Heather sat up straighter, gripping her knees with both hands to avoid flinging herself at him. Never had she been so drawn to another human being. Her entire body went on full alert in reaction to his presence only feet away from her. In human form his pheromones brought the mating instinct closer to the surface. She needed him to claim her right now.
Why wasn’t he moving?
A deep inhale caused her to breathe in more of his scent until she grew dizzy with lust.
She licked her lips. “You don’t talk any more in human form than in wolf form.”
The dark man lifted his gaze from perusing her body to meet her eyes. He smiled…more like half smiled. “Marcus.”
Marcus
. She rolled the name around in her head. It suited him. Better than wolfboy or mutt, anyway.
She couldn’t hold still and found herself squirming around until she was on all fours, climbing across the mattress in his direction. “Are you just going to stand there?”
Marcus stepped back a pace, shocking her. He groaned and rolled his head toward the ceiling, swiping a hand down his face. “Stop that. You’re distracting me.”
She froze, glancing down at her body to realize what a sultry pose she’d assumed en route to her mate. She didn’t drop the position, however. Let him suffer.
“We need to talk.”
She lifted her gaze back to meet his. “We do. This is true. How about later?” Whatever the hell possessed her to be so bold, her cheeks flamed at the internal admission. She swallowed and shook the insanity from her head, trying to come up with something to say that wouldn’t make her sound so…needy. “I mean, there are so many things I want to know about you, but it won’t change the facts.”
“It might.” He stiffened, his eyes furrowing as he watched her.
Heather flinched. She swiveled around and sat on the edge of the bed. Why was this so difficult? She’d never met a man in her life who would turn down such a blatant offer for sex. Was this man not as attracted to her as she was to him? Surely fate wouldn’t fuck up something as important as this.
Her shoulders slumped as she exhaled, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Heather, there are things you need to know. I can’t claim you. It would be insensitive.”
“What?” she nearly shouted the word before she could rein it in. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. “Is this a one-way street?” she whispered.
“A one-way street? Oh. Hell no. Baby, I’m as attracted to you as you are to me. More so, I’m sure.”
“Really?” She opened her eyes, narrowing her gaze on him. Sarcasm oozed out with the one word. “Because I’m thinking you must be mistaken. If you were half as interested in claiming me as what I’m feeling, you wouldn’t be standing so far away staring at me as though I were a piranha.” That wasn’t entirely true. His look projected frustration more than anything else.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I’m not some random shifter who happened upon you in that field, baby. I was there on purpose. I came to talk to the Spencers. Encountering you wasn’t on the agenda.”
She flinched and then scooted back on the bed to put a bit more space between them. Obviously he wasn’t consumed with the same lust slamming into her. Her heart beat so loud, she thought he might be able to hear it.
He stepped forward. “That didn’t come out quite right.” He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it more than it already was and making her fight against moaning at the sexy look he unintentionally brought on.
Damn him. In addition to lust, she now felt a certain level of anger. And what was worse was it didn’t dampen the desire. The only saving grace so far in this conversation was the endearing way he kept calling her “baby” as though she truly did mean more to him than his stance and reluctance would indicate.
Marcus continued. “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of.”
“Haven’t we all?”
“Perhaps, but I think I win this time.” He took another step toward her. “You deserve to know more about me before you commit to me for life.”
At least he wasn’t discounting the idea of claiming her. She couldn’t imagine what he could say to dissuade her.
Another deep breath from Marcus. “My name is Marcus Cunningham.”
So?
“Does that ring a bell?”
She shook her head.
“My grandfather is Melvin Cunningham. He’s a member of The Head Council.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” What was he trying to say? That he was too good for her?
“He’s the leader of this estranged group that calls themselves the Romulus.”
Her eyes shot open wide. She scrambled backward now, putting more space between herself and Marcus. Perhaps Fate really had fucked up this time.
“See? Now do you understand the need for conversation? Or did you still want me to claim you right this second?”
She didn’t move an inch. Her breath was shallow. Fear ate a hole in her. If she screamed, would the Spencers still be in the other room to hear her?
