Page 372 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Jarrad stopped her with a ghost touch on her arm, eyebrows pinched in concern.

“Tabitha, don’t shut me out. Don’t—”

She put a finger to his lips to stop him, then replaced them with her lips in a short kiss full of promise.

“Not shutting you out. Just being a mum. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and quite frankly, she comes first. She always will.”

He understood. The man might not be a parent, but he knew responsibility. Even with the clouds hovering, this felt right. A promising ray of light in the eye of a storm.

With an extra swing in her step, she went inside.

And felt Jarrad’s eyes on her the entire way.

* * *

His mate wasin his home. Their home. Jarrad’s wolf howled with joy, and the man wasn’t much better. Hell, after that kiss he was rock hard, and no way he could go into that house with a horn from hell. As Tabitha disappeared inside he hurriedly stripped, shifting seamlessly into his wolf form.

The pain that accompanied a shift was excruciating, as you would expect when a body readjusted size and shape, but worth it. They’d been given a gift, experiencing life in another skin. The pain had the added benefit of taking care of his earlier problem. Loping off the veranda, he stopped on the lawn for a vigorous shake and scratch.

Then it was time for a perimeter check. There were no magic wards, but the pack had never needed them. The Inquisition weren’t monitoring them—wolves were natural after all—but occasionally you got a stray hunter who ventured onto pack lands and saw what he shouldn’t. That’s why each pack member took turns at sentry duty and their surveillance system was second to none. Even Ryan’s government tech buddies would have a hard time negotiating Jarrad’s security.

Echo was too small and far off the Great Western Highway, the regular route through the Blue Mountains, for anyone to bother holidaying there. It was just the hunters looking for wild boar, but they were kept far away from pack lands. Only idiots made it out there. Or trophy hunters who’d heard strange stories of wolf sightings and thought they’d bag a massive dingo or killer dog. But Jarrad was usually good at stopping those leaks.

Pack members patrolled in pairs, one in human form, one in wolf. The human wore the uniform of a National Park Ranger, and when the wolf or security system picked up an interloper, they’d intercept them with a lecture about hunting in national parks. Most didn’t come back. The few who persisted… disappeared.

It didn’t happen often, but it did often enough that Jarrad’s heart hurt.

Padding silently around the property boundary, he smelled no intruders. Heard nothing amiss. The sentries confirmed the same. Not that he expected there to be at this time of day, but still, it never hurt to check. He couldn’t be too careful with his mate and their pup.

Shifting quickly beside his clothing, Jarrad hastily dressed. He’d have to think about constructing a wolf-friendly change room. Or screen. Or something. Tabitha would NOT be okay with Luna seeing werewolf arse at regular intervals. And no one in the pack was shy. Wolves didn’t have the luxury of being body conscious when they loved to run in groups.

It was practicality.

The music of his girls’ laughter welcomed him home. The bass rumble of Ryan joining them, not so welcome. Still, Jarrad would take it if that meant his mate was even a tiny bit safer. He strode down the corridor into the kitchen and his heart stuttered in his chest. His mate was cooking. Inhiskitchen. And their pup drew pictures at the dining table, laughing at something her uncle said.

It was all so domestic, so… warm.

He ached to be part of it.

“Hey, Jarrad, look at my picture of Uncle Ryan. I made sure I got him zactly right.”

His mouth twitched at the corners as he obediently looked at Luna’s drawing. The eyes in the drawing were so wide set, they almost looked like a horse’s, the nose dwarfed his face. And Uncle Ryan’s neck was non-existent. Drawing obviously wasn’t Luna’s talent.

He looked up and grinned at a glaring Ryan, the other man silently daring him to comment. “Awesome, Luna! I really like the nose. And the shoulders. You drew him perfectly.”

A snort came from Tabitha at the stove, which she quickly muffled while fire flickered in Ryan’s eyes. Interesting. He’d have to check whether Tabitha’s eyes did something similar when she was riled.

Call him perverse, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

“Thanks, Jarrad. I’ll bring home the one I did of you at school when I come home tomorrow.”

She looked at him with such happiness that he ignored the smirking adult witches in his kitchen. “Can’t wait. I’ll pop it up on the fridge with all my prized possessions.”

It was true. His prized possessions, pictures drawn by all the pups in the pack at various stages of their schooling, covered the entire surface of his fridge. He had a file with others in his office. Couldn’t bear to throw them out, even when they got ratty.

“You should clear the middle for it.”

Demanding. Just like a little Alpha. She’d need that sass to handle Cole when she was older.

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