Predator's Claim (22 page)

She breathed in and out, feeling hot, and wondered if someone had turned up the temperature in the pub. However, Bart then caught her eye, gave her an evil grin, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

Shit. Life would never be boring with her mate.

Her raunchy daydreams came to an end when Fletcher entered the pub and made straight for Bart’s table. Charlotte left her spot and went to stand behind Bart, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“I need to talk to you about Flynn,” said Fletcher.

Bart nodded at Rory. “Let’s pick this up later.” Rory scurried off and Bart turned to Fletcher. “Please tell me your ass of a brother is finally off this island.”

“Not quite.”

Bart’s jaw ticked in anger at being defied, so she gently massaged the back of his neck.

“Fletcher, you know my feelings on this. I want him gone. Flynn crossed the line. He’s hurt this family for the last time. Now do I need to personally boot him off the island?”

His cousin took a seat across from him. “He feels like shit, Bart. He knows he went too far and he’s hit rock bottom. I know my brother is a dickhead but he still never meant to let things escalate like this.” He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “He’s sorry and wants to tell you in person.”

Charlotte couldn’t resist interjecting. “Flynn has challenged Bart every step of the way. Bart has already been patient. Why should he listen to him now?”

Her mate squeezed her hand in acknowledgment of her support.

“Please,” said Fletcher. “Just talk to him tonight. One-on-one, no pack distractions. Flynn would like to make this right. Give him one more chance, Bart. He’s family.”

Bart held his cousin’s gaze for a long moment. He finally let out the breath he’d been holding and nodded. “All right. But I make no promises.”

Fletcher smiled in relief. “Awesome. He’s holed up in my cabin. Come by later and I’ll make myself scarce so you guys can talk.” He pushed away from the table, stood, and nodded his submission. “Thank you, my Alpha.”

Charlotte watched Fletcher walk away with an unsettled feeling in her stomach. Blaming it on cramps, she dismissed it. Bart patted his lap and she sat, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “I want to come with you. I don’t like the idea of you talking to Flynn alone.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. Besides, I’ll give him exactly five minutes of my time. If he doesn’t convince me of his utter penitence in that time, I’ll march him to the dock.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I appreciate you getting all butch for me.”

She moved to punch him in the shoulder. He caught her fist before it could make contact and laughed. “No, I have another idea,” he said under his breath, waggling his brows. “You stay in the cabin and wait for me. In bed. It’ll be incentive for me to resolve things with Flynn more quickly.”

“All you ever think of is sex, you beast.”

He leaned in, captured her lip, and nibbled it, causing her body to explode in a traitorous display of goose bumps. “And what are you thinking of right now?”

“You,” she admitted. “Fucking me.”

He leaned back and smiled smugly. “There you go. Kindred spirits.”

* * * *

As Bart prepared to set out to talk to Flynn, he couldn’t help noticing Charlotte’s unusual state. She’d never been the sort to get rattled easily but for the past half hour, she’d been pacing, kneading her belly with angry vigor. As he threw on his coat, he walked over and pulled her hands off her stomach. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep it up. What’s wrong, Charles? Is it your period?”

“It must be,” she said, her pretty face scrunched up in a frown. “Although I’ve never suffered from such bad cramps before. My wolf is restless too. It keeps attacking me.”

He brushed two fingers along her cheekbone and grinned. “Do I have to get my wolf to talk to your wolf?”

She ground her fist into her gut again and winced. “I wish you would.”

He eased her hand away. “Tell you what. You rest up, and when I get back, I’ll treat you to a full-body massage. Oil, candles, the whole nine yards. Sound good?”

She grinned and nodded, but he could see her mind and body were far from comforted. He’d make sure to give her the royal treatment when he got home from talking to Flynn. He hugged Charlotte, running his hands over her incredible curves. Man, he had to be an idiot to leave her to play Dr. Phil with his asswipe cousin. “Do you want me to stay, baby?”

“No, you need to do this. It’s just cramps. They’ll pass.” She looked at him, her pale eyes searing him. “You won’t be long, will you?”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed her on the mouth and tasted something different on her lips. The slightly acidic tang struck him an awful lot like fear. “Charlotte, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t want you to go.”

