Dannika Dark - Six Months

“There are still just six of us. Ten if you count the girls, and only Ivy and Lexi are Shifters,” Reno pointed out. Ivy was the new blood in the pack, recently traded over by her father. It wasn’t common for a woman to come into a pack unmated to a male, so they treated her as a sister to prevent any friction.

“Well, there are too many rogues around here I wouldn’t trust,” Denver said. “Some of the larger packs might want to trade over, but they like to pass off their problem children like hot potatoes. Funny how humans have no idea how many of us there are living around here.”

True.

Shifters couldn’t smell one another, but sometimes they could pick up on Breed energy if they got close enough. Not always, but it helped since alphas didn’t have any tells like unique eye colors. The Packmasters usually got tattoos and made their identities known, so they were always easy to spot. Being an alpha was one thing, but a Packmaster held an important rank, and a hierarchy existed among their kind. There was even a pecking order among Packmasters.

“We should keep a close eye for candidates when going out,” Reno said. “Maybe drop a suggestion in Austin’s ear.”

It’s why clubs and bars often had a Shifters’ night. They needed to congregate and socialize, not only to build alliances with other packs, but also to scope out potentials for their own family. Sometimes friction existed in the packs with too many dominant males and that got resolved by a little pack trading.

“How’s your arm? Did you shift again?”

“Yeah,” Reno said, rubbing at it. The wound had been itching for the last two hours. “I did a quick shift in the bathroom, but that’s as much as it’s going to heal. It’s just sore as hell.”

Denver examined the scar and then sat back, touching the one on his forehead. “Well, if your wolf didn’t shift back for two days, it must have been for good reason.”

Damn, now Reno was thinking about it again. He took a slow sip from his beer bottle and had a strange feeling come over him. An alarming tingle raced up his spine and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

He fished his hand in his pocket and twirled a small object between his fingers. “I’m heading back into town.”

“The fuck you are,” Denver retorted.

Reno stood up and stretched his stiff back. “Tag along if you want, but I can’t sit around here. My wolf was out for too long and now I’m restless; you know that feeling. I need to walk it out of my system.”

“We could meet up and bowl with the guys.”

“I don’t bowl.”

Denver rocked with laughter and raised his beer in a toast. “Oh yeah, I forgot. The only balls you play with are your own.”

“Trevor, I can’t afford that. Put it back!” I laughed as he stood at the end of the grocery aisle, holding a steak like one of those game-show models.

“It’s on me,” he said, tossing it into the cart.

“And where are you getting this newfound money, Daddy Warbucks?”

A slender girl in a pair of white jeans sauntered by Trevor and batted her long lashes. I peered over my shoulder as we passed her.

“She’s looking at my ass, isn’t she?” Trevor muttered.

“Can you blame her? Now, back to the money.”

“I’ve got a little tucked away. The ex took care of all the bills,” he said with disdain. “I had a part-time job, so I made enough to stash a few dollars in my piggy bank.”

So that’s why he’d reacted to my comment about being taken care of. Trevor hadn’t hashed out the details of their separation, but maybe his ex had held that over his head and made him feel inferior.

“Well, just don’t spend it all on food. You need to tuck it away for your future, not expensive cuts of meat.”

“And that’s exactly why someday you’re going to be one of those rich old ladies with a million dollars stashed in the freezer. Most of us are impulse shoppers. We see it and got to have it.” Trevor lifted a pack of tuna and glanced at the label, privately chuckling as he put it back on the shelf. “You can tell a lot about a person who fills their cabinets with that shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he murmured, resting his elbows on the shopping cart handle. “Who’s this party for?”

“You remember Lexi, my boss? Well, she just moved in with this guy and all his brothers, I guess.”

“Sounds cozy.”

We slowly walked down the aisle, Trevor leaning on the cart. “She’s pretty serious about Austin and I wouldn’t be surprised if he popped the question on her. They’re having a housewarming party.”

“Should we bring a gift?”

Crap, I hadn’t thought about that . “Maybe a bottle of wine? I know Lexi loves red wine.”

“Go pick out a cheap bottle and I’ll get the rest of the stuff,” he said. “You talked some sense into me and I’m putting the steak back. We’re having Trevor Taco Delight for dinner.” Trevor swaggered off in his signature denim and button-up shirt ensemble. He never tucked in his shirts, so it made him look casual and put together at the same time.

It was so wonderful having him around again. Trevor could be a little odd at times, but I loved him unconditionally. He often started up fights with other guys over petty things, and sometimes the verbal exchanges between them were weird and made no sense. In fact, news flash —men in general made no sense to me.

I hurried down the aisle and made my way to the back of the store where the cheap bottles were lined up on the shelves.

Guilt weighed heavily on my conscience from pinching the money out of the company account, and I’d come to a decision. It wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe I’d get away with it, but I’d never be able to live with myself. The best way to handle it was to take out a loan from Maddox and immediately deposit all the money I’d stolen back into the business account. After I took care of Sanchez, that is. I didn’t want to owe anything to that finger-chomping maniac.

Jeez, too many choices , I thought, staring at the display of wine. I narrowed them down by the catchiest names that were under ten dollars. My fingers touched the caps on the bottles as I held my hand indecisively over the top shelf. I recognized a familiar brand on the second shelf—I’d seen it at a few parties. When I pulled my arm back, my bracelet snagged the neck of a Merlot.

Three bottles toppled over and smashed on the floor.

Glass exploded and red wine splashed across my legs. I covered my head with my arms and squeezed my eyes shut. When I dared to open them, I glanced down at the mess. Red wine pooled across the floor and saturated my sneakers. The bottles had cracked in large chunks and shards of glass were scattered everywhere.

Nice job, sweetheart , my inner voice mocked. Will you be paying by cash or credit?

The sound of shoes crunching over broken glass came from my right and I cringed, expecting to see a store employee with a mop in hand and a frown on their face.

Reno stalked toward me wearing mirrored shades, a formfitting black shirt, and boots with a thick tread.

Without a word, he hooked his strong arm around my lower waist and lifted me off the ground with a whoosh . I draped my arms over his shoulders, uncertain of what to do as he swiveled and walked me out of danger. I was in the middle of deciding whether I wanted to tell him to put me down or succumb to hero syndrome .

He stopped in front of the freezer of beer with me still in his arms. I marveled at how easily he held me, as if I weighed nothing.

“Hi,” I said, staring at my reflection in his glasses. Then I began to get my first close-up look at Reno.