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“Of course.” The woman smiled at him now, and Jaemus rather liked her smile.

  He took Reardon’s hand and allowed his brother to pull him to his feet while the woman—Brandy—scooted under his left arm and Reardon supported under his right one. Slowly, the three of them made their way past the house to another building.

  “What is this place?” Jaemus asked, hesitating. He didn’t know anything about this woman, and what he knew of his brother didn’t exactly encourage his trust.

  “Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary,” Brandy said. “I’m a wildlife biologist. I help injured wolves.” The way she said wolves and looked him directly in the eyes told Jaemus she knew what he and his brother were.

  In fact…

  Jaemus leaned closer to Brandy and inhaled deeply. She smelled… familiar.

  “Yeah,” she said, sliding out from under his arm to open the door to the building in front of them. “I’m like you.”

  Jaemus immediately shot his gaze to Reardon. “You turned her? You didn’t learn your lesson?”

  “Oh, I learned it all right, but this is different.” Reardon glanced at Brandy and Jaemus could smell the arousal coming off both of them. It nearly overwhelmed him.

  “I wanted him to turn me.” Brandy motioned them inside and Reardon guided him through the door to a large silver table.

  “And Flidae let you?” Jaemus regarded Reardon. He found it hard to believe the goddess would allow such a thing. She’d been furious enough to scatter the men as punishment so why would turning this woman not further enrage her?

  “She’s my soul mate.” Reardon slid an arm around Brandy and pulled her up against his side. He pressed his lips to her temple, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

  Brandy closed her eyes and let out a rumbling growl that came from deep in her throat. There was no doubt that what they’d said was true. Soul mates. The scent in the air was more than enough proof of their bond.

  “Even in punishment, you win, don’t you, Reardon?” Jaemus’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding against each other.

  “I fought for this win, brother, just like all our other victories.” Reardon folded his arms across his broad chest as if he were gearing up for a fight.

  If only I had the strength. But Jaemus didn’t. The cuts all over his body stung, his muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was powerfully hungry.

  “There’s a shower through there.” Brandy pointed to a narrow hallway. “Why don’t you clean up, Jaemus, and then I’ll see to these cuts, okay?”

  “The cuts will heal,” he said, not tearing his gaze off his brother and silently challenging him to be the first to look away.

  “True, but I can make it happen faster and less likely to scar with a little science,” Brandy said.

  When Jaemus finally focused on Brandy, he asked, “What’s a shower?”

  “Oh, umm… right.” She turned to face Reardon. “How did you know what a shower was when you first came here?”

  “I spent enough time here as a wolf to see Parker use this one in the clinic.”

  “I see. Amazing what you can learn just by watching.” Brandy chewed on her bottom lip as if she were studying Jaemus.

  He didn’t like that. He wasn’t some menagerie oddity. Some strange and exotic beast.

  I’m a man.

  Flidae’s chuckle echoed in his skull. You’re more than a man.

  And gods be damned, he didn’t want to be.

  “Reardon, show him how the shower works while I prep out here.” She gave Reardon a little shove toward the hallway.

  Jaemus found some amusement in watching this slender woman command his hulking brother. If that was what finding one’s soul mate meant, he was content to never find his. He once listened to the orders of his brother and that blind allegiance hadn’t rewarded him in the end. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With anyone.

  Still, if a shower meant getting clean, he was definitely interested. He’d bathed on the island in the sea, but he had never been quite rid of the grit. His wolf nose smelled his own stench as well, so he followed Reardon.

  After sticking his hand behind a curtain, Reardon made water rain down from a silver spout stuck in the wall. Steam curled up from the spray.

  “It’s hot?” Jaemus stepped closer.

  “One of many conveniences this time and place has.” Reardon rested his hand on Jaemus’s shoulder, but Jaemus shrugged it off. His brother put his hands up in surrender and took a step back. “Towels are here.” He pointed to a stack of fluffy, folded pieces of fabric then left the room.

