It hadn’t been until they showered together that Makenna saw them. They weren’t battle scars. No. The scars, lesions, and burns told her that he’d been subjected to horrific torture. And she fucking hated that. Her wolf had lunged to the surface with a growl, making Makenna’s eyes turn wolf. Ryan had kissed and licked her neck, soothing the animal and calming her. Makenna had wanted to ask about them, but it didn’t seem right to do it while he had three fingers buried in her. There was a time and a place for conversations like that. It was—
A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision alerted her that she wasn’t alone. Ryan was in the doorway, staring at her, eyes inscrutable as always. Naked, he was a sight to behold with all those sleek, hard muscles and a set of fantastic abs. She met his gaze through the mirror. “You do realize I look like the victim of an assault, right?”
Moving to stand behind her, Ryan cupped her hips possessively, eyes roaming over her brands. “I don’t think my back looks much better than your front.”
Recalling the amount of times she’d clawed him, she’d have to agree with that. She’d also bitten his shoulder a few times. “We need to learn some self-control.”
Ryan usually had that in abundance. He was rough during sex—it was the way he liked it. But he never lost control. Except with Makenna. “You need another bath.”
Makenna made a show of sniffing her armpit. “I don’t smell that bad.”
He ignored that. “Even though you had one last night, you still have to be sore.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t mind.” It was a reminder that he’d been there, a reminder of their night of endless hot sex.
“You should still have one.”
His gruff voice made her smile. He was trying to take care of her. “I need to eat first.” As if to express its agreement, her stomach rumbled.
“Then we eat.”
Despite how hungry she was, Makenna wasn’t at all looking forward to breakfast. The Phoenix wolves were bound to say something about the brands, since her T-shirt wasn’t going to cover all of them. Not one to procrastinate, however, she got washed and dressed.
On the way to the kitchen, they knocked on Zac’s door. A grumpy, sleepy voice called out, “Go away.”
“Zac isn’t a morning person,” Makenna warned Ryan as she picked Zac’s lock with a hairclip. Swinging the door open, she shouted, “I hope you’re not naked, kid, because I’m coming in.”
“Ah, Makenna, it’s early,” he slurred. They found him in bed, curled up under the quilt. Makenna opened his curtains, and Zac shrunk away from the daylight like he was a vampire. Dragging the covers over his head, he whined something incomprehensible.
“If you don’t get up, you’ll miss breakfast.”
“Grace goes all out,” added Ryan. “There’ll be bacon, eggs, toast, biscuits and gravy—”
Zac shot up in bed and peeked at them out of one eye. “Biscuits and gravy?”
Ryan nodded. “But Marcus is here. He never stops eating, and he loves biscuits and gravy. If you don’t hurry, there’ll be none left.”
It was almost comical when everyone did a double take at the brands on Makenna’s neck and upper arms when they walked into the kitchen ten minutes later. If their shock was anything to go by, Ryan hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t usually the possessive type. Zac hadn’t seemed that surprised by the brands; he’d merely smirked.
The Phoenix wolves recovered quickly enough from their shock, greeting Zac warmly and behaving fairly amicably toward Makenna. As they took their seats, no one made any teasing comments about Ryan’s display of possessiveness, although it looked as if Trick was eager to say something. Maybe he was holding back because Zac was present—she wasn’t sure. In any case, it meant that the meal wasn’t the uncomfortable affair she’d expected. Until Greta spoke.
“How could you, Ryan?” The old woman slammed her mug on the table. “What were you thinking, branding a loner? Her I expect this behavior from, considering why her pack banished her. But you . . . I raised you better than this.”
Looking at her blankly, Ryan grunted.
Jaime whispered to Makenna, “What did he say?”
Just as quietly, she replied, “He thinks she has way too much time on her hands.”
Jaime snickered into her coffee mug. “She does.”
“Whispering again?” griped Greta with a sneer.
Makenna nodded. “Try it sometime.” She jumped as Dominic started choking on his toast. Trey seemed to take delight in thumping him on the back. These people were strange.
After breakfast, many of the pack accompanied Makenna, Zac, and Ryan to the parking lot. While they made a fuss of Zac and said their good-byes, Taryn linked her arm through Makenna’s and said, “Walk with me a little.”
Makenna dug her heels in after three steps. “Um, I’d rather not.”
Taryn laughed. “I sure do like that you’re direct.”
“I know exactly what you’d like to say: that you’ve noticed all the brands, that you can see something’s going on between me and Ryan, and that you’ll come after me with a pitchfork if I hurt him.”
Taryn pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t have chosen a pitchfork.”