Page 9 of Semi-Reckless

CHAPTER 6

It’s your fault.

Which was, of course, the truth. It was his fault that Haven lost a job she loved—and her life for two minutes, twelve seconds. If he’d been doing his job as her team leader, he would’ve taken that hit for her. But he hadn’t been fast enough. So, he knew everything she was going through now was his fault.

Hearing her say it, though, was a special kind of agony Roan hadn’t exactly been prepared for.

She was also right that showing back up in her life randomly did send a message—the wrong one. They couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not ever again. It was selfish of him to keep showing up, uninvited, in her life. Helping her get her job back and walking away once and for all was the only way to make it all up to her.

Even if it killed him to let her go.

Haven never needed to know how walking away would impact him, either. He wasn’t her concern. Eventually, she might even be able to not hate him.

Today, however, was not that day.

He glanced over at the angry set of her jaw and her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as she pulled up to the campsite where the werewolves reportedly congregated.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t today.

It was better this way, he told himself. He’d rather she be pissed at him than hurt by him.

Turning his attention to the campsite, he did a quick assessment of what they were about to walk into. It wasn’t good, but Roan had seen worse.

There were twelve young werewolves that Roan could see. Ten of them had formed a circle around two that were beating the fuck out of each other by the light of a nearby campfire while the others cheered, drank, and generally acted like drunken frat boys. Great.

The good news was that there wasn’t an alpha wolf among them. Shifters, much like vampires and demons, got stronger with age. He could wipe this group off the map without breaking a sweat if he wanted to.

Haven didn’t appear to do any assessment of the situation. Just threw the car into park, then leapt out, marching purposefully toward the werewolves. Fearless—and reckless—as ever. Although with this group, he wasn’t sure caution was required. She’d been fighting creatures wilder than these since she was in kindergarten.

“Hi, guys!” she called out in that musical voice of hers.

Every eye turned in her direction and widened. Even the fighters stopped throwing punches to check out their visitor.

This was a fairly typical reaction newcomers had to seeing Haven for the first time. The hair, that face, those eyes that looked they could see right into your soul (and they could)…it was stunning. Literally. Hell, Roan still had that reaction, and he’d seen her countless times over the years.

These wolves didn’t stand a damn chance.

It took Haven all of three seconds to determine who the mouthpiece of the group was. Roan could see it on her face the second she figured it out. She’d probably gauged it by his aura. Roan knew this one was in charge (loosely in charge) because he was the only one who had looked beyond Haven. The only reason anyone would look past Haven to him was if they were trying to assess a potential threat.

Only a really shitty leader would fail to see Haven as a threat.

But this werewolf swaggered up to her like she couldn’t destroy him emotionally, physically, and psychologically with little to no effort. Dumbass.

The young wolf looked to be in his late twenties. Tallish, dark hair, light eyes. Leanly muscled like a runner. Not a threat to him or Haven.

But the thing about him that really made Roan want to bash his stupid face in? That’d be the way he was looking at Haven.

He was looking her up and down like he wanted to eat her alive.

Not on my fucking watch, asshole.

Roan stepped up behind Haven but stood just slightly to her left so the overeager wolf could get a good look at the fire he allowed to light his eyes. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down, unblinking.

The werewolf swallowed hard, but maintained his cocky stance as he stopped in front of Haven. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he asked.

Roan didn’t care at all for the emphasis he put on the words I and you. But Haven didn’t seem to mind as she tucked her hair behind her ear and gazed up at him. Roan didn’t have to see her face to know she was batting those big green eyes. Give her five minutes and this loser would be ready to go to war if it pleased her.

“I’m Haven,” she said, holding her hand out to the wolf.

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