CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

The tall gates swung open slowly, and Frankie drove across the border of Phoenix Pack territory. She paused at a security shack just as a male strode out. When she lowered the window, he bent forward. He was kind of cute, especially with the dimpled smile. He was also mated—she could smell it. “Hi, I’m—”

“Frankie Newman,” he finished. “Lydia told me you’d be here at noon.”

She’d called Lydia the previous night and arranged to come, because Trick had been right. The situation was fucked up and she wasn’t sure what to think, feel, or believe, but she would in fact regret not meeting Iris.

“I’m Gabe Farrow. You won’t remember me. You were good friends with my sister, Jaime. She’s inside, looking forward to seeing you again.”

Frankie’s smile was a little nervous. “Great. What route do I take to—” Her head whipped to the side as her passenger door was pulled open. Trick slid into the car. His smile was lazy and languid and made her wolf sit up in interest.

“Hello, Frankie.” Trick tipped his chin at Gabe and said, “See you at dinner, if not before.” He then turned back to her. “You can give me a ride.”

She slowly lifted a brow. “Can I?”

“Sure. Just follow the road.”

Her tires crunched as they started up the rocky trail. She didn’t drive fast, wanting to take in her surroundings. The territory was massive. Full of tall regal trees, lush grass, and steep, craggy mountains. Beautiful.

Feeling the weight of Trick’s gaze on her skin, she threw him a sideways frown. “Stop staring.”

“But you’re such a pretty view.” Trick loved looking at her. Loved absorbing every inch of her, knowing deep down to his soul that she was his.

He’d never in his life felt possessive of a partner, but the emotion roared through him whenever he saw her, thought of her, inhaled her scent. He was doing his best to hide it, tone down his intensity, and come across as easygoing so she didn’t slam up her guard. It was hard; he wasn’t used to subtlety. By nature he was forward and outspoken. But he didn’t want to fuck this up. So far she’d been relatively relaxed around him, though he doubted she knew why.

His wolf was currently feeling rather self-satisfied, content to have his mate on his territory. The animal wanted to bite and claim her, and he was becoming increasingly pissed off at Trick for failing to do so. “Nervous?”

“Not really,” said Frankie. God, she was such a liar. Her muscles were twitchy, her stomach kept rolling, and her mouth was dry as a bone. Yeah, well, it wasn’t every day that a girl went to visit a grandmother and bunch of pack mates she couldn’t remember. Honestly, she was glad Trick was there; he had a way of settling her. “I don’t know what to expect. I don’t like that.”

“Iris and Lydia are more nervous than you are. Once upon a time, you were a little girl who adored them unconditionally. It’s hard for them that you don’t remember them.”

“I can’t help that,” she said defensively.

“No, you can’t. No one’s expecting you to,” Trick assured her. And if anyone made her feel bad about it, he’d give them a ration of shit. “How’s the hellhorse coming along?”

“Good.” She brought the car to an abrupt halt as something caught her attention. “Is that . . . Are there windows and balconies on that mountain?”

Trick grinned, proud of how observant his mate was. “You’ve got a good eye. Very few people notice until we point them out.”

Frankie stared at it openmouthed, taking in the small windows, the pretty arched balconies, and the narrow stairways that had been carved into the face of the mountain. “Now that’s art.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Trick hadn’t really thought of it that way before. “My Alpha female, Taryn, calls it Bedrock.”

“So you live inside the mountain?”

“Yeah. The large cave system was once an ancient dwelling. Don’t worry—we have electricity and running water. It’s become increasingly modernized over the years.”

“It’s a big place.” Throwing the car into gear, she continued up the trail. “How many wolves are there in your pack?”

“We don’t just have wolves. We also have a raven, a viper, and a cheetah. In total there are twenty-six of us—that’s twenty adults, one juvenile, and five young ones.”

“Young ones?”

“Why do you sound freaked by that?”

“Kids scare me.”

Trick felt his brow crease even as he smiled. “How could kids possibly scare you?”

