Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)

“You say that, and yet I don’t know if I quite believe it.” She ran a hand through his beard, and he did his best to memorize every plane of her face, every scar, every bit of her that made her Mandy.

Her wolf might crave the man near her, but that didn’t mean the human fully knew him. Yes, she might want him as a woman wanted a man, but she needed to know him, needed to see how she fit against him—literally and figuratively.

He slid his hand up her thigh to rest on her hip and stared down at her. “Gibson is part of this, yet, without him, I don’t think our beasts would be as…intent as they are. But the same could be said of me I would think. But without you? Without you, there wouldn’t be a glimmer. Your inner strength is what brought us here, and I know without you, I’d still be sitting in my room, trying not to pass out from the weight on my shoulders. And Gibson? Well, I don’t think he’d have been over here at all without you.”

She squirmed in his lap and he let out a soft groan. She froze, and he knew she felt his erection under her butt, causing her to blush. He knew she wasn’t a virgin as the den was too small for secrets, but he didn’t want to think of her past experiences. He just wanted to think of her.

Mandy swallowed hard and licked her lips. Oliver’s gaze fell to the motion and he stared once again. She lifted her hand slightly to cup his face rather than his beard and tilted her head. The line between her brows deepened, and he wanted to smooth it out. She only did that when she was thinking hard about something.

And she always seemed to be thinking hard around him and Gibson.

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” she whispered. He hadn’t expected her to say that, and from the way Mandy blinked, she hadn’t expected to say it either. “Claire died because someone wanted her dead, or she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t see it. You’re so hard on yourself, Oliver. You can’t control when a vision comes to you, and you can’t control how deep you go in the vision itself. It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

Oliver looked over her then, but kept his hands on her hip and lower back. “I’ve always tried to control them, you know. Maybe before the Verona Virus hit things were different, but if they were, I don’t remember. I wasn’t that old when we went into the compounds, and even though I knew I would one day be the Foreseer for the bears, I wasn’t as…entrenched in the visions as I am now. But no matter what I’ve done since, I can’t control them. I can’t see those I love…or I usually can’t.”

He looked down again and she blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

He let out a sigh and rested his head on the top of hers. She wrapped her arms around his middle. It was as if she knew he needed the comfort, even if he didn’t want to ask for it. Her wolf brushed up against his bear, apparently knowing his beast needed touch, as well.

“I’ve never been able to get clear readings of Anya or the cubs. Or even my parents before then. I also can’t see myself, though I’m the one living the visions at the time. But recently, things have been all out of order.” He paused a beat. “I’ve seen the cubs, but not at their death. I’ve seen Cole.” He sighed. “I’ve seen you and Gibson.”

He could feel her pulse quicken. He wanted to know what she was thinking. He shouldn’t have mentioned her and Gibson, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d needed her to know that he’d not only dreamt about her, but that he shouldn’t have because she was close to him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. In the span of mere moments, mere months, he’d started to fall for his two wolves. To humans, that might seem fast, but he wasn’t human. Though it did scare the hell out of him.

“I don’t know what any of it means,” Oliver said softly. “I never do, though I muddle my way through it.”

She pulled back then so he could see her face. “I wouldn’t call that muddling. You’ve saved people, Oliver. And with each vision you fall deeper into the hell you live through every day. I know it’s taking part of you away every time you do it, and it hurts me to think of it. So don’t call it muddling. You do so much, and yet you never take anything from it, never let the world know that you tried.”

“I’m not used to people trying to take care of me,” he said softly. “No, that’s a lie. Anya’s been taking care of me since we were children because of my so-called gifts. And yet…yet it feels different with you. She’s tried to keep me alive, and yet with you—and Gibson—I feel like I want to live.” He cupped her face and stared down into those big eyes of hers. “How do you do this to me, little wolf? How can you reach me when no one else can?”

He traced her cheek with his thumb and she licked her lips. He wanted to do the same, wanted to capture her mouth and take it as his own. He wanted to feel her body against his, see how well she fit below him, over him, near him.