Page 100 of Blood of Vengeance

“Fine. Good. Not talking to me much, but living life.”

Living a life I could only watch play out. I missed her so much, and my fucking wolf wouldn’t stop whining for her. Rebel probably knew all of that, seeing as how he’d been by my side—watching Locklyn right along with me—from the moment I had driven into town.

A little girl came barreling through the doors as we sat there, screaming for Uncle Gates in a voice that seemed far too loud for such a tiny being. Fifteen heads turned in her direction, every wolf on alert. Every man ready to get up and solve whatever problem that little girl had. But then Gates appeared, and the only problem seemed to be that she needed a hug. A man who looked like a bigger, more grizzled Gates followed her into the clubhouse, grabbing arms and greeting everyone as he moved. A scene of a reunited family playing out in a place where I would have expected more X-rated displays.

“Seriously,” I said, amazed at how the men in the room bent down to greet the little girl as if she were one of their own. “What the fuck is up with this place?”

Rebel sighed and tilted his chair back, balancing on the back two legs. “I found my mate first—a human, like yours—then Gates, then Phoenix, then Beast—Gates’ brother. The dominoes just kept falling for us. Gates’ mate, Kaija, wanted to ride with us, which opened the clubhouse up to the women in our lives. Beast’s mate was pregnant when she popped into the picture?—”

“With his baby?”

“Nope,” he said, popping that P before pointing the top of his beer bottle in my direction. “But that little girl is Beast’s through and through. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking otherwise.”

“Understood.”

“Phoenix’s mate is a witch, so that brought a whole other set of drama into the mix, especially when her sister mated to our Shadow. Then we got a necromancer mated to Jameson—you probably know him, seeing as how he’s from your region.”

I did know him. I also knew his mate. The woman was creepy as fuck, but she seemed nice enough, and Jameson definitely didn’t seem to mind that she tended to smell like death. A lot. “Yeah, I do.”

“The Fates just kept fucking rolling. My mate’s brother even found his mate in one of the female shifters around us. Pure fucking chaos for a handful of years. But in the end, we all wanted to ride, we all wanted to live the life of mated wolves, and we all wanted our families to know us and our brotherhood. We wanted to build those connections.” He shrugged before taking a long gulp of his beer, dropping back down to set his chair on four legs before leaning across the table. “You could have this, you know.”

I looked around, taking in the smiling faces. The comfortable energy of the room. The women looking happy whether cuddling with their men or chatting with others. It was like a scene from a goddamned rom-com, one I didn’t quite fit into. “I don’t think my mate wants me right now, let alone any sort of connection to club life.”

“Maybe not, but we’ve all been there. Especially those of us mated to humans—that learning curve when it comes to shifters and humans being in a mated pair is fucking steep.” He looked around, catching eyes with his pretty mate, Charlotte, who had been sitting at the bar with what appeared to be two shifters she knew. “Totally worth it, though. Every second of strife is worth it in the end.”

“I don’t think the Hellions would be willing to accept mates and kids the way you guys have.”

“So, come here.” He turned his ice-blue gaze on me, his face a mask of seriousness. “You’re technically a Feral Breed outpost, so it’s not like you’d be changing clubs. Just making a move to a different city.”

That thought had already been rolling through my head for days—moving to Detroit permanently for Locklyn. I’d do it in a heartbeat if she asked, but she would have to ask. This being half in and half out of her life wouldn’t work for me in the long run, and every decision on our future needed to be led by her. I’d fucked us up enough—I couldn’t be trusted to take the reins again just yet.

So I admitted the one thing truly holding me back from making any sort of decision. “She’d have to actually want me with her.”

“Yeah, her refusing to talk to you is sort of a problem.” He smiled at his mate again. “I don’t know what the fuck the fates were thinking, mating us old men to these modern human women. I feel outranked on the daily, but she’s so fucking good at being mine.”

I sighed and ran a hand over my head, torn. Not having a definite path and needing Locklyn to help guide me to the right decision. For her. For us. Because the days of making decisions for just me were over. I had known that before the vampire attack, before the wake for her father, before I’d ever kissed her. The days of being just me ended that first night when I looked into her eyes. I wanted us to be an us, which meant making decisions that were best for the two of us. I’d failed at that by biting her without laying out what that would mean. I would not make a similar mistake again.

“At least I wouldn’t be fighting vampires up here,” I said, leaning back in my chair and giving the clubhouse another once-over.

“Yeah, they don’t really cause too much trouble in the Midwest.” He frowned. “I’m real sorry about Chiggy. I know I’ve said it, but the words will never be enough. He was a good man. Always full of laughs and energy when he came up this way. He will be missed.”

Yeah, he would be. By Locklyn and the brothers he left behind back in the desert. That was a given.

“I need to track down the rest of the fuckers who participated in his murder. Get my girl the payback she deserves by annihilating their entire fucking nest.”

Rebel nodded, tipping his beer in my direction. “You need backup, you let us know.”

And that right there was the sign of a good club president—willing to go to war for a brother, whether one of his own or one from another house. Willing to pull up when needed. I would probably enjoy being a Feral Breed Detroit member with Rebel at the helm.

And I would definitely enjoy moving my entire life if it meant having Locklyn in it.

If she wanted me.

Locklyn

Lunch out with my bestie had not been the norm since we’d come back to Detroit, but when the restaurant Zella had once worked for had a new menu launching and needed taste testers, we took advantage of the opportunity.

“This is really good,” Zella said, gracefully stirring the soup she had chosen. “Did you like your salad?”

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