“Were you really going to tell me everything when we went to Afognak tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I had it all planned out. Afognak has always been home to me. Miller found the cave I hibernate in. I’d built a cabin inside, but he burned it to ashes.”
“Oh, Ian.”
“It’s fine. I was going to show you and bring the folder and tell you everything—let you see all of me. I couldn’t have gone to sleep for the winter without coming clean. It’s part of why I wanted you to wait to marry me until you’d been with me through the cold season. I want your eyes wide open when you take my last name.”
Her eyes felt puffy, and she had a headache from crying so much today, but some of the tension had left her shoulders as well. She hugged him tighter, then released him and sat down on the stair. Pulling a duck into her lap, she began to work in silence beside him.
And for a while, they just were. It wasn’t until she was working on the last duck that he turned to her and asked, “Are you going to tell me who bruised your neck?”
She swallowed against the lingering ache there. “Miller. He came in the bar drunk. I know how Cole was at the end, and his brother is headed down the same path, Ian. Maybe he’ll be worse. I don’t know. He seems to think that mark Cole gave me makes me a McCall claim.”
A snarl ripped from Ian. “You’re not. You’re mine.”
“I know I am.” No longer able to shoulder what had happened in the bar, she murmured, “Miller choked me, and I put the blade against his throat. Then the bartender, Eric…well, he put a gun to Miller’s head and got me breathing proper again.” She dragged her gaze to Ian and rested her elbows on her knees with the limp, half-plucked bird hanging from her hands. “Ian, he’s going to bring us trouble.”
“That’s what they do, Elyse.” Ian’s eyes turned fierce, darkening like storm clouds. “The McCalls always bring trouble.”
Chapter Twenty
Ian opened his eyes to the pitch blackness. He blinked rapidly a couple of times, trying to remember where he was. The bed was as unfamiliar as the room, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, everything that had happened yesterday crashed over him like stormy ocean waves.
Elyse had forgiven him for hiding the truth, but he would have to work to earn her trust back. Tonight, he was sleeping in the guest room in an effort to give her space to process all he’d kept from her. It had taken him forever to fall asleep, and apparently he was still restless without his mate in his arms because he was awake again, only—he looked at his watch—two hours after he’d gone to sleep.
The soft clink of metal sounded from the other side of the house near Elyse’s bedroom. Miki let off a low growl. Ian slipped out of bed and padded out of the guest room and through the den, careful to miss the creaky boards.
He hadn’t just woken up restless. Something had his hairs raised on end, and by the time he reached Elyse’s room, he could smell it—the stink of a werewolf. Elyse was lying in bed on her side, facing him, fast asleep and unbothered, but Miki was looking out her bedroom window, his dark lips curled up, exposing a row of needle-sharp puppy teeth. Little brawler.
Ian heard it again. Metal on metal. Mother-fuckin’ Miller was trying to steal from Elyse.
Ian’s rage started in his middle, unfurling like a poison as it filled him. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed down a growl and padded out the front door because it was a silent opener. The air nipped at his bare chest as he slunk silently around the cabin. A figure stood beside the freezer, shoving a small key into the padlock with a muttered curse.
If he hadn’t recognized Miller’s voice, he sure as shit would’ve recognized the pungent aroma of unwashed body and wet dog.
Ian leaned against the log wall. “Your little thief key don’t work anymore, McCall.”
Miller started and spun, his eyes blazing white. “S-Silver.” He cocked his head and straightened his spine from the defensive crouch he’d sunk into. A deep frown making him even uglier, he asked, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Inside, Miki went mad, barking in a much deeper voice than the pup had ever used before.
Ian offered him a dead smile. “My territory now. I’d suggest you get the fuck off it before I rip your throat through that hideous mouth-hole of yours.”
“Your territory.” Miller took a step back and leaned on the padlocked deep freeze he’d been trying to rob. He slid a slit-eyed gaze to Elyse’s bedroom window, then back to Ian. “Your territory? I think you’re lost. See, this is wolf territory, along with that pretty little bitch inside.”
Ian didn’t hide the snarl in his throat now. Miller should see his death coming. “She chose me.”
“Bull—”