“I don’t know. They just do.” They always acted weird around her. Plus she didn’t have any younger siblings or cousins, so she wasn’t used to being around kids. “How many of you were part of the first generation, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Of course I don’t mind you asking. It’s pack business, but you are pack. Of the original seventeen, thirteen of us are left. Two died, two transferred to another pack.”

“And one of those who died was Iris’s mate, my . . . um, grandfather?”

“No. Alfie and Iris stayed with the Bjorn Pack. I’m guessing you did your research on the pack and you know why it split?” He would have in her position. At her nod, Trick went on. “They didn’t stay behind because they agreed with Rick Coleman’s decision; it was because they were worried that he’d stop them from visiting Christopher’s grave if they left. Rick would have done that. He was an asshole that way. I thought they might move here when another Alpha took Rick’s place, but they didn’t. Iris recently joined the Phoenix Pack to spend what time she has left with Lydia.” Trick spotted the iPhone in the cup holder. “That your cell?”

Frankie blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “Um, yeah. Hey, don’t play with it,” she said as he grabbed it, but it was too late.

“There. Done.”

She frowned. “What’s done?”

“My number is programmed in your phone.” Trick then called his own cell using hers. “And now I have your number.”

“Don’t you think maybe you should ask before you do shit like that?”

“Would you have told me your number?”

“Sure. It’s 911—but only dial it in an emergency.”

He chuckled. “I do enjoy your sense of humor, Frankie.” It surprised him that she had a playful side, since her maternal family had always seemed so serious. Even her mother, though gentle and kind, had never really been playful, from what he could remember. He pointed to an opening in the base of the mountain. “Go in there.”

She drove through the opening in the cliff and found herself inside a cleverly concealed parking lot. Impressed, she lifted her brows. “Where do I park?”

“Anywhere.”

She whipped her Audi into a spot and switched off the engine. “So is there anything I need to know? I mean, are there rituals to this sort of thing? I don’t have to kneel before the Alphas, do I? Because that won’t happen.”

He smiled. “No, you don’t need to kneel before anyone. Just listen to your wolf; she’ll know what to do.”

Hopping out of the car, Frankie looked at the collection of vehicles. The pack sure did like SUVs. She should have objected when Trick linked his fingers with hers and tugged her outside, but she didn’t. And she couldn’t have said why.

At the foot of the narrow stairway, Trick said, “After you.” Then he could stare at her ass as they climbed. Happy days. Halfway up, she stopped to look around. He frowned and asked, “You all right?”

“Yeah. I’ve just never been to a place like this. Never seen anything like it. My wolf wants out. She wants to roam and explore. I don’t blame her—it’s really amazing.”

It was good that she thought so, Trick mused, because it would be her home soon enough. “Later, after you’ve spoken to the pack and seen Iris, I’ll give you a tour.” He splayed his hand on her lower back and gently urged her on, and they started walking again. “Do your grandparents know you’re here?”

“No.” Frankie hadn’t told Brad either. She’d called him this morning, tiptoed around the subject of Lydia, and agreed to meet with him later that day. “They won’t be happy about it.”

“There’s no point in living to make other people happy, Frankie. We’re all responsible for own happiness anyway.” Finally they reached the main entrance to the caves. He carefully shouldered past her and rested a hand on the door. “Ready?”

Frankie rolled back her shoulders. “As I’ll ever be.” He opened the door, gesturing for her to enter first, and she suddenly found herself inside a large tunnel. It wasn’t dark and dull, as she might have expected. The smooth walls were light-cream sandstone that seemed to illuminate the tunnels, and she briefly skimmed her fingers along them.

“Everyone’s waiting in the living area.” Trick led her through the network of tunnels, keeping his pace slow so she could get a good look around.

As he guided her into the living area, everyone stood. It reminded him of the time when the juvenile of the pack, Zac, had first arrived. Ryan’s young cousin had been staying at the shelter where Makenna worked until they brought him into the pack. Maybe Zac was remembering it too, because his voice cut through the awkward silence.

“They weren’t kidding when they said you look harmless.”

