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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
GUNNAR
Istood outside looking toward the woods. The morning sun broke through the trees, catching on leaves still wet with dew. Somewhere out there was the spot where I'd caught my wife last night and she'd confessed her love. My mouth curved at the memory. My balls were on E. My dick was happily limp, having spent the night tucked snugly between my wife's lush ass cheeks.
The door opened behind me, breaking me out of my dirty thoughts of my sweet wife. Dad stepped outside, his face a mask of determination. There were six families trying to figure out what the fuck had happened to them, a police department that had arrested his wife, a Lobo Alpha who'd decided blackmailing her own daughter was appropriate parenting, and enough cleanup ahead of us to keep us all on the prowl for the next six months.
"I've watched you these last few days, Gunnar. You knew something was wrong before the rest of us did."
I shrugged, scanning the perimeter for threats. Once upon a time, I wouldn't have considered it possible for anyone to get this close to my family. But I had walked in a very formidable opponent through the front door.
"You figured out what Rosalind was up to before anyone else in this house even suspected a thing. Instead of throwing her to the wolves—instead of letting this pack tear her apart for lying—you handled it. You kept her safe, you brought her clean into the family fold, and you made sure everyone in that room knew she was untouchable."
I stared at him, the old, familiar knot in my chest loosening. All my life, I’d been the Blackwood weapon. The brute. The heavy hands that were called when someone needed to be broken, bled, or buried. I was the fighter, not the thinker.
"You used your head. You showed restraint, strategy, and compassion. You protected this family by protecting your wife. I've always known you could fight, Gunnar. Last night, you proved something I always knew about you: you can lead. I am proud of you, son. Incredibly proud."
The words slipped straight through my guard and found a raw injury. Like fingers pressing along a bone until they found the fracture, and pain lit up every nerve around it. My dad didn't just value my fists. He saw me.
The door creaked open behind me, breaking the quiet spell. Magnus and Vidar strolled out.
"You three take the car. Go find those cops who laid hands on your mother during the raid and have a conversation with them. Make sure they understand the way of things moving forward."
"With pleasure," Magnus said.
Dad nodded once, clapped me on the back, then turned on his heel and walked back into the main house.
The cool morning air hit my face as I fell into step behind my brothers. We walked up to the black SUV. Vidar pulled open the driver's door, but as he tilted the front seat forward, he stopped cold. Huddled in the tiny space behind the back row was Ivar, his knees pulled up to his chest, his eyes wide and dark in the dim interior light.
"Absolutely not," Vidar snapped, shaking his head and reaching in to grab Ivar by the collar of his shirt. "Go back inside."
"Wait," I said, stepping up and clapping a heavy hand on Vidar's shoulder, stopping him.
Vidar frowned, looking back at me. "He's sixteen."
I looked down at my baby brother. Ivar didn’t look scared. He looked like a kid standing in the shadow of three older brothers, trying to figure out where he fit. Magnus was going to lead the pack. Vidar was the smartest bastard in nearly every room he walked into. And I’d spent most of my life knowing exactly what the family needed me to be.
Ivar was still waiting to find out what we needed him to be.
Worse, he was looking to us to tell him.
I knew what happened when the people you loved answered that question by listing all the things you couldn’t do. You started believing them. Eventually, their limits became yours.
I was only just figuring out how deep that scar went. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch us cut the same one into my little brother.
"He's coming," I said, my voice absolute. "Ivar needs to learn how we protect our own."
Ivar failed to smuther the grin on his face as he nodded enthusiastically. Vidar sighed, rolling his eyes, but he let go of the kid's shirt and climbed into the driver's seat. Magnus slid into the passenger side. I climbed into the back, sitting beside Ivar.
Vidar hit the engine, the heavy V8 roaring to life, and we pulled out of the driveway to take care of family business.
CHAPTER FIFTY
ROSALIND
Iwas going to die in a car driven by my mother-in-law.
Not at the hands of one of the other packs. Not because one of the many criminal organizations I’d spent years systematically fucking with finally figured out who I was. Not even because my own mother decided she'd had enough of my betrayal.
