The Deputy and His Enforcer (Kincaid Pack #3) - Kiki Clark Page 0,112

didn’t you ever tell me?”

Robson cupped his face and pulled him close for a kiss. “Because you’ve had enough on your plate without me complaining when I don’t even know what I want to do instead.”

“Robito,” he murmured, pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. “That’s not how being mates works. You have to tell me your stuff, not just listen to mine.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, cariño.” He tugged Marcus back down to his throat, letting him burrow close for comfort.

They lay together quietly for several moments, then Marcus heard Rick approaching the curtained bay, so he forced himself to sit up a little. Though he couldn’t make himself completely leave the reassuring warmth of his mate’s arms.

“May I come in?” Rick asked from just outside the curtain.

He waited until Robson nodded okay before giving Rick permission to enter. Slipping in, Rick quickly ran his eyes over Robson’s injured arm, jaw tight.

“I spoke with one of the pack nurses on duty, and she said she’d come do your stitches shortly, then get you discharged.” Rick waved off Robson’s thanks and just kept going. “Tomorrow, I’d like you to put in your notice with the sheriff’s department.”

Marcus jerked in surprise and felt Robson tense too. They exchanged glances, and then Robson said, “Listen, Rick, I appreciate what you did to get me out of here quicker, but I can’t just—”

“I’m going to hire you.”

Robson’s mouth snapped shut with a clack.

“What do you mean?” Marcus asked.

“I mean,” Rick said slowly, “that my father will gather as many allies as he can, and then he’ll come after us.”

Marcus looked between them as Robson met Rick’s stare head-on, face grim. “You think the pack is going to be going to war with the Council.”

Nodding once, Rick turned to leave, pausing at the curtain and glancing back at them, eyes glowing. “I think it very well might be inevitable. And if I’m right, I want someone with your tactical experience by my side.”

Robson dipped his chin in acknowledgement, jaw set and arm tightening around Marcus. An understanding passed between them, one that not even Marcus could fully grasp.

One thing he knew for certain—both his mate and his alpha would do whatever it took to protect their pack.

Goddess help anyone who stood in their way.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Turned out, being bonded to a shifter had some additional perks.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Doc said as he finished removing Robson’s stitches two days after his injury. Two. Days. “The graze was deep enough to require stitches, yet it’s already healed. Did you know this would happen?”

That question was aimed at the slim man standing in the corner of the exam room, seeming like he hoped he’d disappear into the drywall if he pressed back hard enough. Which… Robson wasn’t a hundred percent sure the man couldn’t do it. Magic was weird.

“Um, no. Well,” Damien quickly added when Doc raised his brows at him as he sat back from where he’d been studying Robson’s mostly healed skin. “I had several theories about additional benefits or side effects the bonding herbs could have. Hypothetically.”

“And you didn’t think those were relevant to share with the guys you gave them to?” Robson asked, slipping his T-shirt back on.

“I honestly didn’t think it was likely you’d receive enough magic from Marcus during your bonding bites for it to really make a difference,” Damien said, holding his hands up like he was pleading his case, hoping not to get the shit beat out of him. “Really. They were untested hypotheses. More fanciful ideas than anything else.”

Rolling his eyes, Robson hopped down from the exam table. “Any other side effects I should know about?” He shot Doc a worried look. “Am I going to start flashing my eyes when I get mad or… anything?”

Or grow a knot suddenly.

Doc smirked and crossed his arms over his huge chest, rolling his stool back and forth a little like he knew exactly what Robson wasn’t asking. “Your bloodwork came back fine. I doubt you’ll have any physiological changes beyond the advanced healing, and that might fade over time.”

Relieved, he nodded in thanks and headed for the door, shooting Damien an annoyed look. It wasn’t that he was mad about being able to heal faster than before—he just didn’t get why the young guy was so damn close-lipped about so many things.

“I’m sorry,” Damien whispered, dropping his eyes to the floor.

Sighing, he rubbed at his face, then hesitated with the door partially open. “It’s… Well, it’s not fine, but