Casting Zac an affectionate hushing look, Taryn stepped forward and smiled at Frankie. “I’m Taryn, Alpha female. This is my mate, Trey, and he’s holding our son, Kye. Welcome to Phoenix Pack territory.”

Frankie nodded at the dainty female. “Thanks.”

Trey inclined his head at her. “I doubt you’ll remember me. I really didn’t like girls much back then—I used to shove daisies down the back of your dress.”

Frankie’s mouth twitched. “I hope I didn’t take that lying down.”

“No, you didn’t. You used to charge at me like a bull.”

“I remember that,” said Lydia, looking like she wanted to embrace Frankie. She refrained. “I’m so glad you came.”

Taryn quickly went on. “Let me introduce you to everyone. Obviously you know Lydia and Cam. Standing next to them are Grace, Rhett, and their little girl, Lilah. Over there near the back wall are the Beta pair, Jaime and Dante, and some of our enforcers, Marcus, Roni, and Dominic. There’s Ryan, who you met at the coffeehouse, standing with his mate, Makenna, and his cousin, Zac. The sleeping pup in Makenna’s arms is Sienna Rose. The woman over there looking miserable and disapproving is Trey’s grandmother, Greta—an accident of nature.

“Last but not least, we have this little cluster of people near the sofa. Hope is Gabe’s mate, Tao is the Head Enforcer, and Riley is the pack’s Guardian. The little girl with the pigtails is Savannah, and the little blond boy with the bulging pockets is Dexter—they belong to Tao and Riley, who are mates.”

Feeling awkward and a little overwhelmed by the overflow of information, Frankie did a slow nod. “It’s nice to meet all of you.” Some of them looked at her with a familiarity that made her uncomfortable. Others just looked curious, particularly the kids, who stared at her. Greta, though, was eyeing Frankie with suspicion.

Dominic stepped forward, a weird grin on his face, but Dante fisted the guy’s shirt and pulled him back with a firm shake of his head.

“Iris wanted to be here to greet you,” began Trey, “but she can’t leave her bed much.”

“She’s super excited to see you,” said Lydia. “I’m under strict orders to take you straight to her. That okay with you?”

Frankie gave an easy shrug. “Sure.”

As Lydia started to lead her out of the room, Trick quietly asked Frankie, “You’ll be all right?”

“Of course.”

Satisfied, he nodded. “If you need anything, call.” He didn’t turn back to the pack until she’d disappeared down the tunnels.

“She really doesn’t remember any of us, does she?” said Jaime, sounding sad.

Dante draped his arm around his mate’s shoulders. “Maybe it’s better that way. If she remembered us, she’d likely also remember her father killing her mother.”

Jaime, who’d witnessed the death of her own parents, said, “You’re totally right. It’s better for her this way. Still, it’s hard. As kids, we played together and tormented the boys together, but she only sees a stranger when she looks at me.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be friends now, does it?” Dante nuzzled his mate. “I’m sure she could do with a friend right now.”

“I think Trick’s already filled that position,” said Trey.

Ignoring the speculation in the Alpha’s eyes, Trick said, “You can never have too many friends.”

Stopping outside a thick oak door, Lydia spoke quietly to Frankie. “Don’t be nervous. She knows you don’t remember her. No one’s expecting an emotional response from you that you can’t give. She’d just like to talk to you and—”

“Stop muttering outside the room and let me get a look at the girl,” a croaky voice called out.

Lydia rolled her eyes and opened the door. Frankie followed her inside, quite surprised to see that the space looked like a luxury hotel suite. It had all the basics—bed, TV, plush chair, table, bedside cabinet, triple wardrobe with mirrored doors. There was even a balcony and a private bathroom.

Frankie’s attention was drawn to the woman in the bed, who was propped up on pillows. She studied Frankie through blue eyes that seemed to have dulled slightly with age. She looked pale and weak, but not defeated. Her gray hair was pulled into a tidy bun, and its shade made Frankie think of doves. Then the woman smiled, and her whole face seemed to light up.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You look just like me when I was your age.”