  Jaemus stepped into the big white basin that caught the water and let out a groan when the liquid heat hit his skin. He stuck his head under the spray, dirt and blood immediately collecting at his feet. It mixed with the water then swirled down a grate in the basin. He had no idea where it was all going, but getting it off him felt wonderful.

  A green bar sat on a small shelf and he picked it up. Finding it slick but pleasing in fragrance, Jaemus rubbed it along his flesh until suds built up and removed the grime covering him. As a warrior, he’d spent a great deal of time dirty, bloody, and sweaty, but they’d always found somewhere to bathe. His time on the island had been the longest he’d gone without a proper rinsing, and he’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be clean.

  He washed his hair and spent a few moments letting the heat of the water—how did they get it hot like this?—massage his aching body. When his fingers wrinkled, he turned a knob on the wall and the water ceased to spray. Amazing.

  After stepping out of the basin, he grabbed a towel and dried himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it, preparing to go back out to the larger room because he didn’t have any other course of action at the moment.

  Jaemus made for the closed door, but something moving caught his attention on the wall. He backed up and realized his reflection stared back at him. He’d definitely seen better days. His hair was now clean but in complete disarray and a scraggly beard covered his lower face. His eyes were less golden brown and more bloodshot and that scar on his cheek was deeper than he’d envisioned.

  He looked feral.

  Flidae was right. He wasn’t only a man anymore. He was a wild animal too. Maybe more wild animal than man.

  A soft knock on the door made him flinch.

  “Jaemus.” Brandy’s voice. A quiet, kind voice. “Are you decent?”

  Decent? Probably never again.

  He reached over and opened the door to her smiling face. Gods, she was beautiful. Figures Reardon would find her. Lucky bastard.

  “Well, clean looks good on you.” She pointed to his hair then his beard, circling her index finger around his head. “You want some help with all that? I’ve been known to do a damn fine job shaving wolf fur when necessary.”

  He nodded, and she stepped farther into the small room. After rummaging around in a compartment under another white basin below where he’d seen his reflection, she held up a few tools and motioned for him to follow her out to the larger room. She patted a chair she’d pulled away from a table.

  “Have a seat and let’s see what we can do here,” she said.

  “Where’s Reardon?” Not that he wanted to see him. He most certainly didn’t care where his brother had gone. He just felt the need to keep track of Reardon’s whereabouts in case his brother intended to betray him again.

  “He’s in the house with my son, Dylan. We were all at a Fourth of July event and my mom brought him back.”

  “You trust my brother around your boy and your mother? That seems unwise.” Jaemus sat in the chair Brandy had offered and folded his arms across his chest.

  “I trust Reardon with my life.” Brandy came to stand in front of him, and the truth of her words shined in her eyes. “He’s saved me on too many levels to count. I know what he did to you and some of the other men in your army. Believe me, Jaemus, he’s sorry. He carries that regret around like a sack full of boulders on his back. He’ll never forgive himself, but maybe you
can forgive him. I mean, being a wolf rocks.”

  He looked up at her face, her blue eyes glowing as her canine teeth elongated.

  “You truly enjoy what he’s made you? How?”

  Brandy’s eyes went back to their normal blue and her teeth shortened again. “Because being a wolf allows me to be closer to him and my wolves here at the sanctuary. I can care for everyone better. I can love Reardon better.”

  Jaemus had trouble believing what she’d said, but the way she gave his bare shoulder a little squeeze told him she knew his inner struggle.

  “Hopefully, someday you’ll know what I mean.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let’s take care of these cuts first. They’ll heal on their own shortly, but cleaning them out makes them heal faster. Then we’ll make you pretty.”

  As she tended to him, she told him how Reardon had shown up at her sanctuary as an injured wolf. How she and her son came to love him in wolf form. How Reardon, in human form, had saved her and her son from being smashed by an out-of-control car in town. How Flidae possessed a friend of hers, kidnapped Dylan, then took Reardon from them. How she traveled to Ireland of the past and won Reardon back along with Flidae’s blessing to be turned into a wolf.

