Chapter 1: A Bad Boy Comes Home

*A/N: This story takes place two weeks after the events of “The Alpha’s Spy Brother Finds a Mate.”*Naomi POV

The whispers. The stares. The snide comments. The cold eyes that named her a traitor.

Naomi Tenebruso slipped quietly into Sinsworth House before dawn to avoid attention, knocking at the kitchen door. Hoisting the freshly killed pig over her strong but feminine shoulder, she nodded thanks when the Alpha’s housekeeper let her into the kitchen. Sarina Lusignan’s eyes were piercing and intelligent.

“An offering for breakfast,” Naomi said, placing the pig on the butcher block.

Sarina nodded and said in a low voice, “He’s upstairs. They brought him in quietly after midnight. I looked in on him and he’s awake. The Alpha and Luna have the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on their door. I expect they didn’t get much sleep. But they’ll be up before long.”

Violet eyes widening in surprise, Naomi could only say, “How is he?”

She meant her lover, Cyran Sinsworth, the most notorious ex-Alpha right now, and definitely one of the most infamous in shifter history. Of course he would have come in under the cover of night, and Alpha Jiro Cresta–his brother-in-law–as well as Cyran’s sister Garnet would have made sure he made it home safely without the pack being the wiser. But how did Sarina know–

Of course. Sarina had been there when the pack fought Cyran and Hades. And housekeepers of any house missed very little.

Sarina handed her a cup of strong coffee. “Here. I think you’re allowed to have this now.”

Naomi sipped the heady bitter beverage with gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs. Lusignan. Yes, I’m no longer on the cleansing diet.”

Sarina shook her head. “Those witches know their business, don’t they? I trust they’ve healed young Master Cyran.”

Naomi had prayed quietly to the Moon Goddess for that very thing ever since she heard Cyran was coming home from being treated by the Witch Circle in Wildefell. She prayed without stopping, hiding her prayers from her own parents.

They’d just think she was brainwashed. Poor, hypnotized Naomi. They didn’t know how gentle or funny or brave Cyran could be. How intelligent. How wonderful he smelled, like a meadow of wildflowers in full bloom, her favorite scent.

All her family saw was the man who kidnapped a pack Luna and started a war with their closest neighbor, the Evenhide Pack, then caused a civil war that nearly destroyed their pack–unfortunately, they were right. But there was so much more to him. Surely Alpha Jiro understood that, even without being related to Cyran by marriage. Otherwise, the new Alpha wouldn’t have welcomed such a notorious rogue that everyone hated.

Shivering, Naomi drank her coffee. Sarina offered, “There’s figgican or Krichinda bread and berry jam if you want any with your coffee.”

“No, thank you.”

Her wolf, Hera, wanted the bread, but Naomi’s stomach revolted at the thought of food. She felt so nervous about seeing Cyran again … and eager. Drawn to him before he’d turned rogue, she still felt the pull … possibly the mate pull if the magic and the madness hadn’t clouded that.

How could she forgive him for pulling her into that madness?

How could she not, after he’d nearly died standing up to Hades, who brutalized him even before he tried to kill Cyran with a Silver Lightning Storm spell?

The bigger question was, how could she have let herself follow the likes of Hades Ombra even seeing what he did to the people he promised to love and care for?

Sarina looked sympathetic, a rare sight for Naomi these days. “Well, it’s here for you later.”

Naomi nodded thanks, finished her coffee, and murmured, “Sarina, would it be disturbing anyone if I went to check on Cyran?”

With a shake of her head, Sarina said, “Not if you’re quiet.”

Her smile suggested that, in fact, she would be pleased if someone who didn’t live in this house cared about Cyran. Naomi smiled in return and went to wash her coffee mug, but Sarina stopped her. Naomi pivoted and headed out of the comfortable, warm kitchen.

On the way she passed Aardwolf, Sarina’s bushy-bearded mate, who greeted her in a polite but warriorlike way. Halfway out the door, she heard Aardwolf’s gruff voice.

“Is the silly girl going to see HIM?”

Sarina hissed at her mate, “What of it, Evenhide?”

“I’m Crimsontail now, and neither part of me likes coddling an enemy of both packs.”

“EITHER part of you should respect our Alpha and Luna. They’re in a terrible position.”

No more of that debate. Naomi stepped into the corridor and admired the polished, gleaming walls of the manor house. It looked like a castle, even though she’d only seen pictures of castles in books.

She often pictured what life might be like outside the pack. Hades had spoken of what life would be like when shifters marched into the castles and took their rightful places instead of cowering inside the pack lands.

But it wasn’t Hades who stood in the square outside this very house weeks ago and heard Alpha Jiro pronounce a sentence no shifter ever wanted to hear.

Exile from the pack.

Naomi deserved it. Her wolf, who had been silent during those terrible weeks, now howled at her forcefully, telling her she’d deserved it.

But that nightmarish day of the riot that earned her the sentence of banishment, Hera had a muzzle. Was it the same for Cyran? She needed to know.

The stairs were full of staff and family, so she headed for the new orc-designed elevator the Alpha and Luna had installed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about traveling in a box of metal, but she didn’t want to face a lot of people and questions.