Mouth curved, Lydia sighed at her mother. “She does not. You have the same eyes—that’s pretty much it.”

Iris sent her daughter a mock glare. “Are you saying I wasn’t beautiful?”

“Don’t try to talk me in circles.”

Iris turned back to Frankie and gestured at the armchair beside her bed. “Come sit.” Once Frankie was seated, Iris clasped her hands and prompted, “So tell me about yourself.”

Frankie felt her brow furrow. “I’m pretty sure, from what Lydia told me, that you already know quite a lot.”

“I know some basic facts. I know where you live, where you went to school, what you do for a living, and I’m guessing you’ve left a trail of broken hearts wherever you’ve gone—I did the same.”

Lydia sighed again. “You did not.”

Iris ignored her. “Favorite color?”

“Yellow,” said Frankie.

“Favorite food?”

“Chocolate.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Role Models.”

“Favorite sex position?”

Frankie’s mouth curved. “There are too many to choose from.”

Iris let out a croaky laugh. “I like you. I was always partial to the reverse cowgirl.”

Lydia gasped. “Mother!”

“Although my mate liked the scissors—”

“Mom, stop, I’m begging you.”

Iris threw an impatient look at her daughter. “Really, Lydia, it’s not as if you’re new to sex.”

“I’m pretty sure that Frankie didn’t come all the way here to discuss the Kama Sutra.”

“It was simply a question,” Iris defended herself. Sliding her gaze back to Frankie, she said, “Tell me more.” She asked lots of questions, but they were casual and even funny at times. She wanted to know all about sculpting, Frankie’s time at school, and what her wolf’s personality was like. Basically—just as Lydia had said—Iris simply wanted to know her.

After a while Iris said, “Your head is probably pounding from all my questions. Feel free to ask me some, if there’s anything you want to know.”

Although Iris hadn’t once touched the subject of her parents, Frankie said, “I want to know about him. And yet I don’t.”

“I understand. Christopher was a pain in my ass.” Frankie’s surprise must have shown on her face, because Iris asked, “Oh, you thought I’d paint him as a misunderstood saint? No, I won’t do that. He wasn’t a bad person, but he could be damn irritating because he was stubborn, anal, and saw things in black and white. There were no gray areas for him. If you made a mistake, if you did him wrong, you were the bad guy. He wasn’t unforgiving, just slow to let any slights go. He was also temperamental, though I’m told that’s normal for artists.”

“He was an artist?”

“Liked to paint. He was pretty good. Not art gallery–worthy, but he had a lot of talent. He had many good qualities. He was loyal. Protective. Strong willed. Honorable. He loved you. Used to carry you around on his shoulders, called you his princess. And he loved Caroline.” Iris took a shaky breath. “I don’t know what went wrong. I truly can’t imagine what it could have been. They seemed so happy.”

“I can’t give you answers about what happened that night,” Frankie said gently. “I understand why you’d want them, but if you’re hoping I can tell you, I can’t. I don’t remember.”

Iris patted her hand. “I won’t deny that I’d like closure, but I’m not under the illusion that you’re able to give it to me.”

“You don’t think I saw anything?”

“You were a smart kid. You would have known to hide if there were trouble. But you were also bold as brass even then. Much too curious for your own good. You’d have come out of hiding to see what was happening, so yes, I believe you saw something.

“I’ve seen pictures of your sculptures, Frankie. They’re captivating, even though they’re also like something from a nightmare. They make me wonder if your subconscious keeps that event locked up tight. But I wouldn’t dream of asking you to drag it all back up—no good could come of that for you. And finding out the whole story wouldn’t change anything.”

Noting the slight slur in Iris’s voice, Frankie shot Lydia a concerned look.

“She’s tired herself out,” Lydia told Frankie. “Mom, you need to rest now.”

Iris huffed. “Fine, fine. I’m grateful that you came, Frankie. More grateful than you can ever know. I hope you’ll come back, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Stepping outside the room, Frankie blinked in surprise at Trick leaning against the wall. “Iris needs to rest, so Lydia’s just getting her settled.”

