His brother shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. It’s—”
Mia placed a hand on Ty’s arm, cutting his brother off. The Itana’s attention was entirely on Trista and Keen refocused on the woman at his side. She tried to put on a brave front, but even he saw the stark whiteness of her face. It was then he sensed the trembles that traveled from her hands to his and her whole body seemed to buzz with suppressed fear. Cold. Hard. Fear.
She’d been more pissed than afraid of Keen, but she quivered beneath the strength of Ty’s glare.
Unacceptable.
He opened his mouth to blast his brother, but Mia beat him to it.
“Ty, she’s coming inside.”
His brother flung his arm out, gesturing toward Trista. “She smells familiar, Mia. And there’s something else. She’s—”
“She’s part hyena and from Boyne Falls. I’d be surprised if she didn’t. Now, she’s coming inside. Right this second.” Mia looked at Keen. “Do you want her in the guestroom that connects to yours?”
That had Trista freezing, but he didn’t take a moment to ask her why. He knew she didn’t trust him and he hadn’t given her reason to. But he had sanctuary within his grasp and he wasn’t going to squander the opportunity.
“Yes. That room is perfect.”
Mia flashed him a smile, wide and with a hint of happiness. “Good.” She removed her hand from Ty and turned toward the front door. “Come on in, then.”
Ignoring his brother’s glare, he tugged Trista up the steps. He made sure his body remained between the woman at his side and Ty as they passed. A low, rumbling growl came from Ty, quickly followed by renewed tremors from Trista. Keen curled his lip and exposed a rapidly lengthening fang.
He would take on Ty for Trista. Take him on and win.
He didn’t realize he’d stopped until Trista tugged on their joined hands, urging him to continue moving forward. He fought to keep his gaze intent on Ty’s, but eventually he was forced to look away, to follow the woman into the clan den.
They moved down familiar hallways, delving deeper into the house until they came to a stop near Keen’s suite.
When they reached the two doorways, Mia turned back to them. Her hand continued to stroke her large belly, palm gliding over her roundness in what he assumed was a soothing motion. The larger she got, the more often he found her rubbing her stomach.
“Here you are, then.” Her smile was a little more forced, but still held a hint of welcome. “I’ll just get Trista settled and then I’ll see you two in the morning.”
Keen wasn’t sure it was a good idea for the two women to be alone. In fact, if Ty found Trista’s scent on his mate, it might send him over the edge.
“I can—”
Mia cut in. “Go to bed and we’ll see you in the morning.”
Trista’s expression pleaded with him, begged him not to allow Mia to pull her away, but Mia was the Itana. And while his inner-bear had problems with Ty, it had nothing but respect for their Itana.
Mia reached for the door on the left and turned the knob, allowing the panel to swing wide and grant the women entrance. He knew what they’d find. The room was decorated much like his own. Solid dark wood furniture with deep colors that weren’t overly masculine, but weren’t feminine either. Dear God, it was unisex. Plain. Interchangeable with any other guestroom in the world.
No hint of his personality lingered in the two bedrooms and it made him realize even more about himself. He was a guest in his own home. His mother had decorated the rooms when he was younger and it was as if his parents knew he was only passing through. He wouldn’t settle in the clan den.
They knew he’d leave someday and they hadn’t bothered trying to suit his tastes.
“Keen?” Trista’s soft voice tugged him from the sudden realization that he’d never been meant to stay in the clan den—hell, maybe even Grayslake—for the rest of his life.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “Right. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
His hand shook as he reached for his bedroom door, arm trembling as the truth sunk into his bones.
Keen’s home wasn’t in Grayslake, maybe not even in Georgia. Catching one last glimpse of Trista as the door swung shut made him realize one other truth. He might not be meant for Georgia, but maybe, just maybe, he
was
meant for Trista.
*
Trista was gonna die. Plain and simple. Dead and gone and buried before she had a chance to finish her horrible, hand-to-mouth existence.
Was this how her mother felt?
She didn’t have time to follow that line of thought because suddenly she found herself following a waddling Itana into a bedroom. The space was filled with solid furniture. Nothing fancy, but obviously high quality with shining dark wood polished to a smooth shine. The bedspread sported a deep red. Not one of passion, but of comfort and warmth.
