stared.

"Idiots," Anders muttered under his breath.

The phone rang a few minutes later. Connor stood and walked down the deck. "Grayson, what do you know?"

Ben strained to listen, holding his breath as if that would sharpen his hearing.

Throwing Ben a look, Connor stalked inside and closed the door behind him.

Pushing his sunglasses on top of his head, Anders got up and went steps leading down to the lake. "Might as well get comfy, kid. This is going to be a long day."