Page 13 of Return to the Pack

“We have to keep you safe,” Axel says, nodding. “But you’re not alone anymore, little mate. You’re with a pack now. I’ll spread the word among the other members. We’ll all watch out for you. That’s what happens when you’re part of a pack. You’re being protected, not losing freedoms.”

“Thank you,” I say, lolling back against Daddy Warrick’s chest and rocking my hips against his hand. “You’re the best men a woman could ever have. I’m so lucky.”

The guys grow silent, and the only sound is the wet, sticky sound of my pussy being fingered.

Finally Ethan shoves back from the table. “For fuck’s sake, spread her legs and let me feast on that sweet cunt,” he says. “We can all smell what you’re doing.”

Warrick pushes back from the table, still holding me on his knee. He spreads my pussy lips, exposing my slick, pink inside to the other three men. Their eyes all lock on me, their nostrils flared. But it’s Ethan who drops to his knees, grips my knees, and pulls them open as wide as they’ll go. The others suck in a breath, and Ethan dives in, latching onto my exposed pussy, sucking greedily and thrusting his tongue into me, fucking me with his mouth until I come so hard I soak his beard and can’t move a muscle afterwards.

Chapter Five

Luna

The thought of being guarded at all times by Axel and the triplets should send me packing—but strangely, it doesn’t. It comforts me. I’ve been weirdly clingy and want them around me at all times. I don’t understand why I’m feeling this way. I’m also insatiable in wanting them in my bed at night. I need them with a ferocity I’ve never experienced before.

And, oddly, I’m less inclined to go anywhere. Maybe it’s because I was severely attacked twice now and almost lost my life to whoever wants me dead. Whatever the reason, when Warrick stomps through the back door, lines of stress drawing his eyebrows together, I immediately hurry toward him, abandoning my kitchen cleaning duties.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask.

Instantly, his features grow blank, and I know he’s got something to hide.

“Where have you been?” I sidle up to him, desperate to be close to him and draw strength from him. “What is it, Daddy Warrick?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong? Can’t a man walk through the door with a frown on his face? I was checking on my bike. It needs a tune-up.” He smiles and throws an arm around me, guiding me to the front room where Ethan, Axel, and Callan hang out. They’re listening to some head-banging metal music from the last century.

They love to listen to music like this, claiming that the music created well over a century ago, possesses an edginess and fierceness not found since.

“Hey, assholes,” Warrick says, removing his arm from my shoulder and turning down the volume so he can speak.

Instantly, I miss his warmth and the safety of his big body next to mine. This clinginess that’s come over me feels so foreign. Maybe it’s from losing Mama, and now that I have a new family, being afraid I’ll lose them, too.

“I need to talk with you for a sec, Axel. Actually, all of y’all,” Warrick grumbles.

“What about me?” I ask.

“You stay put, baby girl.” Warrick kisses the top of my head. “This is just some guy shit I need to talk about. It’s all aimed at keeping you safe.” He smiles at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in his sun-tanned face. “We’ll be right back.”

The boys tromp towards the back of the house, disappearing into Warrick’s room and closing the door behind them, effectively shutting me out.

I step toward their restored stereo equipment and turn the volume even lower, keeping my wolf ears pricked so I can maybe hear what they’re talking about. Then I pick up a few clothes from the floor and wander into the laundry room, which is right next to Warrick’s room. When we came back here after the hurricane, the place was a wreck, but Axel must have had them clean it up, because it’s just regular messy now. The beer cans and bottles are kept to a minimum, anyway.

The murmur of my men’s voices sounds like bees, but I can make out some of the words.

“Couldn’t find the motherfucker,” Warrick says. “But there’s a blood trail. He didn’t get far, guaranteed.”

A shiver launches up my spine. Are they talking about the wolf who attacked me? Is he still after me? Did he live?

My hands begin to shake.

“I did see the telltale tracks of a big, ol’ gator near where you said the body was located, Callan,” Warrick says.

As quietly as I can, I lift the lid of the washing machine and drop the clothes into it.

“Ha!” Callan says. “Maybe Frank had himself a tasty meal.”

Frank’s this ginormous alligator who lives in the swamp nearby. He scares the shit out of me, but if he ate the remains of that wolf, Frank’s my ally, for sure.

I reach for the laundry detergent, but once I turn on the washer, the sloshing sound drowns out their voices, and I can’t hear any more.