Chapter 9

Wiley

S haking my head, I glance at Sly. "I'm going to wring that little shit's neck."

He chuckles. "Sounds like Tom's boy gave up all of our secrets today."

"Thank Fates our reality sounds like an unbelievable fairytale." I return my attention to cleaning the kitchen. Someday I'll explain everything to Geneva, to include my super shifter hearing. I know it's not fair to humans trying to have a private conversation, but our extraordinary senses are damn useful when scanning for threats.

"Do you want me and Jimmy to hang out here tonight while you woo Geneva?" Sly waggles his eyebrows.

"Woo?"

He shrugs. "What do you want from me, man? I've been bingeing a regency romance miniseries on TV. What do you have planned to make your mate yours?"

I throw the dish towel down, lean my ass against the counter, and cross my arms over my chest. "I don't know. The truth? Do you think that will win her over? It's crazy. Three days ago I wasn't thinking about finding and claiming my mate, much less having a kid."

"He's a pretty cool kid, though."

"He's amazing, but you remember how I was when I was young. What if?—"

I can't say the words out loud. My first few months of shifting, I had absolutely no control. My wolf was beyond wild, he was feral, and he hurt other shifters. We played too rough, didn't know our place, and never backed down from a challenge.

And to him, everything was a challenge.

I couldn't be around humans for fear I'd let my wolf take control in front of them. Even as Alpha, my father couldn't reign in my wolf, and the pack eventually turned on him.

On us.

I should've been put down, but my mother fought for me and my father refused the pack.

Then they came for us.

Nan was home from college on a two-week break. I was three moons into the change, shifting and running with my dad to near exhaustion nightly to get my wolf under control. One night we jogged up to find our living room engulfed in flames.

We got Nan out, but we were too late to save my mother. The pack swears it wasn't them—that it must have been humans I'd pissed off at school—but in the end it didn't matter. Once our mother was gone, our father lost his shit. He shifted and left us behind, never to come back. We have no idea if he is alive or dead, wolf or man. The rest of the pack turned their backs on me and cast us out, and Nan had to bring her asshole baby brother with her to college. Six months later I joined SpecOps Sierra where I met Sly, Erick, Kade, and Cricket.

"That's not going to happen." Sly shakes his head. "First of all, your mate is human, so any pups you have may never shift. If they do, and if they're wild, you have us to help you."

We both hear the shower turn on upstairs and he flashes me a wolfish grin. "Sounds like someone else is thinking about wooing."

I check in to find my wolf seemingly unaffected by this revelation, neither excited nor primed for more. What the fuck is going on with him? He's content just knowing she's here, and that's it? This doesn't make any sense.

I tune into my human heart, focusing on the myriad of feelings I had while spending time with her today. "I'm crazy about her. I think if we met under normal circumstances, we would've fallen in love the old-fashioned way. She's a good person, sweet and kind, beautiful and?—"

"And she's got the kind of curves that make your wolf howl."

My wolf sits up and bares his teeth, a low growl vibrating from my chest. "Watch it."

"Relax, Wiley. I'm not going to make a move on your mate." Sly puts his hands up and rolls his eyes. "Jesus. The mating call really does a number on you guys."

"Just wait until it happens to you." I rub my hand down my face, distracted by the image of her naked and slick with soapy suds. My body hardens in response as I use every ounce of self-control I have not to bound up the stairs to claim what's mine. But that's me talking, not my wolf, which again makes no fucking sense.

Maybe I need to talk to Kade about this shit, because he made it sound so much more dire than what I'm feeling right now.

Sly shakes his head and walks out of the kitchen, unaware of my inner turmoil. "No, thank you. Give me another ten years before I have to deal with that shit."

"You're of age. We all are. Hell, if Erick doesn't stumble upon his mate soon, he's going to have to start looking for her. Nan too."

He plops down in the recliner, but turns to look at me. "Speaking of which—have you looked at the dating site again?"

"No, I haven't had time. She's staying in Great Falls tonight, but I've been up her ass about shifting once every three days to keep balance."

"Oh yeah? What did she say to that?"

"She told me to mind my business and eat dirt."

Jimmy walks through the front door with a couple containers from the diner. "I brought dessert. Is Bo asleep?"

"Yeah." I nod. "I'm going to take Geneva out. Will you stay here with Sly and watch over Bo?"

"Of course. Uncle Jimmy reporting for duty." He salutes, something he's picked up from Cricket when he's being a sarcastic ass—although I think the humor is lost on Jimmy.

"Thanks." The shower overhead turns off and I pace impatiently, waiting for her to join me downstairs. Sweet Fates, I played the gentleman all day, fully aware a five-year-old was clocking my every move. He noticed my hand on the small of her back, or the few times I couldn't stop myself from leaning in and kissing her temple.

Surprisingly though, he didn't call me on it. Which makes me wonder what kind of interactions he witnessed between his mother and John.

