Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Hello. Yes, she’s awake,” he said in response to Grace’s question. When she offered to bring a tray of food so that Jaime could have breakfast in bed, Dante’s wolf growled. It sounded like an offer of kindness, but he knew it was also the pack’s way of keeping Jaime apart from them. Stiffly, he said, “Thanks.”
Jaime glanced around the spacious room, noticing how different it was from her own. Not simply because of his very masculine oak furniture, but because it was obsessively neat and everything seemed to have its own place. It looked more like a showroom in a furniture store. By contrast, Jaime seemed to find order in chaos and tended to place something wherever there was space for it to go. She would bet that he would be horrified by some of her habits, like not putting CDs back into their cases and how she kicked her shoes off wherever she was stood at the time.
Dante actually had a shoe rack.
She was going to ask why he’d brought her here instead of taking her to her own room, but the answer quickly came to her. “You don’t trust me to be around the pack.”
“Actually, I brought you in here because I don’t trust you not to run.” That wasn’t entirely true
—he’d wanted her with him.
“And you’re hoping for some answers.”
“Not yet. First you need to eat.” She looked like the living dead, but he didn’t say that aloud, figuring it wouldn’t wash down well. They sat, studying each other in silence, until Grace knocked on the door. Without a word, Dante took the tray and gave her a simple nod of thanks. Going by the guilt that was plastered across her face, he guessed that she was feeling bad about the plan to keep Jaime slightly segregated, but that guilt didn’t placate Dante or his wolf.
The silence continued as they ate. As usual, Jaime had only two slices of toast and a mug of coffee, unlike Dante, who demolished a plate filled with eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, biscuits with gravy, and then a pile of pancakes with syrup. Well, he was a growing boy. Only then did he lean back in his seat. “Talk.”
Considering that he already knew most of her secret, there didn’t seem any harm in fully explaining it, particularly since she’d be banished either way. Jaime inhaled deeply. “My parents’
attack…I saw it. Gabe and I were supposed to be staying with our aunt and uncle for the night, but I’d forgotten to take Gabe’s blanket—he wouldn’t sleep without it. I went back to get it, and I heard voices before I even entered the cabin. I thought it was my parents arguing. They were happy together, but they were also very strong personalities, and it meant they argued a lot.
“But when I got inside, I smelled male wolves. I recognized one of the scents, knew it was my mom’s brother. I couldn’t hear every word, but I understood that the guys with him were people he owed money. They had brought him there to get the money. He was a compulsive gambler, always had been, and my mom had often helped him even against her better judgment. I should have gone to get help, I know, but it was like I was frozen stiff. And, well, I don’t seem to have a flight response anyway.”
Dante wondered why he hadn’t heard about this, but then he supposed that since he hadn’t been in contact with anyone from the Bjorn Pack since a few months ago, maybe it wasn’t all that surprising.
“Suddenly all hell broke loose in the kitchen. Everyone had shifted, and they were fighting. I don’t know if I made a noise or one of them scented me, but one of the males suddenly turned and leaped at me. I instantly shifted, gave my wolf the freedom she wanted to protect me. Instinctively, my wolf fought, but I’m pretty sure that if someone hadn’t overheard the noises and come to help, I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.
“I don’t remember an awful lot of what happened after that, because for the next few weeks my wolf wouldn’t calm down and let me resurface. She was frightened and confused and angry. She didn’t like it when others were close, saw everyone as a threat. She thought she still needed to protect me. It was three whole weeks before she let anyone near and eased back.” Dante could picture it so clearly in his mind. He remembered what her wolf looked like: jet black with a tuft of gray on the end of her tail, almost as if it had been dipped in paint. He envisioned her beautiful wolf pacing back and forth in a confined space, missing the touch of pack members but at the same time fearing it. Fearing every little noise, every unexpected movement, every person or wolf who came within close proximity of her.