“Well, this is it.” Mia made her way through the room. “There are extra clothes in the dressers. Just sweats and stuff. Nothing fancy.” The woman turned and pointed at a closed door nearby. “That’s the bathroom. It’s got a shower and all that. It’s a Jack and Jill which means Keen uses it as well. I’m sure he won’t just come barging in or anything.” The Itana blushed. “You can trust him. More than anyone else here, you can trust him.”
Trista stared at the closed door. The white, carved panel taunted her. It scared her and intrigued her in equal measure. Would he come in while she slept? And if he did, what would happen?
“Why?” She refocused on Mia. “Why can I trust him?”
Mia frowned and turned her attention to the ground as if gathering her thoughts. She finally sighed and waddled toward a chair near the large bay window. “Keen is…” She leaned back, hands resting atop her protruding stomach. “Sit down for a minute.”
Trista did as asked, climbing onto the bed and settling on the soft mattress. As soon as she was situated, Mia spoke again.
“I know he seems like a ladies’ man and all that. He pretends to be so lighthearted and uncaring, but that’s not…” Mia paused, seeming to gather her thoughts. “Keen is the brother they don’t think about.” Trista furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to comment, but the Itana kept going. “He’s much younger than Ty, Van, and Isaac. And he doesn’t have an official purpose in the clan. Well, he did, but he stepped down this morning.”
Mia shook her head. “Anyway. Ty was raised as the Itan, Van as the Enforcer, and Isaac as the Healer.” She shrugged and continued. “Unfortunately, that left Keen to his own devices. It allowed him to grow and develop without limitations. I don’t want you to think his parents didn’t care enough to raise him, but with securing the clan’s future…” She shook her head and fell silent. “He’s strong—stronger than even Ty realizes, I think—and could lead his own clan if he wanted.”
“That’s… but…”
“Yeah.” Mia gave her a rueful smile. “I know. He just… he’s so much more than this clan, than being disrespected as the Keeper and constantly thought of as simply a bothersome younger brother.” The Itana looked at Trista. “I’m hoping you can help with that.”
“I’m nothing, Itana.”
“Mia. And you are something.”
Trista gulped. “No, I’m nothing. I’m the bastard daughter of—” She swallowed the words. Admitting her parentage at this point would only cause problems. Problems she didn’t need. She already had enough. “I don’t see where I could help anything.”
“Are you aware of what happened between the bears and hyenas?”
She shook her head. No, she’d just known that her kind pissed off the Itan. A lot.
“It boils down to the hyenas helping my uncle in his attempt to take control of my hometown. The Alpha held my adopted son—my baby cousin Parker—captive while my cousin Griss attacked the clan house.” The Itana seemed lost in memories. “Keen had the den outfitted with caches of guns. Without a word, he’d prepped the den with ways to defend us. And when I wandered after him into the living room, he took bullets for me. Several hit his chest, and his only thought was for my safety. He’s more than he seems and better than most bears in the clan.” Mia lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sometimes even better than Ty.”
Trista swallowed past the lump in her throat and pushed down the desire to hunt Keen, to assure herself and that hint of beast inside her that he was safe and whole. She didn’t want to ponder the desires, didn’t want to examine them too closely, but she couldn’t banish them entirely.
“Before then, he worked to capture Griss and his accomplice. Then he negotiated and collaborated with the Southeast Itan.” Mia focused on her. “All without fanfare or acknowledgment from his brothers. Hell, even after everything was said and done, no one said a word. He’s the one no one considers or thinks about, Trista. Only… only I don’t think that’s the case with you.”
She swallowed her agreement, refusing to admit that from the first instant she’d seen Keen, she’d done nothing but think about him. True, it’d only been a few hours since their paths collided, but he’d filled every inch of her brain. And when her mind told her to run far and fast—she was screwing with her safety by staying with him—her heart said “fuck off.”
“He even became Keeper by default. No one gave him the title or completed the ceremony to welcome him to the inner-circle. He just… was.”