“It’s just our mate bond making you feel a little crazy. We haven’t left each other’s sides since I locked inside you. It’s normal we’d feel a little desperate for each other. I do, too.”

“I don’t trust Flynn.”

“I promise you I can handle him. I’ve been reading his moods for years. Look, if I get a bad vibe, I’ll get Fletcher to stick around. He’ll back me up. Okay?”

She sighed. “Okay. But if Flynn back talks you again, I will fuck him up.”

“That’s my woman.” With one more heated kiss for the road, he left her in the cabin and headed into the cold night.

Before he’d taken ten steps on the snow-encrusted ground, Bart felt eyes on him and turned around. Charlotte stood at his window, watching him, her face etched in worry.

*

Charlotte spent the first five minutes after Bart’s departure pacing. She spent the next five cursing her wolf for causing such a painful ruckus in her gut. She shoved her fist up under her ribs in a foolish attempt to make the pain subside, but it only got worse.

“What do you want from me, you flea-bitten hound from hell?”

The wolf finally stopped its incessant howling and biting and focused its glowing eyes on her.
Our mate’s in trouble
.

“What do you mean he’s in trouble?”

I just know the smell of danger is all around him. We have to go to him. We have to protect him
.

As panic wound an insidious path from her womb up through her intestines, Charlotte debated what to do. No doubt, she was merely acting under the influence of a potent mate bond that made her paranoid about Bart’s safety. He’d said so himself, and God only knew she’d seen shifters driven to distraction over their mates before.

On the other hand, he would meet with Flynn, a strong shifter who hadn’t thought twice before attacking Joseph and challenging Bart. He was pigheaded, had a martyr complex, and focused all his enmity on Bart’s family. Would her mate really be able to make him see sense?

“Okay, breathe,” she said as she paced. “He has Fletcher on his side.”

Fletcher. The man who’d sliced up Bart’s face when they were youngsters, leaving him with a dreadful scar. Clearly the more composed brother had his own anger issues. Would he really support Bart if push came to shove?

Her wolf lunged inside her core, its fangs bared, its mouth dripping with saliva and the need to inflict pain.

Without wasting another second, Charlotte slid into her granny boots and laced them and threw on her coat.

Would Bart be angry she hadn’t stayed put? You bet. Would he lecture her at length about listening to and obeying one’s Alpha? She expected nothing less. Would he spank her ass until it glowed pink?

She certainly hoped so.

However, recognizing all these truths, she set out after him. She’d never been much of a “stay put” sort of woman anyway. When Jake had been dying of cancer years ago, her parents begged her to limit her visits so her heart might not be so utterly broken when he passed. She’d said, “Fuck that shit,” and stood by her man, even though it had torn her heart to shreds.

She’d be damned if she wouldn’t do the same thing now.

Chapter 13

It took some time to reach Fletcher’s cabin, as it lay at the other end of the sprawling property. When Ryland had designed the Ursa Lodge he’d wanted to ensure his guests always enjoyed a sense of tranquility and privacy. As a result, some of the guest cabins were nestled deep in the thick woods, connected only by winding pathways. As Bart trudged along, he cursed his luck that Fletcher’s cabin was one of the most remote.

Bad enough he had to confront his cousin, never mind having to hike to get there. Good thing shifters didn’t tire easily.

His natural energy would serve him well as Alpha. With a wry grin, he realized he’d gotten accustomed to the idea without realizing it. Numerous schemes had already formed in his head with regards to the pack’s future, everything from helping young Rory with his security aspirations to seeing if Ryland might have work for a couple of pack members who’d lost jobs recently.

He could make this work and was even excited to see it unfold.

All because of Charlotte. Knowing she believed in him made all the difference. He was grateful his parents had seen his potential before he had and trusted him with the role, but Charlotte’s approval sat like a shiny gold star on his forehead. It made him want to aim even higher.

Now he just had to talk to Flynn and return to his fretting lady wolf.

He knocked on Fletcher’s front door and his cousin whipped it open. “Bart,” he said, smiling. “Thanks for coming.”

