Jared (River Pack Wolves 3)(26)

She nodded quickly, and the color seemed to be returning to her face. She smoothed out her blouse and tucked it back into her skirt. She gave him a nod, then turned toward the podium where her father was still reassuring the crowd.

Jared needed to get her alone. Soon. He told himself it was just to talk, to convince her to leave. With him. But he knew it was more than that.

This desire for her felt dangerous, like he was on the edge of a precipice about to fall.

And he wanted to fall… all the way down.

Which surprised him most of all.





Grace’s hands had stopped their shaking, but she was still quivering inside.

Jared drove her father’s black sedan through the winding mountain roads toward her father’s estate. He sat in front, eyes on the road, as she rode in back, watching the beloved forest of her youth slip by—a steady, vision-blurring stream of green pine needles, woody trunks, and leafy undergrowth. Her body buzzed along with the whizzing scenery, numbed by the events at the rally.

So much had gone down in such a short period of time, it was like her body was in shock. Her mind, on the other hand, was going a million miles an hour. Her father’s legislation—the one she had been fighting for months—was tapping into the fears of a rabid set of people. Their hate-filled faces; their palpable anger; these were her father’s foot soldiers. His voters. These were the people who would cheer on his attempt to criminalize a whole swath of people.

People like her.

At the beginning of the rally, as the hall had filled to capacity, a sickening dread had trickled through her like ice water in her veins—it was a raw fear that somehow she would be discovered. That this horde of angry people would realize what she was. It was a personal fear, one for her own safety, even her life. One she hadn’t felt before… ever. She watched Jared’s stone-cold face turn into something even more hard and bitter—he wasn’t afraid, but she could see the flickers of anger below that inscrutable, chiseled expression. He’d known exactly who these people were and what they were capable of… and yet he stood by her side, unafraid to face them, so he could appeal to her and try to convince her that she should fight them.

Her fear had made her ashamed. Eventually, the disgust rose up to push the fear and shame aside, especially with Nolan’s obvious pandering. He would use these people and their anger just like her father would—to keep his job and increase his power. All along, Grace thought they were all driven by the same thing—a sense of justice. A desire to make the world a better place for the people living in it. That kind of power was invigorating, to be sure, but only because it was the power to do good in the world. But what seethed in that hall was the opposite—that hatred was the raw fuel for political power, and it would drive her father’s ascendancy in the world, along with all his minions, including Nolan.

Grace wanted to believe she would have still seen the wrongness of it, even if she wasn’t a shifter herself… but she wasn’t entirely sure. Nolan seemed to know it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from following her father, wading into the crowd to glad-hand and win more votes. It was Nolan’s easy acceptance of all of it that had shocked her the most. Then Jared’s blazing words about some kind of government experiments on shifters, then the attack… and suddenly her shock had gone into overdrive, leaving her in this buzzed state as Jared whisked her from the rally, stuffing her in the sedan and hurrying them away. She hadn’t even asked where they were going, but she quickly realized he was taking her home… only it didn’t feel like home any longer.

It felt like a place she no longer fit.

Jared pulled the car up to the front door of the estate. She fumbled with the car door handle, but she couldn’t seem to get it to work. Her hands were still shaking after all. Jared hurried around to open her door. His hand clasped hers, enveloping it in his hot-skinned touch… even the look in his eyes had warmed from before, at the rally. He grasped hold of her arm to keep her steady, and she almost protested, but his calm command, guiding her toward the house and making sure she was steady on her feet, was settling the shaking in her hands, so she didn’t. Jared exchanged a rapid-yet-silent communication with Richard, the guard on duty—he took the car while Jared escorted her inside.

It made her feel cared for in a way that cleared her mind.

She and Jared needed to talk.

His large form hovered, strong but gentle, next to hers as he ushered her through the house.

“Do you need something to drink or eat?” he asked quietly as they passed the kitchen.

“No.” Her voice still had a tremble in it. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. They kept going past the kitchen, and it was clear he was steering her toward her bedroom—which flushed her face with heat as she thought of the things she’d fantasized about doing there with him. None of which was appropriate at the moment.