Keeper. That’s how he knew the laws, how he knew she was able to stay in Grayslake and spend time in Boyne Falls and Redby. “How long has he been the Keeper?”
“Almost seven months.”
Trista closed her eyes. “He knows the laws as well as I do.”
And I’ve been living by them since I could talk.
“I imagine so, but for different reasons.”
Trista opened her eyes and looked to the Itana. The knowing look on the woman’s face had her jumping from the bed and moving away from Mia. She walked around the room, looking everywhere but at the woman seated near the window.
“I should”—she licked her lips—“I should get to sleep. It’s late and I have to be out of here in,” Trista looked at her watch, at the countdown that displayed on the face, “five hours.”
The rustle of cloth followed by a low grunt announced Mia’s rise and the soft shuffle of her feet across the carpet allowed Trista to track her progress. The woman paused beside her. “I suppose the time is significant.”
“Yes.” She wouldn’t say more, wouldn’t admit to the loopholes that let her flit from place to place.
“And Keen knows its importance.”
“Yes.” There was no doubt he knew. A Keeper would understand, would see the laws from all angles and advise the Itan. Maybe he was more than a guy who jumped from bed to bed.
But he wasn’t a Keeper. That thought made her wonder if he’d explain things to Ty or just let it go. She prayed he’d let it go, that she’d get out of Grayslake before it became an issue.
“Good night, then.” Mia rested a hand on Trista’s shoulder, rubbing her back slightly, and she fought the urge to flinch. “Remember that you’re safe. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” she whispered and held her breath as she waited for Mia to leave. When the door clicked shut, she released the air in her lungs. Without hesitation, she rushed to the bedroom door and flicked the lock, securing her against… no one.
If a bear wanted in, it’d get in. With luck, the time it’d take to bust down the door would give her a chance to escape through the window.
Trista judged the distance between the bed and the door. A lot of luck.
Maybe sleeping in the chair would be a good idea. She could prop her feet on the window sill and—
A low rumble reached her, a sound not familiar to her, and she spun to face whatever approached. Instead of finding some sort of threat, she spied Keen standing in the bathroom doorway.
She jumped and gasped. “You scared me.”
Way to go, Captain Obvious.
He was a full werebear and could rely on his animal’s senses. He could smell that he frightened her.
Keen grimaced. “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you have everything you need.”
She nodded, pointedly ignoring the bed that lay between them.
“Good, good,” he nodded. “I, uh…” It was his turn to ignore her. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
He pretended that he hadn’t heard Mia’s words. But there was no way he didn’t know what they’d discussed—she didn’t imagine the doors were all that thick—but she let him cling to the pretense.
Keen stepped back, sliding the door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the strange room.
She didn’t sense movement in the bathroom and she was half tempted to take a shower, but stopped herself. Stripping and stepping beneath the water would leave her vulnerable to him, to the others in the den.
Instead, she settled for digging through the drawers and snaring a pair of large shorts and a T-shirt. She undressed and then tugged on the borrowed clothing, much more comfortable now.
Leaving her clothes in a folded pile, she moved to the bed and grabbed the top comforter and a few pillows. In no time she’d set up a comfy bed in the large chair and propped her feet on the window sill. Not the best bed, but better than some she’d endured through her life.
With a sigh, she settled in to sleep. It was one night. One night in the lion, er, bear’s den and then she could hunt for a place to stay tomorrow.
And she would not think about the delicious Keen Abrams who slept in the room next door. She wouldn’t entertain any thoughts of him in his bed—shirtless or nude?—and what it’d be like to touch him.
Trista demanded her mind leave daydreams of his hands on her alone.
Instead, she was faced with other things. Her thoughts were awash with Mia’s words and her own memories.
Thinking about Keen’s childhood, his life until now, had her wondering which was worse: indifference or hatred.
With that question tumbling through her, she relaxed into her makeshift bed, ready for sleep to pull her from her worries and allow her to push them aside for the night.
Even as she drifted to sleep, one question continued to swirl inside her.
Is it worse to have your family not care enough to know you or for your family to care so much they want you dead?