Her mother’s eyes widened and a scent drifted to Rachel’s nose—acidic and peppery—as she took a giant step back. “What has he done to you?”
“He hasn’t done anything to me.” She could have shared the truth with the woman who’d done a piss-poor job of raising her but she didn’t. Cindy didn’t deserve it. Not after everything her mother had done in the last decade.
“Don’t lie. I know what he is. I should have recognized it from the start—tanned, big, enormous muscles.” Her mother’s gaze drifted to the blood on the floor. “But I didn’t put two and two together until I saw his eyes. You didn’t either, did you? You brought him home and he changed you somehow.” Giving Declan a hateful look, she hissed, “He said he was your husband. Is that what they call it when they bite a human? Do you have any idea what he’s done?”
“They call it mating, actually.” For a moment she considered telling Cindy about Chloe and Jackson. The pair intended to marry to appease Chloe’s grandparents, even though being mated was union enough for the pack. Ultimately she decided not to, figuring her mother would hear the news when she visited a bar and got wind of the town gossip. “I was bitten, but not by him. Instead of being bitchy you might want to thank him for saving my life.”
Rachel braced herself and looked at Declan. She told herself it didn’t matter if he felt sorry for her. Most people did. To her surprise he didn’t look as though he pitied her. He looked pissed off, his gaze homed on her mother, his irises a bright shade of gold.
“We’ll go to the hospital.” Cindy stepped toward Rachel again. “They can help you. There has to be something they can do.”
“There’s nothing they can do,” Declan growled, shifting closer to them. “Human medicine won’t prevent what’s happening. The bite took hold. It’s in her blood.”
“What is happening?” her mother asked, glaring at him.
“I’m becoming one of them,” Rachel answered, trying not to let her fear at the thought show. “When the full moon comes, I’ll change.”
“No!” As her mother shouted she rushed to the phone. “I’m calling the police. They’ll make him leave and we’ll sort this out.” When Rachel started walking away she screamed, “I’ll file a missing persons report. You can leave but you won’t be able to hide.”
Declan stepped between the women, facing Rachel’s irate parent. “I want you to listen to me,” he warned, voice soft but clear. “We’re going to walk out that door. As soon as we do I’m contacting my Alpha, who’ll contact our people. Once he does the police will find out this is a pack matter. They’ll tell you what they tell every human who gets involved with our kind—there’s nothing they can do to help you.”
“You can’t keep me from her.”
“When she wants to talk to you,” he backed up one slow step at a time, “she’ll be in touch.”
Rachel didn’t know if she should hug him or bolt for the door. Uncertain, she wrapped her arm around his waist and edged closer to him. He rested his fingers over hers, the simple touch giving her the comfort she needed. Her mother was tipsy, not drunk. That meant Cindy needed money. If they didn’t go soon Rachel would have to share that she didn’t have any extra money to give. Customers had been scarce the last few months. Everything she had went to bills and necessities. Declan had seen her home so he knew she wasn’t rich. But he didn’t know just how bad things had become.
Resting her forehead against his back, she whispered, “Can we go?”
“Rach…” The way her mother said it made her cringe. She hadn’t gotten out quickly enough. Cindy Gentry might not care about her daughter but she cared about herself. “The electric bill was more than I expected this month. If I don’t take care of it by tomorrow they’ll shut it off.”
Declan shifted against her, giving her hand a reassuring pat. “Then you can stay here for a few days. We have to find a Realtor who can help get the house into shape before Rachel sells it anyway.”
“Sells it?” Cindy sounded mortified and furious.
“Yes, sells it,” he countered, brushing his fingers over Rachel’s. “She’s my mate. What’s mine is now hers. There’s nothing she needs here. There’s no reason to keep the house.”
In another time—hell, in another life—she’d have been outraged Declan had made such a huge declaration. Instead she took a look around, studying the home she’d lived in for years. The place wouldn’t last much longer. She’d been unable to maintain the roof so when it rained she had to place pans around the kitchen to keep the floor dry. No matter how often she cleaned, mold seemed to thrive near the windows. The wood around the door had dry rotted and the floor had started caving in certain places. The house was so different from Declan’s. Whereas his things were costly, well-designed and sturdy, hers were cheap, secondhand and falling apart.
Humiliation washed over her.
She didn’t want a Realtor to see the place. More than likely they’d refuse to help. Demolishing the house would probably be best. They’d get more for the land than they would the home. Shutting her eyes, she pictured her father. There were good memories in this place but not many. The negative outweighed the positive by far.
“I need to buy groceries,” Cindy said with a hint of desperation.
“That’s not my problem,” Rachel retorted, welcoming the anger that rose within her. The one woman who should have cared about her—her own mother—had forgotten everything that had happened to her daughter. Worse? The concern she’d shown earlier had vanished. Rachel usually blamed her mother’s condition for her behavior. Alcoholism was a disease. But enough was fucking enough. “And Declan’s wrong. You’re not welcome to stay here. Get out.”
“This is my home as much as yours. I’m the only family you have left.”
“You’re wrong.” With a small step to the side, she took Declan’s hand and faced the woman who’d made her life a living hell. Her father had left the house in trust until Rachel turned eighteen. She’d been unable to do anything about the money Cindy had blown through—funds that should have provided her a better upbringing. But she’d been able to take control of the house the minute she came of age. That much she’d made sure of. “This is my house and I’ll do whatever I want with it. And I have plenty of family. Chloe. Her grandparents.” Taking a deep breath, she finally accepted the reality of her situation. “Declan and the members of his pack.”
“You’re not thinking clearly.” Cindy pushed buttons on the phone. “You need help.”
Rachel released Declan’s hand and strode to her mother. She ripped the phone from her grasp. “You need to leave or I’m calling the police,” she said calmly, staring her mother in the eye. “It won’t be the first time they’ve hauled you off. Only this time I won’t bail you out. You’ll sit in a cell for a few days. It’d probably be the best thing for you.”
“Ungrateful little bitch.”
Her mother’s hand came up, poised to strike. She knew how the slap would feel—harsh and hot against her skin. This time Cindy’s palm didn’t make it, stopped as Rachel caught her mother’s wrist mid-swing. Her wolf snarled in her head, the fingers wrapped around delicate bones shaking. Rachel kept the beast back, trying to remain composed.
“I’m not going to be around to take care of you anymore.” She let go, trembling as adrenaline rushed through her system. “Get help, Mom. Go somewhere and get the help you need.”
Pivoting, she faced Declan.
For a long time she’d resented him, wishing he’d go away.
Now he represented the life she’d always wanted for herself.
He offered security and strength, promising to care for her in a way she’d always dreamed about. She’d seen how Jackson treated Chloe—doting on her, watching out for her, loving her beyond reason. A week ago she’d have sworn she didn’t want that for herself but it would have been a lie. The truth was she hadn’t wanted to ache for something she’d never have.