Brand of the Pack - Tera Shanley Page 0,20

torches were posted at every corner, casting glowing shadows across everyone’s faces. The murmur of conversation battled the cicadas that sang their evening song.

Lana crawled into his lap, and he adjusted her onto his leg without losing a step in his conversation. Mom’s face lit up, and Morgan swelled with pride.

“I love that you have taken responsibility for your sister as well, Greyson,” she told him. Her words nearly hummed with approval as they spilled from her smiling lips.

Grey coughed and Morgan leaned forward. “Yes, Marissa is adjusting so well to the new house,” she clarified before he asked what sister.

Recovering, he ruffled Marissa’s hair. “She’s a pretty good kid most of the time.”

The kid he spoke of rolled her eyes and stabbed another slab of brisket into her pie hole. “Please. I’m the best little sister you could have ever hoped for.”

The change in Grey was immediate. He was smiling, laughing, and charming one moment, and the next, he looked dangerous with his focus trained on the road. Just that flick of his attention did something awful to her insides. Dread slammed into her as the others turned toward the driveway one by one. Then she heard it as well. A car engine. Morgan couldn’t look away from her mate’s unabridged focus. He was frozen like a sculpture of a battle ready warrior in some lovely garden.

As the conversation stalled, Mom frowned and looked from face to face.

Dean threw Grey a loaded look. Morgan’s heart pounded as Grey slid his hand across her thigh. Time to move.

“Hannah,” Rachel said. “Have you had a tour of the entire house yet?”

She looked baffled but took the bait well enough. “No. I’ve only seen the kitchen and living area.”

“I think I need to take Lana in anyway. The mosquitoes are getting bad,” Morgan said, swatting at an imaginary bug. “They’re eating me alive.”

Brent, the Dallas pack’s most submissive wolf, plucked Lana skillfully out of Grey’s lap and said, “Come on baby girl. Let’s go show grandma what you’ve been drawing.”

Grey nodded his thanks and set his gaze back on the road.

When most had gone back inside, Morgan clenched and unclenched her hands to calm her panic. “This was supposed to be a good night. I just wanted to relax with everyone.” How idiotic that she had started to think it would go off without a hitch.

“It’ll be okay. After tomorrow we won’t have to deal with these anymore.” He squeezed her hand as she stood.

“Come back to me in one piece,” she said, kissing him and squeezing his shoulder as she headed for the front door.

Unable to help herself, she turned before she went inside. She had to see the wolf he would fight.

The man who stepped from the driver’s side of the silver sedan wasn’t anything like Rodrigo. His manner of speech wasn’t formal or polite as the first challenger’s had been. He was huge. Where many wolves were built lean, this man had layers of muscle packed on. An enforcer. His head was shaved, and he wore a tight button-down shirt that accentuated his mass. If he had dressed for intimidation, it worked on her. The lines on his face suggested he never smiled, or if he did, it was only a grimace. Her gaze swung from her tall, lithe fiancé to the bulldog by the car. Three of his pack flanked him, all smaller than their alpha, but all scary in their own right. These men would visit her nightmares.

The challenger’s dark, bottomless eyes found her. “Silver Wolf—”

“Don’t. I really don’t care about anything you have to say. I am right where I want to be, and obviously, you aren’t my type.”

She stepped into the house, and when the door snicked closed behind her, she pressed her back against it. The man’s angry, muttered words drifted to her but she didn’t care enough to decipher what he had said. She was too busy trying to keep herself from falling into a million pieces. Grey had to fight him?

“Honey, are you all right?” Mom asked. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. I’m just nervous about everything going well tomorrow, that’s all. It’s been a long week, and I guess it’s catching up with me.”

Raised voices carried through the walls so she led her mom toward the kitchen. If they got much louder, human ears would be able to hear them.

“Did Rachel show you the wedding cake? It’s in the refrigerator. She baked it today.”

The kitchen was a mix of log cabin meets modern