Standing between three ferocious wolves, she put out her hands. “Stop. Please stop.” She made sure she included the rest of her pack in that order. Hank and Teague were already inching forward, ready to shift and wade into the fight. Kevin stood beside Neema, his arm around her slender shoulders.
Michael lunged forward, huge jaw snapping. Isaiah used his massive body to knock her down, standing in front of her, protecting her from her own sons.
She reached up and grabbed him around his thick shoulders. “Please don’t hurt them,” she begged. She had no doubt that he was capable of killing both of them without hesitation. There was a wildness in Isaiah, a darkness. It drew her to him even as it sometimes frightened her. She hadn’t been around a male werewolf this aggressive since she’d fled her pack years ago. She’d forgotten just how dangerous they could be.
God, how had this happened? Her pack was in turmoil. She dug her fingers into Isaiah’s fur and dragged herself up beside him. “Please.”
Her son shot her a glare. She could see and sense the wounded male pride. She wanted to smack him. She’d had enough male posturing to last her a lifetime, and she still had about four hundred years left to live, give or take a few decades.
“Stop it,” she told both her sons. “You’re no match for him. Not yet. Maybe in a few years.”
Isaiah snorted, and she dug her fingers into his fur in warning and was surprised when he subsided. His teeth were still bared, but at least he was no longer straining against her hold.
“Everyone back off and get dressed so we can sort this out.” This was such a mess. She glanced around when she sensed them all hesitating. “It’s too dangerous to be exposed for this long,” she reminded them.
That did the trick. Both her sons whirled around and disappeared. She sighed with relief, slowly releasing the chokehold she had on Isaiah. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her life had turned upside down.
Isaiah took her hand in his mouth and tugged.
“No way am I going with you. I have to get dressed.” She shivered. It was cold this late in October.
She yanked her hand from his mouth and stalked off. His feet padded silently behind her, but she knew he was there. He didn’t stop, but disappeared into the bushes beyond where she’d left her clothing.
She dressed quickly, knowing she wouldn’t have much time. The rest of her family was waiting in the clearing when she arrived. Michael was angry. He was pacing, the muscles in his jaw working furiously. And Benjamin, her calm son, didn’t look much better.
Teague was on full alert with Neema tucked beneath his arm. Kevin was quiet. Watchful. Hank came immediately to her side. “Are you okay?”
She was anything but okay, but she nodded. “Thanks.”
Michael stopped pacing and everyone froze as Isaiah strode into the clearing, taking up a stand beside her. It irritated her even as it warmed her that he’d stand beside her during a challenge. Still, he shouldn’t have interfered and she told him so.
“This isn’t your business,” she began.
“He attacked you. That made it my business.” That calm, skewed male logic made her want to scream.
She ground her back teeth together to keep from doing just that. When she’d regained some semblance of calm, she went on the offensive. “You’re not a part of this pack. Just because we had sex, it doesn’t give you any right to interfere in my life. Challenge was issued and was being met when you jumped in.”
A blast of cold hit her and it wasn’t from the cool autumn air. Isaiah’s dark brown eyes went almost black and his glare was icy. There was no sign of the playful lover from last night. This was a very dangerous wolf who was used to taking orders from no one. She wondered how he fit into his own pack, as it was obvious he was not a follower.
She wanted to back away from his frigid glare, but stood her ground. His gaze swept over her small, ragtag pack. Most of them were barely adults in their culture. The oldest was forty, which was around late-twenties in humans. She had no idea how old Isaiah was, but she sensed he’d never been young. Whatever had shaped his life had turned him into a fighter, hardening him against the world at a young age.
She hated hurting him, but it couldn’t be helped. He was going back to his pack and she was staying here with hers. Or what was left of it. After tonight, she had no idea what would happen.
“Forgive me for overstepping my boundaries.” His formal tones dripped with disdain. “I should have realized I was nothing but a quick fuck. Glad I could be of service.”
His brutal words sliced her to the bone. But that’s what she’d done to him. She’d taken something beautiful between them and reduced it to a few hours of meaningless sex.
She reached her hand out to him, blinking back tears that threatened. He stepped out of reach as if he didn’t want her to touch him, as though it was somehow distasteful.
She bit her bottom lip and watched as he turned and walked away. No fanfare. No anger. That was worse than if he’d stomped off. It was as though he’d dismissed her, indeed all of them, from his thoughts and his life.
He looked so alone as the night swallowed him up. She wanted to cry for him, for her and for what they might have had together.
The pain almost brought her to her knees. His name was on her lips but she fought to keep it inside her. Even if she wanted to be with him, she couldn’t risk the lives of her four half-breed, adopted children. Isaiah was so powerful, so deadly, that if he objected to half-breed werewolves, as most did, he could easily kill them.
Her body began to shake. The trembling began in her knees and worked its way up her body until her teeth were chattering. She was so cold.
“Mom.” It was Michael. His arm went around her and she glanced up at him. He sucked in a breath, making her wonder just how devastated she looked.
“Come on. Let’s go home.” All his anger seemed to be gone.
Suddenly, she was tired. No, she was beyond tired. Bone-deep weariness dragged at her. For decades, she’d kept her small pack safe from hunters and those werewolves who would want some of her children dead. The only moments of true peace she’d experienced in all that time was in Isaiah’s arms and she’d just sent him away.
“Mom?” Michael sounded concerned now. All of them were. She could see it in their faces as they looked to her for direction. For the first time ever, she couldn’t care enough to reassure them.
Benjamin took over. “Come on. Let’s get moving.” His eyes tracked around the woods. “I’m feeling exposed all of a sudden.”
The tinge of fear in his voice snapped her out of her depression enough for her to notice how quiet it suddenly was. Too quiet. She caught a scent on the air and it made her blood run cold.
“Run,” she yelled, just as a shot cracked the air. Benjamin gave a cry, clutched his shoulder and fell to the ground. Hank ran to his side.
Meredith saw red, tearing at her clothing and shifting on the fly, she headed for the direction of the shot, ignoring the frantic cries of her sons behind her.
Chapter Eleven
Ice encased Isaiah as he walked away from Meredith. Obviously he’d been wrong about what had happened between them. Or maybe it was all one-sided. Maybe he was the only one who’d experienced the soul-deep connection.
With each step he took away from her, he felt as though his guts had been torn out and were dragging on the ground beside him. His chest ached and his brain wanted to explode.
Not his business. Not his business.
Her words echoed in his head, beating at him like a sledgehammer. He wanted it to be his business.