Page 13 of Change the Plan
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I do. Because I’ll bark him into submission. And I’ll pay him. That’s the plan. He can walk away once we know we’re done with children, and he’ll be a rich man with enough money to start setting up his own pack, far, far away from here.”
“He could kill you.”
“And I could kill him,” Van says darkly.
I stare out the window, not really seeing anything, a clawing fear in my throat. “It’s not fair on you. Or Benji. Or anyone.”
“I can’t force him to join the pack. If he does join, it’ll be of his own volition. I know it feels unethical, but I promise you, there’s no way to make it happen unless he chooses it himself.”
There’s a dark part of me that doesn’t care about ethics. I just care about my husband’s life. “He’s Brett’s nephew,” I say, referring to my mum’s husband, a wonderful man who is already a member of the pack.
“I know. I know how complicated and fucked up it is, believe me. If you can think of another way, tell me.”
I shake my head. “There’s no other way to know if you’ve been cursed?” It sounds so ridiculous, but as Van has reminded me time and time again, magic rarely makes sense from a human perspective.
“Oh, I know I have. Losing the good relationship that I had with my Dad during my childhood to my alpha instincts made my life a living hell. I’m cursed. It’s got to end with me.”
The rest of the drive home is sombre. When our headlights reflect off the vineyard’s sign, the wordsLost Moon Estate Vineyard, Motuwai Islandshining in metallic gold, I turn towards Van once more. “If you didn’t have to worry about any of this alpha stuff, when would you want to start trying for a baby?”
“Yesterday.” He gives me a nervous smile. “It’s scary, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realised I don’t think there’s ever going to be a right time, or that I’ll ever feel completely ready for it. I love you. We can put every support in place to make sure we don’t loseusin the process… we’re not lacking the funds to hire support if we need it. If you’re ready, then I would like to start. I’m thirty-four, it’s not like we’re kids.”
I let out a small sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’m ever going to feel ready-ready. I think people just take that leap of faith at some point, if kids have been on the cards?”
“Or have accidents.”
“Orthat,” I agree. “I could’ve just skipped the Plan B.”
“It’s fine. It was the right thing to do so that we could give proper thought to it.”
“I can easily slow my schedule down; the business will still be there when I choose to pick it up again.” I’ve finally got my garden design business to a place where I have regular demand for big projects, but I’ve always told myself that I want to have a good work-life balance. I’mallowedto plan for maternity leave at some point. Technically, I don’t even need to work at all, but I do it because I love it. “I think you should go speak to Benji soon,” I tell him, “even if it terrifies me. Because my answer to when we start trying would beright now.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
VAN
The scent of another alpha will always make my wolves’ hackles rise, though I do my best not to show it. The air around Benji’s small rental — a bach one road back from the beach — is thick with the stink of him, and I suppress the urge to growl.
As he steps out into his yard, it’s clear that he’s having the same reaction.
“Van,” he snarls, radiating aggression. He may be young, but Ellie was right. When I first employed him at Lost Moon he was a lanky teenager, but now helookslike an alpha.
It’s hard not to respond to him in kind.
“Benjamin.”
“What do you want? ‘Cause it’s gotta be something for you to show up here, right?”
Keep it short,I remind myself.Don’t take his bait.I haven’t put up with him living on this island for the past two years just fuck this up now. “I want you to join the pack, officially.”
He barks out a laugh that drips with sarcasm. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
“No.”
“You want me to join the pack underyou?”he asks, his Australian accent thicker than usual. The resemblance to Brett is uncanny, but his personality — at least around me — is vastly different from the relaxed man that his uncle is. “Are you fuckin’ insane? What is your wolf telling you right now? I doubt it’shey mate, that’s a great idea. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do I need to call a fuckin’ helpline for you?”
“That’s cute that you think you could win in a fight against me.” The words are out before I can stop them, my tone sounding too much like my own father — arrogant to the point of being an asshole.