  How she planned to spend the rest of her life loving Reardon.

  “We’re getting married in October. I hope you and Reardon can reconcile so he’ll have family at the wedding too. He’s missed you, Jaemus.” She pulled off a towel she’d draped on his shoulders while cutting his hair and shook it so blond strands fell to the floor. “I’m going to sweep this up. Why don’t you take these,” she handed him a stack of clothes, “and go back in the bathroom. Change up. Check yourself out. I think I did a pretty good job on you.”

  She grinned and Jaemus decided even if he hated Reardon, he liked this woman who had chosen—recklessly—to love his brother.

  He took the clothes and went into the bathroom. After pulling on a pair of stiff, dark blue pants and a soft, short-sleeved, green tunic, he sat on an odd seat made out of the same white material as the water basins and stuffed his feet into black boots that were a little big. All of the items probably belonged to Reardon, and Jaemus didn’t enjoy being encased in the trimmings of a traitor, but he had no other choice right now.

  His reflection caught his attention again and his mouth dropped open. Brandy had cut his hair to a length that rested at chin level. She’d combed it into a sense of order and trimmed his beard so it neatly framed his mouth and jaw. He looked several shades more civilized thanks to her work. The scar on his cheek didn’t look as bad as it had before either, though it did cut into his beard, causing a line of no hair. Still, he was much improved and didn’t feel so wild anymore.

  After inspecting the cleaned cuts and deeming them well attended to, he emerged from the bathroom to find Brandy still in the larger room. She had a broom in her hand, but rested it against a wall when she saw him.

  “Does everything meet your approval?” she asked.

  “Aye, thank you, Brandy.” He bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

  “No problem.” The way she regarded him told Jaemus she had more to say.

  “Out with it.”

  “Oh, well… I was thinking that aside from being big and giving off that badass vibe, you don’t look like Reardon’s brother.”

  Good. “We don’t share a father. Just a mother.”

  “Right. He got the werewolf father.”

  “And yet, I’ve suffered the same fate, haven’t I?”

  “You can choose to see it as suffering or as an opportunity.” Brandy motioned for him to follow her.

  Opportunity? Hardly. Love had blinded this woman. Jaemus hoped she didn’t get hurt by Reardon’s selfish ways. Once a ruthless warrior willing to sacrifice his men—his own brother—always a ruthless warrior.

  She led him to a house made from fat logs. Lights glowed inside, giving off a warm, welcoming aura Jaemus didn’t want to be drawn to, but he was. For weeks, his shelter had been a loose collection of branches and ferns. This log home was a substantial improvement.

  Before she opened the front door, she turned to Jaemus. “I know your last memory of Reardon is how he turned you and the other men, but he’s truly sorry, Jaemus. Truly. For whatever reason, Flidae has dumped you here. Take it as a gift and make amends.” She swallowed loudly, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I had a twin sister. She passed away and I’d give anything for another shot at talking to her, hearing her laugh, hugging her. Don’t throw this away.” She swiped at her eyes and sniffed before leading him inside.

  Jaemus hesitated on the front step for a few moments. Brandy didn’t know what she was asking him to do. To forgive his brother for turning him into a werewolf. How could he forgive that?

  How?

  ****

  “How do you know Jared got arrested?” Nika opened her office door and reluctantly let Robert enter.

  “I saw it happen with my own two eyes. I was across the street at the bank and watched two cops escort your Wolfman star into the police station.”

  “That doesn’t mean he was arrested.” Please, God, don’t make that mean he was arrested. Jared was literally the best Wolfman the trading post had ever had. Without him, they would be bringing in no money at all. This can’t be happening.

  “After I wrapped up my business at the bank, I went to the police station and confirmed that Jared Greene was arrested for making meth in his basement.” Robert had that damn smug look on his face and it took all of Nika’s control not to slug him. Hard.

  “Meth?”

  “The drug.”