“You were in there for a while,” he observed. “Not as bad as you’d thought it would be?”

Far from it. “Iris made it easy.”

“Good. Time for that tour.”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I’m off duty. Come on.”

Too curious to turn down such an offer, Frankie followed him. He showed her around the caves first, taking her to the different levels and letting her peek inside the game room, the infirmary, and even the laundry room.

Afterward he took her outside. There was so much to see. Not just the forest and the mountains, but the river, the wildlife, and his favorite spots. He told her lots of stories about the pack, making her laugh again and again.

At her request they hiked to the top of one of the mountains. The view was outstanding, and it was relaxing to listen to the wind whistling along the cliff and making the trees below creak as they rocked slightly.

Her wolf loved it. Loved the wild scents of cold rock, pine needles, and the earthy moss beneath Frankie’s feet.

“Is it hard?” he asked.

Sweeping her gaze over the valley below—admiring the ravine, the frothy waterfall, and the birds she could see perched in high treetops—she asked, “Is what hard?”

“Living off pack territory?”

Frankie felt her nose wrinkle. “I was about to say I don’t know any different. I don’t remember things being any different. My wolf’s kind of edgy, and I often wonder if it’s because she’s without a pack and a territory. I guess she gets lonely.”

Trick pinned her gaze with his. “You’re not without a pack.”

Being considered part of a pack and actually feeling as though she belonged to it—yeah, they were two different things. “Do you remember much about my parents?”

“Yeah. Your father used to chase me and the other boys away, tell us to stay away from his princess. It was just play, and you used to laugh your little head off. Your mother always had cookies, and she’d hand them out to everyone if they promised not to get into mischief. You were a lively, happy kid. Full of energy. Sweet too.” His mouth twitched. “Not so sweet now.”

“No, I can be kind of mean. Why does that make you smile?”

“I like mean.”

“Then you’ll fucking adore me.”

He chuckled, thinking that, yeah, he would. “We should head back. It’s time for dinner. You’re welcome to stay the night. As you’ve already seen, we have lots of guest rooms.”

She walked toward the slope, almost wincing as a bumpy rock prodded the sole of her foot. “I’m meeting someone later, but thanks.” She halted abruptly as he suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Who are you meeting?”

The rumbled demand surprised her. “Sorry?”

“Who are you meeting?”

“What’s with the tone?” Because she didn’t like it at all. His easygoing charm was gone, and the dark predatory streak that he hid seemed to take over.

“Answer the question, Frankie.”

“And just why would you think it had a damn thing to do with you?”

He growled. “It has everything to do with me.” He went nose to nose with her and whispered, “I don’t share.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not yours to share.”

“You will be.”

Frankie really wished those words pissed her off. Instead the possessive statement made her a little tingly. Her wolf liked it. “Is that a fact?”

“It is.” He cupped her chin. “When I’m sure that you’re ready, I’ll come for you. You should probably know that.” Softening his voice, he coaxed, “Tell me who you’re meeting. I need time to look them up, find their address, and beat the shit out of them so they can’t make it to the meeting. Really, time is of the essence here.”

She wouldn’t smile, Frankie promised herself. She wouldn’t. But she did. “My uncle. I’m meeting my uncle. And I would prefer it if you didn’t beat him up.” Like that, his face went all soft, and the menacing glint receded from his eyes.

“There. Was that so hard?” Trick brushed his mouth over hers. “Don’t worry; your uncle’s safe from me.” Unless the human hurt her in any way, that was. Trick wouldn’t tolerate that. Releasing her, he stepped back. “Come on, time to eat.”

Back inside the caves, Trick escorted her to the kitchen and seated her beside him at the long table. Frankie noticed that he didn’t look happy when Dominic sat opposite her, and he even tossed the blond enforcer a warning look that made him blink innocently.

As she piled food on her plate, she glanced around the table. People were talking, laughing, teasing, and—in the case of Dexter—stuffing food in their pockets. Frankie hadn’t grown up in a house full of laughter. Meal times were stiff, dignified affairs; there would be light conversation, but no funny stories or mirth.

