She nodded and pushed curls over her shoulder. God, he loved her wild hair. The scent of vanilla wrapped around his heart and squeezed. “We’ll be all right, Maggie.”
“I know.”
Her worn jeans hugged a sweet ass, while her bright green T-shirt brought out the wolflike flecks in her eyes. He grinned. “You’re gorgeous.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a dork.” But a pretty blush wandered over her high cheekbones. The sadness continued to linger in her smile, however.
He nodded, and led her around the lodge to the front.
Gerald sat in a rocker, his gaze on the empty field, while the doctor sat in a matching chair. Nash stood behind them, leaning against a post.
Gerald stood. “Terrent, Maggie—it’s good to see you.
Thanks for your help the other day.”
Maggie nodded. “Have you recovered from the stab wound?”
“I will.” Gerald gestured toward the doctor. “The doc added some extra stitches today. I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” Terrent held out a hand to shake. “It was good seeing you.”
“Ditto.” Clouds darkened Gerald’s eyes. “I wish you were staying. At least until we find out who was messing with the inoculations.”
“Me, too,” a spirited voice echoed as Shannon wandered from around the far side of the lodge. Andrea followed . . .
as did about ninety members of the pack.
Now that was sweet.
Maggie eyed Andrea. “Is your arm all right?”
“Sure. Just a couple of stitches. I can still compete in nationals,” the girl said.
Terrent grinned. “Don’t worry. The Bane’s Council will honor the promise to escort you to Georgia.” Then he frowned at the intense gaze Maggie gave the girls. “What’s going on?”
The girls blushed and meandered to stand in front of him.
Shannon took a deep breath. “We, ah, have a confession.”
Terrent bit back another smile. The girl was serious.
“Okay.”
Shannon shuffled her feet. “You tell him.”
“No.” Andrea’s face went from pink to bright red. “You lost the coin toss.”
“Girls, we need to get going,” Terrent said, throwing some sternness into his tone.
Shannon nodded. “We altered the inoculations,” she whispered, her gaze on her fluorescent tennis shoes.
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. “What?” Why in the world would the girl confess to such a crime? Was she being threatened? A low growl vibrated in his chest. “I won’t let anybody hurt you girls. Now tell me the truth. Do you know who sabotaged our cure?”
“Yes.” Andrea kicked a pebble. “It was us. Me and Shannon.”
So much guilt covered her face, she had to be telling the truth.
Terrent shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why?”
Gerald grabbed a post. “Yes, why in the world would you girls do such a thing?”
Shannon lifted a shoulder. “We knew the Bane’s Council would investigate, and we knew Terrent would come. But we were careful. Nobody got hurt.”
This made no sense. “So I came. Why? Are you in danger? Did you need me here?” Terrent tried to concentrate—it made no sense.
Andrea gave an exasperated huff. “Yes, Terrent. We are in danger, and we wanted you here. Jeez. Don’t you get it?”
“No.” He glanced at Maggie, who was grinning. What was wrong with these females?
Gerald chuckled. “I get it.” Several of the pack members nodded around them.
Okay, everyone had gone crazy. “Somebody explain,”
Terrent ordered, allowing the full force of the Alpha within him to awaken.
Both girls stepped back. Shit. He hadn’t meant to scare them. “Please,” he added.
Shannon lifted her chin. “Gerald is awesome, and he de-serves to travel. We need an Alpha, and we’ve chosen you.
Period.”
“You can’t just choose an Alpha,” Terrent said, his lungs heating. He’d faced down killer werewolves without breaking a sweat. Yet these two innocent cheerleaders were scar-ing the shit out of him. “You girls know that.”
Twin eye-rolls met his declaration.
The doctor stood up. “I don’t mean to be a wet blanket here, but Terrent’s mate is a menace. She might have frightening abilities and needs to be contained at Realm headquarters.”
Terrent cut a hard look at the doctor. “Bullshi—baloney.
She doesn’t have demon-fighting abilities. Unfortunately.”
“Yeah.” Shannon stepped toward Terrent’s other side.
“We’re sticking with Terrent’s pack. No matter where we have to go.”
Andrea nodded, standing by her friend. “We need a cool name, though.”
“How about the bad-asses?” Shannon asked.
