“Keep your words of wisdom to yourself and focus on the task at hand,” Lorenzo said in a caged voice, one that sent a chill up my spine.
I stepped around him so I could hand William the Jell-O. “Take this to Denver.”
He grabbed the cup and stared at Lorenzo again, awaiting orders.
Lorenzo gave none, so William looked between us and then walked away. Few men were as loyal and obedient as William, but when it came to the relationships he formed with Packmasters, he seemed less intimidated by Austin. Then again, Lorenzo didn’t just throw off menace—he was menace. If what Jericho said was true, then I should have been afraid of this man.
I turned to face Lorenzo. I couldn’t help but notice his body language—how closed off he was with his hands in his jean pockets. Dark jeans, slightly loose and slung low on his waist. No matter what he wore, Lorenzo always managed to look impressive. And yet here I was, still in the same shirt, reeking of cigarettes, and hadn’t even washed my hair.
His eyes swung down to my cane, and in that moment, I felt the stinging truth of how others saw me: incompetent and inferior. Had he slept with me out of pity or just convenience?
Stop it, I thought to myself. I refused to taint our memories with self-doubt, so I pushed those poisonous thoughts away and lifted my chin. “You look well.”
“Austin informed me of your situation. This is hardly what I would have dreamed up,” he said, looking around the room.
“Sometimes you have to make bold moves.”
Lorenzo folded his arms and looked down at me with a penetrating gaze. He must have been at least five inches taller than me. “Something tells me this was not entirely Cole’s idea.”
“What brings you here?”
Laughs erupted from behind me at the bar and Lorenzo gave them a baleful look, waiting for the commotion to die down before he spoke again. “You’re not thinking of doing something impulsive, are you?”
I looked around and didn’t recognize anyone else in Lorenzo’s pack. He was here alone. “Tell me why you’re really here.”
“Careful, buddy. She might smack you over the head with that cane,” a man jeered.
Many eyes pressed upon us—judgmental eyes. Ones that would appraise a Packmaster’s worth by the men at his back and the woman at his side. Uncertainty became a stony mask on his face, and I stepped away.
“You’re not safe in a place like this,” he said.
“My pack is looking after me. I’m surrounded by those who love me, so why would I not be safe?”
Something flickered in his eyes, but he remained impassive. “Does Cole care nothing about his land that he would leave it unguarded for any man to seize?”
“Better his land than his pack. Only trees are rooted in land, and there they stay. You should know this, great oak. But a man whose heart is rooted in family finds a home wherever his pack is, and he is truly the free man.”
Lorenzo reached out and stroked my cheek. “When we first met, you were but a flowering vine swinging from the tree I found you in, trying to cling to anyone who would hold you.”
I brushed his hand away and drew back. “You are no better than my father, comparing me to a poisonous vine. I am not the desperate woman you make me out to be, and I have no need to cling to anyone but those who love me. I will not hold on to a great oak, because as magnificent as it may be, it will never hold me back. My family holds me with their kind words and love, and that is all a Shifter can ask for. What is it you want, Lorenzo? To question the integrity of my Packmaster? Fox is an intelligent man, and he might have easily flushed us out of that house. We’re better off within the city. There are places to take refuge, those who might help us, and…”
Through my powerful speech, Lorenzo cracked a smile. It was slight at first, but it became wide and he flashed his teeth at me.
I had begun to turn away when Lorenzo captured my wrist and tugged me against him. The cane dropped to the ground and his arm slid around my lower back in a claiming gesture. He cupped the nape of my neck with his other hand, and before I could protest, Lorenzo rubbed noses with me.
In the middle of a crowded club.
“Such a spirited wolf you have,” he growled.
“What do you want of me?”
He drew in a breath, as if taking in my scent. “Don’t you want to be my friend?”
“A man like you doesn’t make friends—he makes enemies.”
Lorenzo kissed me hard, his tongue slipping so deep that my legs quivered.
Then he drew back and rubbed noses again. “I can do friendship. Sunday night. Checkers. My place.” He pressed his lips to my ear and seduced me with whispers. “I can’t get you out of my head. These men leer at you in a way that makes me want to lose control. You need protection.”
“My pack protects me,” I said, forgetting the crowd around us as we held each other close.
“Will they protect you with their bodies as I will with mine?”