A short time later, the pack had killed two wolves in the struggle to defend their territory. A couple of Lorenzo’s men had sustained minor injuries, but quickly healed after shifting. The panthers never moved in, only circled the house to spook the pack.
“Where the hell did you learn to throw a spear like that?” Caleb asked. He had an angelic face in a manly sort of way, probably because of the five-o’clock shadow, and curly blond hair. He looked like a handsome version of what I imagined the Greek god, Eros, could have looked like.
“Charm school,” I said, giving him an impish grin.
Caleb sucked down a bottle of water and wiped the sweat from his forehead. I quickly realized he was higher-ranked than Watcher, which explained why Watcher followed my orders. A second-in-command doesn’t follow orders—he gives them. You couldn’t judge a Shifter by their brawn; sometimes the larger wolves ended up as the lowly omega. It was all based on personality, and I could see that Caleb was in his element. I’d be willing to bet he was third in rank, and with the second-in-command out of the house, he took his leadership role seriously. Caleb gave orders and collected information from Watcher, who periodically went outside to check on the wolves.
Caleb handed me a bottle. “You’ve been standing in the same spot for ages. Why don’t you sit down?”
Because I’d fall. I’d been nervously watching everyone for so long that my leg had stiffened. I was afraid of taking a step and collapsing. Call it dignity, but I didn’t want to reveal my injury in a pack of unfamiliar wolves. It was instinctual to conceal what others could use against you.
I accepted the water and it quenched my thirst. “How’s it looking out there?”
He took the bottle from my hand and stared at the door. “Quiet. They’re lying low outside the territorial lines. I can’t tell how many there are. I wonder what the hell they want. Seems like a bunch of rogues would pick off some of the smaller packs instead of going for the castle, you know?”
“Perhaps their leader is an imbecile.”
“That I don’t doubt,” Caleb muttered.
I blinked wearily. “How’s Rebecca?”
“Pissed. You saved her ass in front of the pack, and you know how that goes. We respect what you did, but she’s feeling a little inferior. Maybe a dash of humility will do her some good.”
“You don’t get along? Packs usually respect the alpha females.”
He shook his head and made a sound between a laugh and a groan. “She barks orders at everyone. Some of the lower-ranking wolves listen, but most of us don’t respect the way she talks down to the women, let alone the men.”
I tapped my chin. “And what about Lorenzo? Packmasters can be a bit demanding,” I said with caution.
Caleb shrugged. “I’ve seen worse, I guess. Enzo has his moments, but he’s a little standoffish. I guess a Packmaster can’t be too close to the pack or they won’t take him seriously. I don’t know.”
“Well—”
In the midst of our conversation, the front door swung open and slammed against the wall. Lorenzo filled the doorway, the blustering wind lifting the ends of his hair. I smoldered when he took a few steps forward and his leather jacket fell to the floor. He was fearsome, and every man in the room tensed. His black boots were the kind Reno wore on his motorcycle. Lorenzo Church looked magnificent and terrifying all at once.
When he locked eyes with mine, my chest tightened. His nostrils flared and he sharpened his gaze on Caleb. “Is the situation under control?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Caleb’s voice altered and grew a pair of balls. “All corners of the territory are under guard, and we have a second line of defense just outside the house. We’ve armed them with weapons. Every entrance of the house from top to bottom has a man on watch in case someone slips through.”
“Clever. Whose idea was that?”
Caleb hesitated and I interrupted his response. “Mr. Church, did you speak with my father?”
Lorenzo marched forward and slammed the door behind him with a hard thrust. “And then there’s that.” His eyes blazed and he closed in on me. “Caleb, leave us.”
Caleb and two other men backed away and hurried out of the room. Lorenzo was much taller than I was, and when he stopped in front of me, he looked at my bare feet briefly before his eyes settled on my shirt.
His shirt.
“I told you not to leave the room.”
“You told me not to open the door for anyone.”
“That included you,” he retorted.
I lifted my chin. “You didn’t clearly define the rules, Thunder.”
He gripped my arm and began to turn me around. “Have you been pretending to be more injured than you are just to stay in my bed? You seem just fine and—”
I nearly fell and then Lorenzo caught me.
“I can’t walk,” I whispered. “I’ve been standing in the same spot for an hour because my leg locked up.”