At the metal door, she pressed a round button with the letters “UP” carved beneath it. She watched as a pointer above the elevator slowly counted down from Cyran’s floor. She pressed her ear to the door and heard the whoosh of air and the cranking of gears.

SCREECH. THUMP.

Naomi stepped back as the doors opened. “Good morning, Alpha.”

She’d have preferred to avoid encountering the rest of the family until she saw Cyran. Still, she needed to show respect.

“Good morning, Miss Tenebruso.” He looked at her seriously. “Going up?”

“Ah …”

He smiled gently. “Sorry, that was an unfair question. The orc engineers told me it’s the custom when you use an elevator, but it seems obvious you’re going up.”

Alpha Jiro Cresta couldn’t match Cyran for sheer magnetism, but he was charismatic, and those vivid turquoise eyes and his dignified, cool demeanor had a certain appeal. Like Luna Garnet did, he gave the impression of being older than he was. He was only twenty–her age. She had to remind herself that, like Cyran, he’d been raised as shifter royalty and third in line to be Alpha for the Evenhide Pack. She’d bet anything he never expected to take over as Crimsontail Alpha, but Cyran had left a mess.

Aware that he waited for a response from her, she offered a tiny smile. “I suppose it’s only polite?”

“That must be it.” He stepped out of the elevator, holding the door open for her. “Have a good day, Miss Tenebruso.”

“You too, sir.”

She hurried inside and studied the vertical row of buttons, then pushed the one for Cyran’s floor. “A wonder,” she said as the doors closed.

She wasn’t just talking about the elevator. Alpha Jiro had spoken to her like a gentleman.

The box shimmied as it shot upward, the metal scraping against the ancient stone. Naomi smelled the steam that powered it. The metal floor rattled under her feet and she prayed to the Moon Goddess to get her safely to the correct floor.

With a jolt, the box stopped and the door slowly slid open. Naomi hurried out and found herself in the hallway with doors to the family’s private quarters. At the end of the long hallway, two doors faced her. They were the most elaborate doors, and she assumed they had to be Cyran’s and the Alpha’s.

She noticed a servant coming out of one of the doors and asked him which room it was–she’d never dared to even set foot on this floor, even when, as teenagers, her girlfriends and sister dared her to.

“Master Cyran’s room.” The servant continued on his way.

He left the door open a crack, and she slipped right inside.

Cyran’s bedroom was high-ceilinged, with a solid wooden door and a wide bed with a soft multicolored bedspread on it. No doubt made from the cloth her sister and brother-in-law wove and sold. Cleansing incense burned on the bedside table, incense from the witches and Wise Woman Roslynn Rossa. Naomi knew that because they’d bathed her in it.

Cyran lay in golden splendor, his large and muscular frame filling the bed, looking innocent in sleep, his sensual lips parted and his sharp, elegant features relaxed … until he grimaced and growled, flailing, probably fighting a nightmare. Her heart ached for him and the mate pull yanked her across the room.

At his bedside, she reached out to stroke his hand. “Cyran, wake up, it’s a dream. Just a dream.”

His hand clamped down on hers, and with a gasp, she flew toward him and landed half on top of him. As most shifters did in everyday life, they went around naked. Right now, that definitely wasn’t to her advantage, because her body remembered the feel of him against her, and her wolf was going crazy.

“Naomi,” he whispered in his sensual voice. “Naomi. I’ve missed you.”

Her name on his lips smashed all her inhibitions. He knew her the way she knew him.

Sensual and smooth, his hands roamed over her back, molding to her body. Instantly, heat flooded her, and despite herself, her lips parted. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but his lips fastened on hers in a sensual, warm, hypnotic kiss.

“Mmmm. My sweet one,” he said in her ear, gently nipping it and lavishing love bites on her.

She didn’t know if he was her fated mate.

Her wolf howled that he always had been and always would be.

She shouldn’t engage in this with him when he’d just arrived.

Her wolf huffed that it was a perfect time, and made her lips part for him so his tongue could invade her mouth and taste her, then help her relearn the taste of him.

Even worse for her, he tasted so much better without that revolting potion Hades convinced them to partake of. He tasted like pure water and sweetness and a hint of spice.

Her wolf wanted him to mark her and for her to give him her mark. None of this love biting stuff.

She dug in her heels and howled back about that one. Her wolf let that one slide, convinced that if Cyran just kept kissing her and thrusting himself against her even with the sheet between them, Naomi would give in eventually … after all, she felt warm and moist between her legs.

Somehow, the sheet was gone, and her naked body filled with bliss as her full breasts and copper-skinned thighs came in contact with Cyran’s chest and thighs. He continued to kiss her and hungrily sought more of the delights of her mouth even as his hand slipped between their bodies and stroked between her legs. She let out a tiny scream of pleasure.

The most ill-timed scream ever.

His eyes flew open, as wide as the coffee mug she’d recently drunk from. His mouth opened in an “O” of horror.

“Naomi! Moon Goddess … we can’t do this!”

He rolled away from her and she fell to one side, lying there in humiliation.