He held out a hand. “I’m not going to hurt you, Heather. Ever. As of yesterday, you’re the most important person in my life, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that. But you deserve to make your own choices, and mating with me might not be on your short list. I assume it won’t. But I’m not a big enough asshole not to acknowledge that and provide you with the option to beg out.”
Heather didn’t move a muscle. She tried not to breathe deeply. Every time she did, his scent scrambled her brain. Her damn body didn’t give a hoot who he was or what he might have done. It wanted him anyway. Her belly was tight with arousal.
“To avoid redundancy, it would be best if I spoke to the Spencers at the same time as you. They need to hear everything I have to say also.”
She nodded, both relieved he wasn’t going to pounce on her and aggravated they needed to leave the room and face other people without mating. Was he a member of the Romulus himself? Why wasn’t he a superwolf?
Marcus turned toward the door to the bedroom and opened it. A second later, he reached down to grab something and spun back around. “The Spencers are good people, aren’t they?” he asked, holding up a pile of clothes.
Heather nodded again. “The best.” Of course they would leave him something to wear outside the door.
Marcus ducked back into the bathroom and returned moments later wearing loose jeans and a T-shirt. Not perfect fitting, but close.
She tried not to groan over the fact he was no longer nearly naked, his delicious chest now covered with cotton.
God, please don’t ruin my life by aligning me with the enemy
…
•●•
Marcus held her gaze as he stepped toward the door again. He reached out a hand and then dropped it just as fast, wiping his palm on his jeans. “Sorry, baby. I wish there was another way.” He ducked his head. “Come.”
The second he opened the door this time, he heard voices. The Spencers were waiting. Not surprising.
Heather followed behind, but not close enough to touch him. He couldn’t blame her.
“Oh good. You’re human,” Drake teased, the first to speak. His face fell immediately however.
Naturally. Marcus imagined the look on his face was enough to sober everyone.
“I’m Drake.” He extended a hand, his smile gone, replaced by a serious furrow of his brow.
“Marcus.”
Jerome stood. “Welcome.” He and Natalie came in from the kitchen area of the great room and sat on a love seat. “Please, sit.” He motioned toward the couch.
Marcus sat on the couch where Jerome indicated, but Heather didn’t sit next to him. Instead she chose an armchair nearby. Marcus waited for Scott to grab a seat. He figured Scott was about twenty-four. Drake was closer to thirty. And Marcus knew there was another son missing who fell between them in age.
Jerrod was no longer in the great room. Neither was Kenzie. Relief gave Marcus the courage to continue. At least he didn’t have to tell his tale in front of a young teen or the woman who would immediately recognize him from last year.
“First of all,” Marcus began, “let me thank you for taking me in, especially under the strange circumstances. I admit I have been wandering your property for several days trying to figure out a way to approach.” He glanced at his mate. “Heather ended that pretty quickly.” He glanced at her and then back at Jerome. Just having Heather in the room was a challenge. He needed her like he’d never craved anything in his life. It took every ounce of his strength to face these people first and let Heather decide if she was willing to give him a chance.
Before shifting, he’d envisioned Heather running from the room and never looking back. Now, however, he prayed to every imaginable god she might be able to give him a chance. That was how much stronger the mating call slammed into him once he was in human form.
“You’re welcome.” Jerome nodded. His brow was furrowed. “What brought you here?”
“Refuge, initially. I didn’t know where else to go. I don’t know how much of what I have to say you already know, but I suspect not all of it. And I’m sure you can shed light on several questions I have too. I’m very concerned about the direction of the shifter population.”
“As are we,” Jerome said. “It’s a mess, for sure.”
“Let me start by telling you my last name.”
Scott leaned forward. “What is it?”
“Cunningham.” He waited for his surname to sink in.
“As in Melvin Cunningham?” Natalie asked.
“The very one, yes. Do you know him?”
“Not personally,” she began, “but I’ve met him a few times. I know he’s one of the five Head Council elders.”
“Yes. He’s my grandfather. Though I’d hesitate to claim him as a blood relative these days.”