In my mind, I can't call the man a father, because the asshole doesn't deserve the title. Part of being a great dad is being a role model by taking excellent care of your mate. You put her on a pedestal, making sure her needs are met, while ensuring you provide for the family. If you can't do those simple things, you shouldn't wear the title of father.

That's how my father was with my mother.

My inclination is to go to Spokane and take John out, but I doubt that's what Geneva would want me to do. Not that I believe she has any love lost for that man, but she doesn't strike me as the bloodthirsty type either.

Too bad. Because I would get rid of him in a heartbeat. Does that make me a bad person? Possibly, but I will do anything to protect her and Bo and give them peace of mind.

I hear the bathroom door open at the same time Sly and Jimmy settle in the living room and bring up one of the many video games we play.

Ten seconds and I hear no footsteps, just bated breath. I walk to the bottom of the stairs and look up the dark stairwell to find Geneva standing there looking beautiful. Our eyes lock in the darkness and I flash her a smile while lifting my hand to beckon her into my arms.

She exhales and returns my smile. Her steps are light as she descends the stairs and walks right into my open arms.

I pull her into my chest and breathe in her scent. Orange blossoms underneath manufactured orange blossoms. I wonder if that's why she's drawn to the body oil, because that's the scent I pick up despite the oil she didn't have until this afternoon. "Is Bo asleep?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to take a drive? Jimmy and Sly will stay here and watch over Bo."

"I don't kn?—"

"Or we can walk to the park. Or go next door to talk."

"Can we go next door? It's not that I don't trust Sly and Jimmy, but I'd never forgive myself if I wasn't within reach of him."

"It's okay. A protective momma offends none of us." I grab an insulated sack with a couple seltzer waters and a to-go container of dessert samplers. "Jimmy brought us treats from the diner."

"Hi, Sly. Hi, Jimmy." Geneva blushes as I take her hand and pull her past the guys who are doing their best to pretend like they don't know what I'm doing by leading my mate far away from them.

Well, Jimmy might not actually know, but I'll be lucky if Sly doesn't hear me making a move on her over his headset which is firmly affixed to his head.

Jimmy waves, also with a headset over his left ear. "Hey, Geneva."

"We'll be next door if Bo needs us," I say out loud for Geneva's benefit, not that the guys need to be told twice.

Sly flashes me a thumbs-up before grunting commands into his microphone at the other players online.

Geneva and I cross the lawn and enter my house for the second time today. Earlier I brought her and Bo over to show them the demolished kitchen and the bedrooms upstairs, neither of them realizing that one could be ours and the other could be Bo's. Geneva gave me some ideas for the kitchen, and I told her we'd grab some images online to talk over with Jimmy tomorrow on his day off. I think she's excited for the distraction, and I'm antsy to have her put her mark on what can be our home.

I close the door behind us and turn the lamp on in the living room.

"Did you get a chance to call your friend?" Geneva asks as she takes the seat in the middle of the couch again. I kind of love that she does that instead of curling up into an inaccessible ball in the corner.

"Yeah, I let him know we need new identification. He's going to call tomorrow so we can talk."

"Thank you."

I sit next to her on the couch, hand her a small spoon, and open the to-go container that has three different cakes and two pies.

"It pays to know someone who works at a restaurant." Geneva smiles. "It was the only way I ate from the time I was fifteen until I was twenty."

"What was your home life like?" I already know the basics from what Junta dug up, but I'd like her to tell her story in her own words.

"It wasn't pretty. My father is in prison, and probably will be for the rest of his life. My mother was an addict who did the best she could when she could, but she died when I was fourteen. I bounced around between my grandma and my aunt and stayed at friends' houses until I got my own place. Then I met John, and well, you know how that went." She shrugs. "How about you?"

Her father is in prison for second-degree murder and drug possession with the intent to distribute. Unfortunately for him, the guy he killed was an undercover cop. So yeah, he's never getting out.

"My home life was good for a long time. My family was loving and attentive—we were thriving, really—until I turned seventeen."

"What happened when you were seventeen?"

I think of how I can tell her without sharing the full story and all the gritty details. My wolf adjusts, curling into himself and tucking his head under his tail to hide from the shame. Deep down, we both know everything is our fault, and part of me has been waiting for almost ten years for my father to reappear and enact his vengeance on me for killing his mate.

"I was a hell raiser. I attracted a lot of attention and made a lot of enemies. We're not sure who, but someone set fire to our house. My mother was trapped inside and we couldn't save her. Losing her destroyed our father. He disappeared after that and Nan had to deal with me until I joined the SpecOps team where I met Sly and the other guys. They became my family and helped me clean up my shit."

Geneva puts down her spoon and reaches over to grab my hand. "That's horrible, but nothing you could've done as a teenager warrants setting fire to someone's house."

I shrug and cast my eyes down to our joined hands. Even though I gave her the condensed version of the story, it's more vulnerable than I've been with anyone in a long time. Nan and I don't talk about it, but maybe we should.

Maybe we should look for our father?

"They wanted us out. I don't think they meant to kill anyone, but?—"

My words are cut short as Geneva flings herself against my chest and wraps her arms around me. "I'm so sorry."

Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around her and pull her close until she has no choice but to crawl onto my lap. My wolf lifts his head and whimpers, and I finally understand why he's been quiet since we brought her and Bo home. He knows we don't deserve this—love and family—even if the Fates presented them to us. From the first whiff of her scent, he drove me to find and protect her, but he hasn't been as vocal about claiming or marking her.

Well, shit. That's only going to last for so long.

Shame might hold him at bay for one full moon, but by the second, we'll be too far gone to be reasoned with. Biology is biology, and there is no way I can let my mate go without losing a part of myself.

Of course, giving up my mate and relegating myself to live the rest of my life in solitude might be the only way my wolf believes we can atone for our past sins. We'll be like my father, heartbroken and utterly alone with the distinction that Geneva will be alive and moving on with her life without us.

Geneva sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. "This is nice."

"What is?" I place my chin on the top of her head and breathe in her scent.

"Spending time with someone who doesn't put me on edge. I feel like I can tell you anything without repercussions. Are you going to explain the uncanny calm you have over me?" She runs her nose up my throat and pulls her head back to look me in the eye. "And maybe tell me why you smell so good?"

A low growl reverberates from my throat as I open my eyes.

She sucks in her breath. "Or how you make your eyes do that? They shimmer like metal. I've noticed it's only when you look at me in moments like this."

"Like this?"

"Moments when we are intimately close."

"Do you believe in fate? Destiny? Cosmic forces or divine intervention?" I slide my palm onto her cheek and caress her fading bruises with my thumb.

Geneva melts into me, her lips parting, her eyes molten. It would be so easy to skip this conversation and kiss her, letting our insane chemistry run wild. "I don't know what I believe. Is there a higher power? Probably. Is my life mapped out for me by some invisible force? If so, they've done a pretty shitty job to date."

My lips twitch as I slide my thumb over her bottom lip. "I'm trying not to be offended."

"Why would that offend you?"

"Because you, sweet Geneva, are my Fated mate."

"Oh?" she says in a daze, the fog of lust and sensuality blinding us. These aren't my pheromones. My wolf's been silent on claiming and marking her, just pushing enough to keep her calm and make her feel safe with me.

This is the chemistry between us—as natural as it comes.

Fuck it. I'll explain the Fated mate thing later.

I eliminate the space between us, pressing my lips to hers while sliding my hand into her hair. Geneva moans, wrapping her fingers around my bicep and parting her lips to slide her tongue inside my mouth. She tastes better than I dreamed, sweet and decadent like the dessert on the table.

My wolf sits up and takes notice, his self-deprecating mood lifting the more turned on I get with our mate in my arms. I slide my hand under her ass, moving her to straddle my thighs, before twisting and laying her back on the sofa cushions.

"Anytime you want this to stop, tell me."

"I'm allowed to say no?" Geneva says breathlessly, which causes my head to snap back.

"Of course you're allowed to say no. If I overstep in any way, call me on my bullshit. Okay?"

Her eyes shimmer as she frames my face with her delicate hands. "Okay."

"I'm serious, Geneva. You are in control."

"Then kiss me, Wiley."

Fucking asshole. I think, as I press my lips to hers again. John needs to die for what he's done to her. I try not to think about that as I lose myself in Geneva's soft curves and even softer lips. I could kiss her for hours, content with having her in my arms.

She spreads her legs, letting my weight and burgeoning cock nestle into the apex between her warm thighs. My wolf sits up and sniffs the air, her arousal a sweet elixir that makes us forget any shame or regret holding us back.

She's ours and we are hers, whether we deserve her or not.

Trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck, she ratchets up my need when she hooks her leg around my lower back, driving me to grind against her hot center.

I could take her now, claim her in the first of many ways, but why rush this? I need her to understand how much I want her, not just for tonight, but forever. Is it fair to ask her to escape one man, only to run into the arms of another?

Probably not.

What the hell am I saying? It's definitely not fair, which only makes this harder.

Maybe that's why the Fates picked her—to remind me that my wild selfishness has no bounds.

"Should we go upstairs?" Her question forces me to pull back, lifting my weight off her.

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

She glances at the door. "In case somebody walks in on us."

"Nobody's walking into this house."

"Not even Sly?" She arches her brow.

"Maybe Sly, but it'll be much, much later." He'd check in with me telepathically first before opening the door. We've walked in on each other before, but as shifters, we know it's different with our mates.

We could stumble upon each other balls deep in a body and not blink twice. Hell, we could've tag teamed somebody and not thought anything about it. But our Fated mates are sacred and we don't share them with anyone.

"Don't you think it would be better for us not to be on the couch like this when he walks in?"

"Probably, but we don't have to go upstairs if you don't want to. I'm perfectly fine keeping it PG-13 down here."

Geneva bites her lip and glances down between our bodies. "I'm confused. I thought you wanted me."

Groaning, I lean my forehead against her breast bone while my wolf whines softly. "Of course, I want you. But with everything you've been through, I don't want to rush you."