Four Days (Seven Series #4)

If he thought I would shift into my wolf just so he could dominate her with some posturing, he was mistaken.

 

The tension thickened when Lorenzo’s grey wolf approached from behind. His toenails clicked on the floor as he took heavy steps toward the white wolf, positioning himself between us. The other wolf crouched low, licking at Lorenzo’s jaw before rolling onto his back with his belly up. Lorenzo locked his mouth around the young wolf’s snout, baring all his sharp fangs.

 

When he growled, I smothered a laugh. There was no need for him to continue this showy display of dominance, so I touched his back and whispered, “Thunder, that’s enough.”

 

He curled around and stood beside me, taking a position against my injured leg. In fact, Lorenzo’s wolf sat beside me the entire time I spent getting to know his pack. The man with the slim ponytail went by Aaron, and one of the women in the room had a high-paying position as a financial advisor. Most of them were friendly, but I could tell Lorenzo’s presence changed the way they behaved.

 

An hour later, someone burst through the front door and entered the room. Cold air rolled off him as he pulled off his gloves with his teeth. “We’ve got a situation. A Shifter is at the end of the property, and he wants to see our visitor.”

 

“Is this your friend?” the woman across from me asked, tugging a curl of hair that had fallen loose.

 

I rose to my feet. “Do you want me to go out and meet him or bring him here?”

 

“Bring him here,” someone suggested in a dark voice.

 

“You can’t hurt him if he comes in peace,” I said. “Those are the rules.”

 

They knew the rules, but they were also mad as hell that someone had tried to infiltrate their home.

 

“Well,” Aaron said, rising to his feet, “I can’t promise Lorenzo won’t try to take him down.” He stroked his black ponytail and crossed the room. “Let’s just see what happens.”

 

When I turned to follow, Lorenzo’s wolf—whom I’d been calling Thunder—did a peculiar thing. He turned with me so that he remained on my left side. At first I touched his head to get my balance. But then I felt him push back and raise his head higher, as if he were offering me full support.

 

His alpha wolf let me use him as a crutch. It’s not as if I walked with a hard limp, but I also couldn’t keep up with everyone else. And without something to hold to keep my balance, I risked falling if I moved too fast.

 

The men suggested I wait in Lorenzo’s room on the opposite side of the house. It was a simple room with a chair and Native American furnishings. Watcher said that Lorenzo’s wolf would feel more in control in this room and be less likely to attack Fox, so long as our visitor remained submissive.

 

I took a seat in a large wooden chair facing the window, and Lorenzo sat beside me to the left. I didn’t pet him as if he were a dog but anxiously waited, wondering if he would lunge and rip out Fox’s throat.

 

The wind howled outside and tiny taps clattered against the window from the freezing pellets of sleet. Nothing had accumulated on the ground except a light dusting. I remembered hearing rumors that large congregations of Breed could influence changes in the weather, bringing more dramatic temperature changes. Something about our energy, but I spent little time listening to hearsay.

 

I traced a few patterns on the rug below with my toe, admiring the handwoven designs. I wondered how many of these artifacts had belonged to his grandmother. Something about that melted my heart. The fact that someone as formidable and seemingly cold as Lorenzo could have such respect for an older woman in his family—such love—that he wanted her possessions to be part of his new life and home really touched me. Yet he kept this side of himself hidden from the outside world.

 

When the door opened, Lorenzo stood on all fours and drew in heavy sniffs, taking in the scent of a stranger.

 

Fox slipped inside, lowering the hood from his green jacket and revealing salt-and-pepper hair. He kept his jacket on and approached with caution.

 

“This is the Packmaster,” I said, hardly needing to tell him that. He could no doubt sense the alpha power in his presence. “Lorenzo Church.”

 

“Is he gonna stay that way?”

 

“It’s his turf, so I’d say yes. Have a seat.”

 

Irritation flashed in his eyes. “You want me to sit on the floor?”

 

The thought of him sitting at my feet was empowering. “Yes. I don’t think Lorenzo is comfortable with you standing taller than him.”

 

Fox grumbled some profanities and sat down with his right leg bent at the knee. He avoided direct eye contact with Lorenzo, but I could tell the growls had him on edge.

 

“I’m told three of your men are dead,” I began. “Is that enough to make you quit and go elsewhere?”

 

He rubbed his red nose. “Winners never quit and quitters never win.”

 

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