She’s the foretold one. She also can do things a normal werewolf can’t. Being the foretold one also puts her at risk of being used as a figurehead if an unscrupulous werewolf ever got his or her hands on her. That’s where my sister, brothers and I come in. We’re Roxie’s Protectors.”
Daylen ran an appreciative gaze over the front of Jager. The sight of his naked body made her wish they could stay in bed. The man hadn’t lied when he said he could keep an erection after coming over and over again.
Jerking her gaze back up to Jager’s face, she said, “So you and your family are her bodyguards? And why do you sometimes call them your brothers-or sister-in-arms at times and just brothers and sister at others?”
“I guess we’re closer to being bodyguards than anything else. We’ve trained for centuries waiting for Roxie to be found. As for your other question, we all aren’t really related. I have two true brothers—Roan and Skylar. As for the others, they were lone wolves same as my brothers and I were. It was Saskia’s grandmother who brought us all together to train and basically form our own pack, with Saskia, my sister, as the pack leader.”
Daylen listened to the rest of Jager’s explanation, but her mind had sort of frozen on the part where he’d said he and his family had trained for centuries while they waited for Roxie. Centuries? She also then remembered his comment from the night before about werewolves being almost immortal. Could Jager really be that old? Daylen felt the blood drain away from her face when she thought about his penchant for carrying a sword. If he’d lived through a time when carrying one was part of everyday life, it would explain why he was so comfortable having it strapped to his waist.
Jager gave her a concerned look. “Daylen? Are you all right? You’ve gotten awfully pale all of a sudden.”
“You said last night that werewolves were almost immortal. How old are you, Jager?”
In a matter-of-fact tone, he said, “I’m one thousand and ten. Since you asked me my age, what’s yours?”
“I’m just a measly thirty years old,” she said with more calm that she actually felt.
Yup, at over a thousand years old, Jager was an official card-carrying medieval warrior. The sword now made perfect sense. His great age had her verging on wanting to laugh hysterically out loud. And not in a good way. She’d just spent the night screwing the brains out of a man who had seen history in the making.
Coming to sit on the bed next to her, Jager lifted her into an upright position and took her in his arms. He rubbed a large hand up and down her back. “Just breathe, Daylen. I guess I shouldn’t have just dropped the age thing on you like that.”
“It’s okay. I had to find out sometime.” Daylen pushed away from Jager and slid out of the bed on the opposite side. “I’ll hurry in the bathroom so you can have it after me.”
Before Jager could say anything to her, she raced into the en suite and closed the door behind her, turning the lock once it clicked into place. She leaned her forehead against the back of the door and took a couple deep breaths. She was definitely in over her head.
Once she’d splashed some cold water on her face, Daylen had pulled herself together enough so she could face Jager again. When she stepped back into the bedroom, Jager didn’t say anything as he walked past her and into the bathroom. By the time he had finished up, Daylen was dressed.
They were now on their way downstairs and they still hadn’t said a word to each other. Before they reached the last step, Jager pulled her to a halt. Daylen gave him a questioning look.
“Just so you aren’t caught off guard,” he said, “you’re about to meet my entire family as well as Roxie and her mate. I can smell all their scents. I know I’ve dumped a lot on you already. If you’d rather not be around a bunch of werewolves right now, I’ll tell them to get lost.”
Daylen slipped her hand in his. She was not the type of woman to back down from anything. She was starting to get herself back on an even keel. If she could accept that Jager was a werewolf, she’d have to come to grips with how old he was. They had yet to discuss how things were going to go from here now that they’d slept together, but Daylen had a feeling she was about to find out exactly what it meant to be considered Jager’s mate.
Jager guided Daylen into a spacious living room with a large LCD television and a couple long black leather couches. Along with those pieces of furniture, there were a couple of matching black leather armchairs. Most of the seating was already taken up by Jager’s family. There was only an empty spot on one of the couches.
All heads turned Daylen and Jager’s way when they stepped into the room. She recognized Kye, who sat in one of the armchairs. He smiled at her. Two of the men sitting on one of the couches looked so similar to Jager that Daylen guessed them to be his true brothers, Roan and Skylar. One of them wore his hair almost as long as Jager did, while the other’s brushed the tops of his shoulders. All three men shared the same hair color and the same light blue eyes. One had his arm around the shoulders of a woman.
The one thing Daylen immediately noticed was how extremely good-looking most of the occupants of the room were. The only ones who didn’t have the supermodel look going on, though they were no means bad looking, was the woman who sat next to one of Jager’s brothers, the man sitting beside a woman with white blonde hair, and the woman with golden brown hair who happened to be glaring daggers at Jager. If Daylen had to guess, she would say that was Roxie.
Jager led Daylen over to stand in front of the television and turned them both so they faced the others in the room. He then introduced her to everyone, leaving the man and woman who sat together in one of the armchairs for last.
“That’s Roxie over there, and the man whose lap she is sitting on is Beowulf, her mate,” Jager said.
Daylen smiled. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
Roxie slid off her mate’s lap and moved to stand in front of Daylen and Jager. She glared at Jager, then turned a smile on Daylen. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Daylen, though I heard you were brought here under duress.”
“Jager and I sorted it out in the end.”
“You two may have sorted it out,” Roxie said, “but I would like to know if Jager left out some major details.”
“Did you run out and tell Roxie as soon as you left here last night?” Jager asked Kye as he turned his gaze on him. “I figured she would find out eventually. I just wasn’t expecting someone to tell her so soon.”
Kye shrugged. “What can I say? I went to Wulf’s Den last night, and Roxie asked if I’d seen you before I arrived. I’m sorry, bro, but when she threatened to do all kinds of nasty things to me if I didn’t talk, I caved.”
Roxie loudly cleared her throat. “Well, I’m waiting, Jager. Did you tell Daylen everything?”
Not sure what everything actually was, Daylen decided to take some of the heat off Jager. “He did tell me about his knowing I was his mate as soon as he smelled my scent, and about the mating urge. He also told me how werewolves are almost immortal, and that he is over a thousand years old.”
“And that was it?” Roxie asked with exasperation tingeing her words. “Incredible.
Just incredible. So he never mentioned what it meant when you made love for the first time and your souls joined. And you have to tell me you felt it. It isn’t exactly something that just slides by without you noticing.”
Daylen looked from Roxie to Jager, who happened to look a smidgeon guilty about something, and then back to Roxie again. “So that’s what that was. Jager never said anything about it. I thought maybe I had imagined it.”