  “I know what meth is, you fool. I just don’t believe Jared was making it.” The Jared she knew was a pleasant guy, full of life, funny, always on time for work. Strangely unaffected by the stress of day-to-day living. Oddly at ease in all situations.

  Shit. The guy was making meth.

  “Think about it, Nika. The man is willing to put on a Wolfman costume and run about like a raving lunatic. Normal people don’t want to do that. People on meth do.” Robert sat on the little couch she had in the office.

  For the record, Nika hated having Robert on that couch. Or anywhere near her for that matter. She actually preferred the company of a meth manufacturer over that of the greasy Robert Senclair.

  And the fact that he’d been the one to discover Jared’s arrest just about made her frigging day.

  With a sigh, she sat at her desk, fully intending to ignore Robert’s presence and hoping he’d leave. But when did things ever go her way?

  “Without your Wolfman show, this trading post is toast, Nika.” He got up and sat at the chair on the other side of her desk, making it impossible for her not to notice the way his thinning brown hair looked too controlled. The way his brown eyes resembled the beady, sneaky eyes of a large rodent. The way his suit bulged in all the wrong places around his chubby middle.

  “I’ll hire a new Wolfman.” She squared her shoulders. Surely other men were willing to play a half-man, half-wolf role in a silly tourist show. For minimum wage.

  Yeah, right, that voice inside her head said. The one she couldn’t turn off no matter how hard she tried. Face it, you’re fucked. And totally not the way she wanted to be.

  “Why don’t you give in?” Robert leaned forward. His teeth were yellow. She’d never noticed that before. Why was she noticing today? Because she was thinking about admitting defeat? Because she was out of options?

  Because her life sucked ass?

  “I’ll give you a job at Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop. Manager. Good pay. Steady pay. Although…” He reached across the desk to take her hand, but she quickly moved it to her lap and he pulled his hand back to his side of the desk. “If you would agree to be with me, Nika, you wouldn’t have to work at all. I have a lot of money. You wouldn’t have to want for anything. I’d give you everything.”

  Yeah, everything I never wanted.

  “I’ll figure this out without your help, Robert.” Of course
he wasn’t actually trying to help her. Instead he was adding to her existing, mountain-sized pile of problems. She stood and went to the office door, hoping he’d follow her. “Actually, if you want to help, there is one thing you can do.”

  He stood and joined her by the door. Once again, he stood too close. “Name it.”

  “Leave.” She opened the door and gestured for him to walk out.

  Robert made a frustrated noise and sifted out a slow breath. One that smelled like hours-old coffee.

  “You can’t hang on for much longer. I’ll be waiting.” He brushed past her, taking the opportunity to let his arm skim across her breasts.

  Now I have to burn this tank top.

  Zavier looked up from his perch at the register, his green eyes hawking Robert as he left the trading post. The teen’s gaze immediately flicked to the office where Nika rolled her eyes from her doorway.

  “You okay, Boss?” he called.

  “Never better.”

  “Liar.”

  “A big, fat one.” Nika made her way to the register. Not a single customer wandered the shop. What am I going to do? “Did you hear anything about Jared?”

  “Hear? Jared? Uhh…” Suddenly Zavier opened his Canterbury Tales book and pretended to look real scholarly.

  “Zavier.” Nika pulled his book down to the counter and put her hand over the pages. “Zavier, look at me.”

  He tugged on his book, but she had a good grip on it. “Do I have to?” He stared at the book, not meeting her gaze.

  “Yes.” She reached across the counter and lifted Zavier’s head with a finger under his chin. “What do you know about Jared?”

  “Just that half the senior class gets their meth from him.”

  “It’s true?” Letting go of Zavier’s book, Nika swiveled and sunk to the floor, her back sliding against the counter. She dropped her head to her knees, barely avoiding a full-blown panic attack. Her Wolfman was a drug manufacturer and dealer. Her trading post was going under. She would end up managing a Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop.

  Or worse. She’d end up being Mrs. Robert Senclair.

  “Aww, hell no.” She needed time to think. “Let’s close now, Zavier.”