He buried his face in her hair. “When I saw the son of a bitch smashing your head . . . I’ll never get that picture out of my mind. Never. I felt your pain. Felt everything go . . . dark for you. I’ve never been so fucking scared. No, not scared. Terrified. My wolf wouldn’t withdraw at first, the stubborn bastard. I can usually fight him for dominance, but he was all about you.”
She kissed his chest. “I was a little scared when I woke to see you covered in blood. Panicked. Even went banging on Derren’s door to ask Ally to heal you. She assured me that she had healed you and that you’d wake soon. I could feel through the bond that you were okay, but the panic didn’t ease off.” Trying to keep her voice sensitive, she said, “I take it you killed Rory. I heard the two of you fighting.”
“It had to be done.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry he put you in a position where it had to be done.”
Zander figured he should be feeling guilt or shame or something about having killed Rory. All he felt was relief, because it meant his mate was safe from the threat that Rory had presented. “Tell me what happened after I left here last night.”
Gwen took a deep breath and told him everything, pausing only at moments when Zander took a second to spit out a harsh curse. “Ally healed Yvonne—that she-wolf is the shit, by the way. She also saved Bracken’s life, you know.”
Zander stiffened. “What happened to Bracken?”
“A coyote and a cheetah teamed up to try and tear him to pieces. He’s okay now, though. Ally healed him before healing me. He’s probably still sleeping it off.”
Zander kissed her hair. “I should have known Moore brought the mercenaries to draw us away from the house. I should have stayed with you.”
“No. Your pack mates needed you.”
“You needed me.”
“Yeah, I did. And you came. I knew you would.” She nipped his lip. “So, no guilt.”
He helped her rinse off the conditioner as he asked, “How about you? Are you stupidly giving yourself a hard time about hurting and killing those bastards?”
“Part of me is shook up by what I did. Feels bad, even. But then I remember that Ezra, Moira, and Brandt beat on Yvonne. I remember that Thad, Gerard, and Nelson shot at us, and that Ezra almost killed me. Then I don’t feel too bad about it.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “They don’t deserve your guilt. They chose to come here, they put you in a position where you had to defend yourself and Yvonne, and that was exactly what you did. They put you in a position where you had to choose between their lives or yours and Yvonne’s. You made the right choice, and it’s not one you should feel any remorse over. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He doubted it would be that simple for her, suspected there would be times when it tormented her a little. Zander took her mouth. He’d only meant to give her a swift kiss, but it quickly turned hot and hungry. Before long, he was fucking her against the tiled wall. Not hard and fast, but soft and slow. And when she came, he bit her neck to leave yet another mark. He rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Gwen.” He hadn’t actually meant to say the words—they’d just popped out. But it was only the truth. Her winning smile made his chest tighten.
“And I love you.”
“Good. Now let’s finish here, get dressed, and go for breakfast.”
Sounded good to Gwen. A short while later, she was walking downstairs, hand in hand with Zander. Her knees felt a little rubbery, but she seemed to be doing a good job of hiding it from him because he didn’t comment. As they strolled into the kitchen, it was to find Marlon, Yvonne, and Donnie sitting at the table.
“Damn, I’m starving,” Gwen declared.
“Thought you would be.” Marlon jumped to his feet and hugged her tight. Then he started crying.
Alarmed, she exchanged a panicked look with Zander and patted her foster brother’s back. “I’m fine.”
Marlon actually slapped her arm as he pulled back. “Fine? You almost died. We could have been picking out your coffin and headstone right now.”
“There’s no need to say it like it was my fault.”
He put a hand over his chest. “Sometimes I think God sent you here to test the strength of my heart.”
“Then you’re weird.”
He snorted. “Says the person who always flushes the toilet twice—before and after she uses it.”
“Says the person who stupidly lies that he’s color-blind.”
“I am color-blind.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’m too sober to deal with you. And stop with the dramatics.”
“I’m not being dramatic. Yvonne thought the damn ghosts had come for you.”
Gwen frowned. “Ghosts?” As Yvonne then told her what happened, Gwen gaped. “I don’t get how the girl could have helped.”
“Ally said the girl gave her a sort of . . . dose of preternatural energy,” Yvonne explained. “It boosted her healing skills, because her healing energy is preternatural too. Or something like that. She said it better.”
“Damn, I wish I’d been awake for that.”
Marlon looked at Zander. “I heard you saved my sister and then practically ate Ezra Moore alive. For that, I will forever adore you.”
Not really sure what to say to that, Zander just nodded. That seemed to please Marlon, because he beamed at him and then declared he’d make pancakes.
Donnie frowned. “I want Pop-Tarts.”
Marlon sighed. “I’ll get you Pop-Tarts.”
Yvonne stood and drew Gwen into her arms, squeezing her tight. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You scared me last night. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” Her voice broke at the end.
Gwen hugged her tight. “I’m sorry that Ezra, Moira, and Brandt hurt you and—”
Yvonne pulled back and gripped her face, pinning her gaze. “Don’t you apologize. Nelson was restraining you and had a gun to your head.” Ignoring Zander’s growl, she continued, “There was no way you could have done anything, Gwen. Besides, you got free in the end. You saved us both . . . and then Zander and Ally saved you.” Yvonne smiled at Zander. “Thank you. And thank you for not dragging her away from me—I can see you want to keep her close right now.”
Zander ignored the teasing note to her voice. Besides, she was right. He needed to keep Gwen close, needed to breathe her in. He sat, and at his urging, Gwen settled on his lap.
“You okay, Donnie?” Gwen asked him as he bit into a Pop-Tart.
Donnie gave her a thumbs-up. “Nearly died.” And for some reason, he sounded . . . cheery about it. Like it was the first bit of excitement he’d had in a long time. “If Ally hadn’t done that healing thing, I’d have met the reaper and you’d be planting lilies over my head.” He looked at Yvonne. “Make sure that happens when my ticker finally stops ticking, okay? Lilies. I want lilies.”
“Lilies,” Yvonne promised.
Donnie lifted a brow at Gwen. “What do you want planted over your grave?”
Zander growled. “Let’s not talk anymore about Gwen dying, yeah?”
As Marlon made pancakes and Yvonne made coffee, more and more people came downstairs for breakfast. Considering the night before had been one hell of a fuckup, it was surprising that the atmosphere was . . . peaceful.