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Jared (River Pack Wolves 3)(25)

By:Alisa Woods


Shit. He was driving her away—too much, too soon. And just like in the meadow, the image of her retreating back—her fleeing away from him—surged up the need to go after her. Knowing he was causing her this pain, while the same time knowing that it had to be done… it was opening the fissures inside him again.

She pounded down the stairs. He grimaced, hesitated, then went after her, cursing himself for handling the whole thing so badly.

She pushed her way through the crowd. The haters made space for the pretty Senator’s daughter, and she left mystified looks in her wake. Jared trudged after her, calculating where he could corner her and explain. Or maybe backpedal. Soften it somehow. This had to be hard for her, and he had to find a way to make it work. To bring her over to his side. Because the alternative was worse than anything she was feeling right now.

When she reached the side door, a man in a hoodie who was lounging against the wall suddenly grabbed her and wrapped his arm around her neck to hold her firm against his chest.

Shock rippled through Jared, and he nearly shifted… but he managed to keep it under control and sprinted toward the man instead. A scream went up near the main door, and movement burst through the hall—a whole group of these hooded men sprung to life and fanned out into the crowd. They were large and hulking—too oversized to be casual hatemongers. Were these shifters? What the hell were they doing? Jared growled, cursing whatever was about to go down, but his focus stayed on Grace and the man holding her. She was terrified, clawing her hands at the man’s arm around her throat. Jared had to push his way through the now-panicked crowd.

The hooded man wasn’t choking her, just holding her and forcing her to watch whatever was going down, but it made Jared want to rip off his face. He finally pushed past the last of the attendees and lunged up to them, plowing his fist to the guy’s nose. The shock of it, and the crunch of the man’s nose breaking under his knuckles, made Grace scream and the man’s grip on her slacken. He slumped to the ground. Jared gathered Grace into his arms, protectively, and her small body melted against his chest. He turned her away from the crowd and trapped her body against the wall, covering her with his bulk before finally twisting around to see what else was happening.

His heart thudded, as he quickly took in the scene—the hooded men were shouting, intimidating the crowd, and shoving people to the floor, but the only blood he saw was on the man’s face at his feet. The mayhem was distracting everyone from the one guy who was moving toward the front. He had something in his hands, and for a moment Jared thought it was a bomb—but then the man shook it and started spraying the wall behind the podium. It was a gang symbol—a shifter gang Jared recognized—and the words, we’re watching you.

What the hell?

The man let out a whistle, and the rest scattered, making for the exits. One stopped to hoist up the bloodied man at Jared’s feet—he was dazed but not completely knocked out. Jared stared long and hard at their faces as they hurried out the doors and into the Seattle afternoon sun.

He had no idea who they were, but he was damn sure they weren’t shifters. And he wasn’t at all surprised when the Senator took the podium again.

“Everyone please remain calm and see if anyone around you is hurt. The shifter gang appears to have left, although their message is clear. But we will not be intimidated by lawlessness and violence! I promise you, we will find who is responsible for this.”

Jared snarled. This was an obvious setup to anyone with eyes to see, but there was no one in the room who would dispute it. The gang whose symbol was dripping paint would be blamed—even though that made no sense at all for a gang to come here and tag up the place. But the Senator would use it as leverage to whip his troops into a frenzy. And get voters to the polls.

Grace was shaking in his arms. He instinctively pulled her closer and pressed her head against his chest. Her gulping breaths slowly calmed.

“You’re okay, Grace. I’ve got you.” She nodded against his chest. That feeling of her moving against him, of her accepting his desire to protect her, surged his wolf twice as strong as before. He wanted nothing more than to haul her away from this place and never return. She needed to be gone from all of this, and he needed to have her, like this, in his arms.

And more.

That urge—that need for her—stunned him so badly, he actually loosened his grip and took a step back.

She looked at him with wide eyes.

He still held her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked, wanting to draw her back, but not daring to do it. He would end up kissing her. And then everything would come apart inside him.