Being around the pack was, well, odd. Not bad odd, but different. The way they all lived together, ate together, held different roles, constantly touched each other . . . Maybe it should have been off-putting, since it was so unfamiliar, but she liked it. At the same time, it was kind of sad. Like being on the outskirts of a secret club, having a peek of what went on inside, but only being an observer. Not that they ignored her or anything. No, they included her in their conversations and told her things about themselves—particularly Jaime, who also shared some funny stories from their childhood.

One such story made Frankie’s head jerk back. “I would never eat a beetle.”

“You didn’t eat it, but you did chew it. So did I. Then we both spat the mashed-up insects at the girl who happened to be Dante’s girlfriend at the time.”

Dante winced. “Yeah, I remember that. She screamed like a banshee.” His eyes dropped to the oversize, odd-looking ginger cat that suddenly sprang onto his mate’s lap. He glared hard at the feline, who glared right back—like they were engaged in some kind of dominance battle. Then the cat hissed, and Dante snapped his teeth.

Jaime cuddled the cat close to her. “Popeye, leave him alone. Frankie, this is Hunk.”

Frankie’s brows lifted. “Really? He’s . . . cute.” Lie.

“So, Frankie . . . ,” began Dominic, leaning forward. “What time do you have to be back in heaven?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Lydia burst out. “No, Dominic, you will not do this to my niece.”

He looked the image of innocence. “What?”

“Don’t mind Dominic,” Taryn told Frankie. “He says cheesy lines to just about everyone.”

“I mean it, Dominic,” Lydia said sternly. “Leave her alone.”

He smiled. “Oh, I see, you’re jealous. Ah, Lydia, you know I adore you. I especially love those long legs. What time do they open?”

Taryn sighed, raising a brow at Frankie. “See what I mean?”

As a chuckling Dominic turned back to Frankie, Trick softly but firmly said, “No.”

The enforcer frowned. “But—”

“No,” Trick repeated. “Unless you’re curious about what your balls taste like.”

Dominic exhaled in frustration. “You’re no fun.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Greta asked Frankie, her mouth tight as she stared at her.

Blinking, Frankie said, “I’m sorry?”

“You say the Newmans lied to you all these years.” Greta lifted her chin in challenge. “But how do we know that’s true?”

Frankie felt her brows lower. “Why would I lie about it?”

“That’s what I’m wondering.”

Trick draped his arm over the back of Frankie’s chair. “Greta, just don’t.”

“It’s a valid question,” Greta insisted.

“It’s you looking for reasons not to like or trust Frankie,” he corrected her.

Makenna leaned into Frankie and said quietly, “Don’t take it personally. Greta doesn’t like unmated females around her precious boys. She’s very possessive of Trey, Dante, Tao, and the male enforcers. Doesn’t like any of their mates, other than Roni. She hates me most of all.” The last was said with pride.

Greta’s focus snapped back to Frankie. “I never liked your grandparents. They’re hoity-toity. Think they’re better than everyone else, especially shifters. Your grandmother has a coldness about her. When I look at you, I see that same coldness.”

Frankie licked her fork. “When I look at you, I see someone so ancient she probably has an autographed Bible.”

Taryn burst out laughing, leaning into Trey, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

Greta glowered at the Alpha female, griping, “Oh, you would find that amusing.” Greta sneered in disgust and marched out of the kitchen, her head held high.

A little while later, Frankie thanked Grace for the meal and—since it seemed kind of rude that she was immediately leaving—apologized for having to eat and run. She politely refused Lydia’s offer for her to stay the night, but she did go and say goodbye to Iris before leaving.

Trick walked her to the parking lot and over to her Audi. His fingers combed through her hair. “I’m glad you came, Frankie.”

Surprisingly . . . “Yeah, so am I.”

“Good.”

She should have seen it coming. She’d just gotten so used to him touching her without taking it too far that she’d lowered her guard, so she hadn’t been braced for the hand that slid up the back of her neck, gripped a fistful of her hair, and held her head still as he pinned her against the car.