He stepped inside, surveyed the interior of the cabin, and was struck by an oddity. In many ways, Fletcher and Flynn had always been total opposites. Certainly this applied to how they kept house, how they dressed, and some of their other mannerisms. For instance, where Fletcher always dressed in designer duds, Flynn was usually as put together as Homer Simpson. Fletcher’s cabin didn’t break the mold. Everything was in its place. From the shoes lined up at the front door to the hospital corners on the bed, the room was in complete order.

And there was no sign of Flynn. No rumpled sheets on the couch. No open suitcases, their contents spilling onto the floor. No scent of Flynn anywhere.

His hackles went up and his wolf growled. “Where’s your brother?”

Fletcher’s smile stretched wider. “Oh, he’s just out back, walking the paths.”

“He knew I was coming and went for a walk?”

“Working off his nerves, I’d expect. He’s just in the clearing behind us. Why don’t you go talk to him there? I’ll stay here and give you some privacy,
my Alpha
.”

Okay, it was officially starting to bug Bart, how Fletcher called him
my Alpha
. He wasn’t a goddamn king, after all. As a hundred warped possibilities flew into his head, he tore out the door and headed behind the cabin, readying his wolf for action. Each sordid scenario seemed to conclude with Fletcher finally losing his shit and eating Flynn, big-bad-wolf style. Could it be he’d have to stage an intervention between the brothers? All he knew for certain was a lurching, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, very much like what Charlotte had described. Even still, as much as he didn’t trust Fletcher’s easy smile, he couldn’t credit either of the brothers with such a Biblical level of mischief.

Hell. They were family.

“Flynn?” he called out, still not catching a hint of his scent. “Where are you?”

Calm footsteps sounded behind him. He turned around and saw Fletcher emerge from between the trees, his frame a dark shadow. As he stepped into the clearing, Bart’s wolf eyes saw he no longer wore his smile.

But he had acquired a gun.

He angled his head to take in the sleek silencer. “Nice piece.”

“Do you like it? I bought it just for you.”

“How thoughtful.”

Fletcher’s low laugh unnerved him. For the first time in a long time, Bart saw the simmering glow of rage in his cousin’s eyes. He hadn’t seen that look since a wolf Fletcher attacked him in his teenaged human form so many years ago. “Did you use the gun on Flynn?”

“Hell, no. He might be
an utter waste of space
, but he is my brother. Not like you.” His cousin took a step toward him.

“So where is he?”

“I sent him home. When it suits my purposes, I’ll reintroduce him to the pack.”

“As Alpha?”

Fletcher’s cold laughter echoed in the woods. “Flynn’s too much of a moron to be Alpha, but he’ll make a good flunkie. No, I’ll be in charge.”

Bart offered him a cynical smile. “So you were just putting on a good show when you bowed and called me
my Alpha
?”

He gritted his teeth. “Just like your dad put on a good show when he came home and informed us our father was dead. Just like your mother put on a good show when she cried at my parents’ funerals. Just like you and Lena and Nate put on good shows when you pretended sympathy and then laughed behind our backs.”

“That did
not
happen. We never laughed at you, nor at Flynn.”

“I saw it myself! Whenever you and Nate joked about girls you wanted to date, I knew you were really laughing at us because the girls wouldn’t look at the sad Cairo boys. Whenever your mom joked with friends about the challenges of keeping a fridge stocked for five shifter kids, I knew she regretted having us in her house.”

“That’s bullshit. You’ve fabricated scenarios that never happened. It’s all in your head, Fletcher.”

Without warning, his cousin smacked himself hard in the head and screamed, “Don’t tell me what’s in my head!”

Bart braced himself and planned his attack. He could put out a telepathic call to the pack, but didn’t want any of them getting in the path of Fletcher’s gun. He had no way of communicating with Lloyd or Connor, his security buddies, as they were different sorts of shifters and not open to receiving his messages. No way in hell was he calling Charlotte. Thank God she was tucked away in his cabin.

No, this was his fight. And the fact he had to battle against a man he’d considered more or less a brother made him sadder than he would have expected to feel. However, seeing the fanatical light in Fletcher’s eyes made him realize his cousin wasn’t the same man he remembered. Perhaps he’d never really been that man. Maybe on some level, they’d all been blind. Perhaps they’d focused so much on Flynn’s obvious resentment that they’d missed Fletcher’s hidden fury.