“It exists,” Ally assured her. “I think it would be a good place for you.”
“I could go with you to see it,” Gwen offered. “If you don’t like it or you feel it won’t work for you, we’ll come right back here.”
Zander didn’t argue. It would be good for Gwen to get away from Oregon, even if only for a day. He was no longer concerned about trying to hide his involvement with her from his pack, beyond caring whether they would approve of it. Human or not, Kenny Cogman’s daughter or not, she was his. Since Ally and Derren already knew, it was likely that they’d told Nick anyway, so it made no difference if Gwen stayed behind.
“We can take you there as soon as tomorrow,” Bracken told the cougar. “In my opinion, the sooner you leave, the better.”
Andie took a long breath. “I’ll go and check it out tomorrow, but I want Gwen to come.”
“That’s fine,” said Bracken. “We’ll leave in the morning. I really think you should stay here tonight, just to be on the safe side.”
After a long moment, Andie nodded. “I’ll go pack my stuff in the morning, just in case I decide to stay at the shelter.”
Relieved, Gwen smiled. “The only guests we have at the moment are Ally and Derren. There are plenty of free rooms—take your pick.”
“Marlon can help her find a room.” Zander stood, cradling Gwen against him. “You need rest.”
“I’m just a little drowsy—Ally said it’s normal.”
Ignoring that, Zander carried her out of the room and up the stairs. He heard Donnie enter the house, but he kept walking. The others would reassure Donnie that Gwen was fine and explain what happened. She needed peace and quiet and rest. And he needed to be alone with her.
Zander never resorted to panic. He was always the practical voice of reason in a dangerous situation. But as they’d stood on that boardwalk and he’d seen those birds descend on her and he’d smelled her blood, he’d sure as fuck panicked. That panic hadn’t yet left him; it still slithered through him, tormenting him. She was really the only thing keeping him from losing his shit, and he doubted she even knew it.
Inside her room, Gwen squirmed. “Put me down. I can walk on my own steam.”
“Don’t, Gwen,” he clipped. “Just let me have my way right now.”
Gwen sighed inwardly, not really sure what to do with him. She’d never seen him this way before—edgy, vibrating with suppressed anger. So Gwen didn’t say a word as he took her into the en suite bathroom, where he gently set her down and stripped off their clothes. She didn’t say a word as he opened the frosted glass door of the shower stall and ushered her inside. Still silent, she shampooed her hair as he soaped her down, careful to wash away every bit of dried blood from her skin, utterly focused on his task.
When they stepped out of the shower and he wrapped a lush towel around her, she said, “Your wolf doesn’t like me, huh?”
He blinked in surprise. “He didn’t like seeing you bleeding and in pain. The smell of your blood made him crazy.”
She snorted. “He snarled at me, Zander. He doesn’t trust me. I could see it in his eyes.”
Patting her dry, Zander explained, “My wolf is a tough fucker. Nothing fazes him. Something about you makes him wary, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what. He doesn’t dislike you; he’s just on his guard.”
She didn’t like to think that his wolf felt that way about her. “Suspecting I’ll do what?”
“I don’t know. He’s gotten better as the days have gone on. He doesn’t mind you being around; he’s not uncomfortable with you. In fact, he enjoys your company and wants you around. He’s also protective of you. But he’s still on his guard.” Now that she was dry, he used another towel to dry himself off. “You shouldn’t take his negative behavior personally. My wolf generally doesn’t like female attention.”
She paused in pulling a brush through her hair. “Why?”
“It’s just the way he is.”
“Maybe he gets aggravated by it because the only attention he wants is that of his true mate,” she suggested.
Zander frowned thoughtfully. He hadn’t considered that before. “Maybe.” Right then, it didn’t matter. He cupped her jaw, letting his gaze roam over her face. “Such big eyes.”
She swallowed at the possessiveness in his voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be pissed at me for not pouring out my life story?”
“You’re not going to cause an argument, baby, if that’s your game.”
“I don’t have a game. I have a problem with people thinking I have to justify myself to them. There’s a good reason why I don’t tell people shit about my past—there’s nothing good to share from before I went into foster care.”
“Gwen—”
“When people learn that my mom’s a stripper, my stepdad’s a drunk, and my dad’s a drug dealer, they look at me differently. I’m the same Gwen you impaled on your cock last night. But because you discovered my biological father is a drug-dealing equivalent of a Nazi, you were looking at me like you’d never seen me before.” And that hurt, even as she wished it didn’t. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”
He crowded her, shaking his head. “Oh, no, you don’t.”
Her brows snapped together. “What?”
“You’re pouncing on this as an excuse to push me away.” He could literally see her bolstering her defenses. “Let’s get a few things perfectly straight. You’re right; you don’t have to justify yourself to me. I was mostly mad because I didn’t like learning something so significant about you from my Betas. I would rather have heard it from you. It hurt, so, yeah, I overreacted a little.
“I understand your privacy is important to you. Neither me nor my pack meant to hit any hot buttons. But I’d do the same search on any stranger that hung around you . . . because you matter, and I’d put your safety before another person’s right to privacy. I won’t apologize for that, so I can’t expect my pack to apologize for putting my safety first either. Also, I don’t believe you’re anything like Cogman. I’d have already sensed it if you were.”
“Maybe I’m a good actress.”
“And maybe you’re someone who’s trying to atone for the sins of her father—that’s not something you need to do.”
Gwen perched her hands on her hips. “I’m not trying to atone for Kenny’s fucked-up mistakes. No amount of good deeds from me would manage that.” The guy was plain cruel. “This isn’t about me or anything I went through. It’s about Andie. I’m helping her because I want to, because she deserves justice, and because Brandt needs to pay. That’s it. My childhood . . . it’s not relevant here. None of it matters anyway. It’s in the past.”
Oh, it matters, thought Zander. If it hadn’t, she’d have looked her cool and casual self. Right then, she looked like someone who’d been jammed in an elevator too long. He’d have expected defensiveness or anger, but not the panic he could scent. And then he understood.
Zander framed her face with his hands. “It’s not just that you’re highly private, is it, baby? It’s not even that your natural instinct is to keep things to yourself. You avoid talking of your childhood because you never feel far enough away from it.” Her eyes flickered, and he knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “I didn’t see that before. Should have. I blame your legs. They’re too damn distracting. Your eyes too. And your mouth.”