“Terrent’s bad-asses?” Andrea clapped her hands together. “That’s awesome.”
“I agree, that is awesome.” Jase Kayrs stalked from the parking lot. “I’m in.”
Terrent coughed. “You’re a vampire. You can’t join my pack.” If he had a pack, which he didn’t.
“Sure, I can,” Jase drawled.
“You’re not a wolf.” Terrent’s mind spun.
“So?” Jase stood next to Maggie. “I spoke to Dage, who laughed really hard, by the way, and then agreed I should join your wandering pack. Where you go . . . I go.”
Terrent rounded on Bobbi, Shannon’s mother. “Do something.”
She nodded, striding forward to stand by her daughter. “I agree. I hereby join Terrent’s bad-asses.”
One by one, every member of the pack stepped into the center of the clearing. Joining his pack.
Finally, Gerald grinned and stepped forward. “Well, Alpha? Where are we going first? Werewolf hunting?”
Warmth slammed through Terrent with such force he would’ve stepped back, except there was nowhere to step.
People surrounded him. People who wanted to be his. A home. A family. Finally.
His mate was correct that he felt an odd guilt about being the only surviving Skene pack member. And he truly was guilty as hell for taking vengeance on the three who’d killed his people. Yet, he’d fought for and protected the world for centuries. He could continue to do so with a new pack, with a new home. They needed his help.
He glanced at his mate. “Well?”
Maggie fought to keep tears from her eyes. The people had banded around them, offering everything. The hope in Terrent’s eyes, the warmth there, made her heart actually swell. “I, ah—”
Andrea nodded. “Please stay.”
Maggie swallowed. The sense of belonging surrounded her in a welcoming warmth. “I might want to travel and meet my people. Someday.”
“We’ll all go visiting,” Shannon said.
So this was what family felt like. Her damn memories might never return, but she had waited long enough to start living again. She had all she could ever want being offered to her. Maggie smiled at the man she loved. “I feel like a bad-ass.”
Terrent exhaled slowly. The crowd around them seemed to hold still. Finally, Terrent nodded. “Looks like you have a new Alpha.”
The people erupted with cheers, several hugging, several smacking Terrent on the back.
He cleared his throat. “I will need to leave once in a while when the Bane’s Council requires my help.” He nodded at Nash. “Though, I’m sure we could find someone else willing to fight with them.”
Nash’s slow grin provided an easy answer.
Terrent nodded. “However, we live here, and we’re keeping the same name. No bad-asses.”
Maggie shook her head at the slow wink Andrea gave Shannon. They’d probably have new Tshirts made by the end of the day. God, she was going to love it here.
Terrent eyed the girls. “I guess my first official act as Alpha will be to punish the saboteurs.”
The girls stopped smiling. Slowly, they both nodded.
Maggie stiffened
. Oh, no. He wouldn’t keep them from the national competition, would he? She held her breath, too.
Glancing around at the scrub brush surrounding the clearing, Terrent stopped to face the girls. “You two are in charge of restoring this clearing to its formal pretty, flower-ing, welcoming glory. In time for my wedding next spring.”
Maggie gasped. “You mean it? A wedding with a dress, music, flowers? A real wedding?”
“That’s what you’ve always wanted,” Terrent said with a grin.
The girls erupted with happy squeals.
Their glee had him holding up a hand. “And never, never, ever, do such a thing again.”
“We won’t.” The girls rushed forward to hug him.
The panic on his face warmed Maggie right through. Deciding to rescue him, this time, she tugged on his arm. “Let’s go unpack. I want to settle in before we start all the new training and stuff.”
She turned and tripped.
He caught her, sweeping her up. “We’ll be back, pack.”
Snuggling his face into her neck, he strode around the corner and set her down away from prying eyes. His own serious eyes met hers. “Are you sure you want to live here?”
“This is home.” She pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth. “I love you.”
He grinned, sliding his arms around her waist. “I love you, too, my little wolf. Forever.”
REBECCA ZANETTI has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner—only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She is a member of RWA, has won awards for her works throughout the industry, and has a journalism degree with a poly sci emphasis from Pepperdine University, as well as a juris doctorate from the University of Idaho.
Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonder-lands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family, who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.
Please visit Rebecca at www.rebeccazanetti.com.
Rebecca Zanetti, Twisted
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