Page 34 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

Come on, you asshole. He gritted his teeth, willing the temperamental appendage to do its job and stop him from falling on his ass. The last thing he needed was a curious Haley rushing downstairs and finding him sprawled on the hardwood.

Yeah, that would really impress her—an Alpha who couldn’t manage to get out of his own damn chair.

Not that he needed to impress her. It didn’t matter what she thought of him. Based on her mumbled “goodnight” as she left, she didn’t think much of him to begin with.

“Good,” he said aloud. Thigh still quivering, he limped toward the door, one ear tuned to the sound of his left heel striking the ground. It took sixty-seven of those strikes for him to go from his study to his bedroom, assuming he didn’t make any detours.

And he wouldn’t. The unexpected trip to the airfield, followed by the stress of carrying Haley’s suitcase, meant his leg was toast for the night. A shower would be wonderful, but he couldn’t risk it. No, the best he could hope for was making it up the stairs and into his bed without ending up on the floor.

What was it the young people said? Hashtag goals.

Thigh burning, he made it to the door and hit the lights. His night vision was decent enough to let him see in the dark, and he’d long ago removed any area rugs or runners that might trip him up. The downside was that the house was prone to echoes. Normally, it wasn’t something he worried about. Living alone, he could be as loud as he pleased.

He reached the foot of the stairs and stopped, one hand on the railing, his gaze canted up. When he built the house, he almost nixed the plan for a guest room. Why waste all that space when he didn’t need it? The Washington Territory didn’t “do” guests. On the rare occasion a wolf from another pack visited, they stayed at the Rupert Inn, one of a handful of businesses in Elder Lake and the only hotel in town.

Fresh anger spiked in his veins. If it hadn’t been for Joel getting wind of Glenna’s plans, the Ruperts might have snagged Haley from Sea-Tac and bustled her into their bed and breakfast without Bard being none the wiser.

He’d have to thank Joel properly. The grizzled old wolf didn’t get out much these days, especially when the weather was damp. His joints were riddled with arthritis—something that happened sometimes as wolves approached the end of their lives.

Bard gripped the railing and let his gaze drop to the wooden steps. Joel had helped him stain the treads as the house was being built. None of the other wolves in the pack had seemed to understand why Bard refused to stay in the old mansion where the Washington Alphas had lived for close to two centuries.

But Joel understood. He’d been there the night Bard’s father died.

And he’d been in the forest two weeks later, when Bard defended his right to take his father’s place.

Clenching his jaw, Bard started to climb. He could count on Joel to take Haley to the airport in the morning. The old wolf knew what was at stake if she stayed.

Because Joel knew something the other wolves in the pack didn’t.

The Washington Territory was dying. It had been dying for two decades.

And Bard was determined to finish it off.

6

Haley opened her eyes. Immediately, sunlight filled her vision. She groaned and rolled to her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face in the pillow.

She couldn’t stay that way too long. Remy was a lovable goofball most of the time, but he could be as unforgiving as a drill sergeant when it came to showing up to morning training on time.

And if she missed training again—

Wait.

She flipped over. The ceiling was most definitely not her ceiling.

Reality crashed in, chasing away the last hazy shreds of sleep.

She wasn’t in her bedroom at the Lodge. She was in the Washington Territory in Bard Bennett’s guest room. And it was morning, which meant he could knock on her door at any moment.

She sat up and swung her legs over the bed, shoving hair out of her face as she went. Her feet hit the floor, and a wave of dizziness crashed over her, making her clutch at the mattress for support. Her stomach rumbled, and nausea rolled through her.

Okay, so skipping dinner last night hadn’t been the smartest move. She’d let pride get in the way of common sense.

After a minute, the nausea subsided. She released her grip on the bed and straightened her shoulders. For the first time, she looked around the room—really looked at it, taking in the furniture and decor. When she’d rushed upstairs last night, she hadn’t given it more than a cursory glance. Instead, she dumped her suitcase on a storage chest at the foot of the bed, dug out her toiletry bag, and headed straight for the shower in the en suite bathroom. Standing under the spray had been heaven after the long day of travel. It was amazing how something as innocuous as sitting on a plane could leave a person feeling grimy and unkempt.

In daylight, the room was actually quite beautiful. He must have hired someone to decorate. Because she couldn’t imagine the gruff, impatient Bennett hobbling around a furniture store.

Shame burned her throat, and she bit her lip. It was wrong to think of him as hobbled. Whatever had happened to him to cause his scars and injuries, he didn’t deserve it. No one did.

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