Jerome gasped. He leaned forward. “I didn’t realize he had a son?”
“He doesn’t. He has a daughter. My mother, Lora. But since she’s his only child and my father is a bit…well, let’s just say, he’s Granddad’s lackey, he took the name Cunningham when they married.”
Jerome furrowed his brow. “Okaaay. Go on.”
“The man has not been a good influence on me, that’s for sure.” Marcus glanced at everyone in the room as he spoke, gauging their reactions. So far no one was judging him. They all took his information in stride. Even Heather, whom he didn’t make eye contact with for fear he wouldn’t be able to continue.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat this. The man is a vile excuse for a living being. He pumped me full of drugs for years in my youth, telling my parents it was for my own good, that he was trying to bulk me up. That I was too skinny.” Marcus licked his lips, wishing he had a glass of water. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of his grandfather.
He continued. “When I was about nineteen, I started faking it, hiding the pills anywhere I could and not taking his weird concoctions. I know now he was using me for his experiments, like a guinea pig.”
Heather gasped.
“As soon as my head cleared, I was able to figure out my grandfather was a quack. At least that’s what I assumed at the time. He seemed harmless enough. Just some old guy who thought I needed steroids or something. I took control of my own life, joined a gym, and got stronger on my own. I’m sure nature had a hand in it also.”
“How old are you now?” Jerome asked.
“Twenty-six.”
“So it’s been over six years since you were under the influence of his drugs?” Marcus could tell Jerome fought hard to keep from leaping up and pacing the room in frustration, and he appreciated the sentiment. It was more than he’d ever gotten from his own father.
“With the exception of one other incident, yes. But I’ll come back to that.” He glanced at Drake, hating what he needed to tell the man. “I moved out of my parents’ home when I was twenty, got a job in construction, and assumed a normal life. At least until about a month ago.”
Jerome nodded. He didn’t interrupt. Everyone else sat very still. They must have been shocked. Marcus couldn’t blame them.
“I’ve always been in contact with my parents, especially my mother. My father, Carl, tends to think like my grandfather. Nevertheless, I ignored their idiosyncrasies most of my adult life. So, that particular Sunday afternoon I headed to my parents’ home for dinner and arrived in time to overhear them talking to my grandfather in the living room. Instead of entering the house, I eavesdropped from the porch and got an earful I’ll never forget.”
“I’ll bet. This is huge. Do you know that?” Jerome asked.
“I assumed.”
“So, Cunningham is the mole everyone’s been looking for within The Head Council.”
“Yes. I’m sure he is. The man runs that secret organization called the Romulus.”
When everyone nodded, he went on. They all knew about the Romulus. Probably far more than he knew.
“He’s grooming ordinary shifters to become some kind of superwolves.”
Jerome cocked one eyebrow. “He’s way past that, son. He’s been abundantly successful.”
Marcus nodded. “I gathered that when you all mentioned superwolves this morning. I assume you’ve seen them?”
Jerome shook his head. “Son, we’ve fought against them on this ranch.”
“I figured. Anyway, my grandfather’s goal that particular Sunday was to convince my mother he needed to bring me into the fold. I’m his only heir. He specifically mentioned some new research that would alter my genes and make me part of his army.”
Drake gasped. “I wonder if he’s found a way to alter shifters who don’t have the correct gene sequence. Did you get the impression he already had the capability?”
“Not sure, but he did say he had the financial backing of someone very wealthy, and he intended to use the man’s money to build his army and in return provide the manpower to do whatever the guy needed. It scared the fuck out of me.”
“How did you find us?”
“My grandfather told my parents that your family was harboring women who had been kidnapped from their mates.”
Jerome scowled. “You’re shitting me. That bastard. Those Romulus assholes were the ones who did the kidnapping. NAR went in to rescue those women, none of whom were mated.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. That’s why I came here. Took me a while, and when I arrived, I spent several days hanging back watching to make sure I hadn’t misjudged you.” Marcus glanced at Heather. Her eyes were huge saucers, and her mouth was open.