Lure of Oblivion (The Mercury Pack #3)

Zander’s jaw clenched. “Not going to argue with you about this, Derren. Leave it alone. When I want your approval about who I have in my bed, I’ll let you know.”

The Beta snorted. “Don’t be an ass, Zander. I had a point. I made it. You want to ignore it? That’s your call—you’re a grown fucking man. But it’s not like you to give people the benefit of the doubt, which makes me think that either you’re in deep with this human or you have a blind spot here because you’re mixing Shelby’s situation with this one. Whatever it is, be careful . . . because both those scenarios could bite you on the ass.”




Gwen hadn’t heard him coming. Even as she sat on the wooden swing hanging from the tree, surrounded by only the evening quiet of the marsh, she hadn’t heard him stride down the boardwalk. It was truly eerie.

Still, she sensed she wasn’t alone and opened her eyes to see him standing beside the swing. His face was in shadow, but she somehow got the feeling that he was frowning.

She hadn’t seen him since she’d checked his pack mates into their room earlier that day. From what she could tell, he’d spent the entire day with them—exploring the marsh, showing them the borders of the land, going on a pack run.

He’d then gone to a local restaurant with them for dinner—something she’d discovered from Marlon, since Zander hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. Marlon was unhappy with Zander for not inviting her to join them. As she’d already planned to go with Yvonne to Julie’s house, Gwen would have declined anyway. Still, Marlon felt his behavior was rude. For Gwen, ducking her was rude.

She refused to acknowledge that she’d actually missed him a little—apparently, she’d gotten too used to him being around her all the time. Gwen raised a brow. “So . . . are you done pettily avoiding me for a reason you haven’t cared to share with the class?”

Zander’s jaw hardened. Had he been avoiding her? Yeah. He’d needed time to think shit through and to work it all out in his head. So many things made no sense, and the only person who could really make him understand was Gwen. “You ever seen your birth certificate?”

Stilling the swing with her foot, Gwen blinked. He could be so damn random at times, and she didn’t see where he was going with this. “Of course. I have a copy.”

“So, you know that your father’s name isn’t on it.” A muscle in his cheek ticked. “But you know who he is, don’t you?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a dare for Gwen to deny it, to lie to him. And if he thought she’d have reason to lie about it, he obviously knew the truth . . . which meant he’d done a thorough background check on her. She figured she should have expected that. There was no reason for him or his pack mates to trust her. Still, it stung. What hurt worse was his stiff behavior and curt voice. “Now you think that I, what, work with Kenny Cogman?” She’d tried to keep her tone even but failed by a mile.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was your father?”

The note of betrayal in his tone made her spine lock. “Oh, I’m sorry, have you told me everything about you?”

“I spoke to you about my family,” Zander pointed out. “I told you more than I’ve told most people.”

Okay, well, that sort of caught her off guard. “Kenny isn’t my family. I don’t even consider Hanna my family. I haven’t seen her since the social worker took me away when I was eight.” And Gwen had absolutely no issue with that. “Kenny’s sperm had fun with Hanna’s eggs—that’s the extent of his role in my life.”

Yeah, thought Zander, but Kenny wasn’t completely out of her life if she was linked to him through her half sister. “Do you consider Geena family?”

Gwen stiffened. She wasn’t touching that one. The subject of Geena was off-limits.

“We know you’re in contact with her.”

Then they’d certainly run an extensive search. “If by that you mean you had someone check my phone records, you and your pack are creepy motherfuckers because that is going way too far.”

“Given how different you are from Geena, given that you actually have a fucking conscience, I fail to understand why you’re in contact with her.”

Well, given he and his pack had invaded her privacy in such a way, Gwen failed to understand why he thought she’d tell him shit. “Look, if I wanted your opinion on everything, I’d have married you, okay.” She held up her hand when he went to speak. “Climb back out of my ass, Zander. My business is exactly that—mine.”

His fists clenched. “She’s as bad as Kenny. Worse in some ways. Why would you have anything to do with someone like that? Make me understand, Gwen, because I don’t fucking get it.”

“I don’t need you to get it.” Gwen rose from the swing. “And I don’t have to explain or justify myself to you—and definitely not to your nosy-ass pack. I’ve got an idea. If you have such a problem with me and what I do with my life, get the fuck out of it and go back to California.”

“Is that what you want?” he clipped. “For me to leave?”

No, she didn’t. Nonetheless . . . “Tell me something, Zander. If I did a background search on you that totally invaded every inch of your life and then I expected you to explain your choices, would you actually care to do that?”

He sighed. “Gwen—”

“Would you want me around, knowing I have so little respect for your privacy?”

“I wasn’t the one who ordered the background search, Gwen. No one did it to hurt you—my pack’s intention was to be sure that Bracken and I knew everything we needed to know. They did it out of concern for our safety.”

“But you didn’t need to know all of that, Zander. And I sure as hell don’t need to defend any of it. You don’t like that? Go Yahoo, Who gives a rat’s ass? I can promise you won’t find my name.” She turned to march down the boardwalk, but a hand pulled her up short.

“We’re not fucking done,” he growled.

She pulled her arm free. “Don’t fucking curse at me, Devlin, I’m not in the goddamn mood for this fucking shit. And we’re so done.” Hearing the front door slam shut, Gwen looked to see Ally rushing off the porch.

“Ally, wait!” Derren called out, hot on her heels with Bracken right behind him.

Zander prowled toward them, abruptly alert, as their footsteps thundered along the boardwalk. “What’s going on?”

“Get her in the house!” Ally shouted, urgency in every syllable. “She’s not—”

The breath left Gwen’s lungs as something heavy crashed into her back, knocking her down. Fire blazed along her shoulder blades as razor-sharp knives stabbed and tore through her skin like butter. Not knives, she numbly realized as a short, shrill shriek split the air. Talons.