Dark Instincts

It wasn’t a question, but Roni still nodded. Unable to shake off her suspiciousness—Marcus hadn’t made a single protest to Nick’s smugly delivered announcement, which wasn’t like him—she watched with a frown as he skirted around her and smiled at a scowling Nick.

When the front door closed behind him, Nick folded his arms. “Derren told me you marked Fuller.”

“Derren’s got a big mouth.”

“Are you sure he’s what you want, Roni? ’Cause I gotta tell ya, a wolf like that isn’t going to let you walk all over him. He isn’t going to let you shake him off if you get bored or restless. He won’t put up with you bolting whenever you feel like it. And he’s going to be incredibly possessive.”

She cocked her head. “So when I told you to stop interfering in my life, what part of that statement did you find confusing? Should I use smaller words? Simpler vocabulary? Or maybe you need me to emphasize it with a blow to the jaw? That would be fun.”

He sighed. “I’m just making the point that he won’t be someone you can manage. You need to be prepared for that, because I’ve come to realize that that guy will push and push until he gets what he wants.”

She was quite aware of that, which was why she found it so odd that he’d left without even a scowl at Nick. Of course, her confusion completely disappeared when a knock to the door of Nick’s game room later that day preceded the entrance of Marcus, Trey, Dante, Tao, and the other enforcers. They all piled into the room wearing wide smiles and carrying beers and snacks.

Nick gawked. “What are you all doing here?”

“You invited us,” replied Marcus.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Just before I left, you said, ‘Marcus, why don’t you and the guys come by later to watch the game with us.’”

“I said no such thing.”

“No? Really? That’s what I heard. But then, I have been told I have selective hearing. Mmm, pizza.” Ignoring Nick’s grumbles, Marcus grabbed a slice from the box on the table and made a beeline for Roni, who was lounging in one of the La-Z-Boys, eating a chicken wing.

Shaking her head, she said, “I should have known you’d do this.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her soundly. “I did say we’d talk later.” Scooping her out of the chair, Marcus sank into it and perched her comfortably on his lap.

“Ah, see, I didn’t know that translated to ‘I’ll crash your pack’s get-together.’ Silly me.” She was amused rather than annoyed.

Oblivious to—or uncaring of—Nick’s displeasure, the other Phoenix wolves made themselves comfortable, opening beers and joking with the Mercury wolves . . . as if they hadn’t just gate-crashed their gathering. Wearing a petulant scowl, Nick returned to his La-Z-Boy. Since Dominic was on it, he shoved him off—but the enforcer just laughed, which only seemed to aggravate Nick more.

“What happened with Eliza?” Marcus asked Roni.

“She actually apologized. Of course, it was totally forced, but I pretended to buy it.”

“Was she badly wounded?” The self-satisfaction glinting in Roni’s eyes told him the answer. “Will she have any scars?”

“One or two.”

“How did Shaya take it?” He knew the Alpha female adored Roni. As such, although this was the ways of shifters, Shaya wouldn’t appreciate Roni being targeted whether it was expected or not.

“She performed her knife trick to make a point that no one tested her wolves.” Just as shifters taught their children how to hunt and defend themselves with teeth and claws, Shaya’s human father had taught her to defend herself. As a recently retired Navy SEAL, Stone had taught her some interesting things. Roni had walked into the kitchen many times to find Nick plastered against the wall with knives framing his body while an irate Shaya yelled at him.

“I’m staying with you tonight.”

She might have bristled at what should have been a request, but the desperation in his voice made her smile inwardly. “Oh, you are?”

“Oh, I am.” He licked over his mark. “I’m going to do to you what I would have done earlier if you hadn’t been hurt.”

“I’ll leave you to wonder what I’ll do to you.”

He smiled, liking it when she played with him.

“Now hush, the game’s starting.”

The gathering was a rowdy affair, and Marcus quickly learned that Roni was one of those people who liked to shout things at the TV as if the players could actually hear her advice. There was a lot of, “Get under center!” and “Focus! Wrap it up!” and “Take it home, take it home!” and “Hit somebody! Just hit somebody!” Then there were the times she cursed the referee and, honestly, if the guy had been within reach, Marcus would have feared for the ref’s life.

When the game ended, he kissed her hair. “I’m sure the Grizzlies are genuinely appreciative of your never-ending guidance.” She jammed her elbow into his ribs. “Ow! That was so uncalled for.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Walking into Shaya and Nick’s lodge a few days later, Marcus almost laughed as he heard Kathy shout, “Roni! If you don’t stop hitting your brother, I’ll—” There was a loud smacking sound followed by a deep male grunt. “Don’t make me come over there!”

Reaching the kitchen area, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Roni looking quite comfortable holding Eli in a headlock. Everyone at the table, other than Janice, was watching with amusement. Kathy stood at the stove doing that hands-on-hips thing.

“Oh, yeah, take his side,” griped Roni. “Why break a habit of a lifetime?”

“Roni, he’s turning blue,” Shaya pointed out, trembling with laughter. With an extremely put-upon sigh, Roni released Eli with a shove. Choking and laughing at the same time, the guy flipped her the finger.

“I saw that, Eli!” Kathy shook her head.

Janice fussed over a coughing Eli, guiding him to a seat. “Really, Roni, do you have to embarrass your mother all the time?”

Roni pouted. “But it makes me feel so warm inside.”

“Good morning, everyone,” drawled Marcus as he stepped forward. He smiled widely at Roni. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Roni met his gaze and instantly the air heated, thickened. As always, his entire focus ate her up, made her feel hunted. Yet, it also steadied her and gave her a strong sense of balance. Her wolf stretched out inside her, happy that he was close; she also wanted to climb all over him and lick him like an ice cream cone. Pathetic.