Her heart leaped and her breath left her in a rush. He didn’t slam his mouth on hers as she’d expected. No, he skimmed his nose down her neck and breathed her in. His low growl reverberated up his chest and made her nipples bead.

“Fucking love your scent, Frankie.”

She gripped his arms as his teeth scraped over her pulse just hard enough to make her pussy clench. His tongue swirled over her skin to soothe the sting, and then he was kissing his way up her neck and over to her mouth. His tongue sank inside and lashed hers. He didn’t rush. He lingered. Explored. Savored. Devoured. Left her without any defenses.

Feel-good chemicals swam through her brain and flooded her body. The whole thing was so delicious and intoxicating that her head spun and her pussy grew unbelievably wet.

Sliding a hand under her thigh, Trick hooked her leg over his hip as he crushed her against the car, letting her feel how hard he was for her. Fuck, she tasted as sweet and tangy and perfect as she smelled. Her soft, incredibly responsive body curved into his, fitting against him just right.

He possessively closed his hand over her breast, and her hard nipple brushed his palm. He felt her raspy moan all the way down to his balls. Growling into her mouth, he slanted his head, deepening the kiss, needing more. Knowing he’d never get enough.

He’d never experienced this depth of raw need in his life. Never needed something so badly that he felt like he’d go insane without it. It was getting harder and harder to tone down his urge to claim her. He’d waited so damn long for her, needed her so fucking badly. But he wouldn’t take her right then.

Trick pulled back, panting a little, and rubbed his nose against hers. “I will have you, Frankie. But it won’t be up against a car. Not the first time, anyway. I want to lick and savor every inch of you. Can’t do that here.”

Striving to find some composure after that kiss that had all but destroyed her, Frankie licked her lower lip. The way he was looking at her, the way he spoke—so serious, so determined, so resolved—was unnerving as hell. To lighten the moment, she teased, “What if I don’t like casual sex?”

He pursed his lips. “I suppose I could dress up. Put on my best shirt.”

She chuckled. “You know what I mean.” She liked their back and forth. Everything in her life was so serious right then, and he was like a long, cool glass of water—calming and refreshing. And he kissed like a fucking master.

“Your laugh could stop traffic.” Raspy and gritty, like her voice, it never failed to make Trick’s cock twitch. And since he was currently pressed up against her, there was no way she hadn’t felt it. He kissed her once more. “I needed that.” Stepping back, he opened the car door for her. As she slipped inside, he said, “Stay safe, Frankie.”

“You too.”

He let the door swing shut and watched her drive away. It was hard. Painful, even. Every instinct he had badgered him to keep her close. His wolf lunged after her, but Trick kept a tight hold on him. It had to be this way. For now.

Once his wolf settled, Trick returned to the caves and headed to the living area. Most of the pack were gathered there, and they all looked at him oddly as he entered.

Dante arched a brow. “Something you want to tell us?”

“You’ve already figured it out.” Trick had suspected they would. It wasn’t like he’d be able to hide his possessiveness from them—they knew him too well.

“When did you figure it out?” asked Lydia.

“Day one,” Trick replied.

Marcus rubbed at his nape. “Well, this complicates things, but I’m happy for you.”

The others nodded . . . except for Lydia, who sighed and began, “Trick—”

“You don’t want anything to rock the boat and scare her off,” said Trick. “I know. Neither do I. But don’t ask me to keep my distance from her. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. She’s mine, and I’ve lived without her for long enough. I’ll hold off on telling her we’re mates, though it’s possible she’ll figure it out for herself.” His mate was smart. “She’s in tune with her wolf.”

“In the long run,” began Taryn, “it will work to our advantage that you’re her true mate. It means she’ll move here at some point. But for now, well, if she knew the truth, I think it would make her feel pressured.”

“Like I said, I’ll hold off on telling her. I want her here more than any of you do.”

Lydia gave him a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re her mate, Trick. You’ll be there for her, look out for her. If the Newmans turn on her over this—and I’m pretty sure they will—she’s going to need whatever support she can get.”