Chapter 20

ELIZABETH'S POV

The room is dark when I open the door and I yawn, wanting nothing but my bed. I turn on the light and I see him sitting there, his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. I stagger back and get ready to attack before I recognize who it is.

“Marcus?” I call and he nods then raises a finger like he is telling me to wait.

“The one and only. How could it be that you have an extremely comfortable sofa? I have been looking for these for ages. You have to tell me who…”

“Were you not taught that it is bad manners to break into someone's home and just…sit there?” I ask him.

“As opposed to what? Breaking in and stealing stuff?”

“As opposed to not breaking in at all!” I say to him. He narrows his eyes like he doesn't fully understand what I am saying then he shrugs and leans back into the sofa.

“I understand, I understand and I am sorry for breaking into your home. I arrived and you weren't around. I thought about the drive back home and didn't want to get into that just yet. I thought about waiting for you on your porch but that wouldn't be very comfortable so I decided to let myself in. I am a marvelous lock picker, by the way. Did you know that?” He asks with a smile.

I don't want to smoke back at him but I can't hold it when my own lips start to widen and I walk up to him and sit down beside him on the sofa. We both stare at the television when he speaks quietly.

“How was your day?”

“It was great. How was yours?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“Killed two men,” he said and sighed heavily. I focus my attention on him and he raises an eyebrow.

“What?” He asks.

“How do you feel about that?” I ask him. He is silent and his brow is furrowed like he is trying to think about how he feels about the entire thing then he shrugs.

“Sometimes I wonder if it is in the nature of my people to be this way. I wonder if bloodshed is the one thing we are good at and when we do not have it for an extended amount of time then…we look for ways to bring it about. If that is our true nature then why don't I feel it?” He asks.

His tone is light but I can feel the heaviness in him as he speaks. His eyes are on the floor and his hands are clasped together on his belly. He tilts his head to the side and then looks at me.

“He was little more than a boy. Late teens, perhaps. Twenty? Maybe. He was definitely younger than Anne and I killed him.”

“You did what you had to,” I say and he shakes his head.

“That is the sort of thing I would tell myself but I wonder if it is the actual truth. I am alpha. I could have had him released. Would my brother and the elders throw a tantrum? Sure but he would still be alive.”

“What about the man he killed? What about their families? He bought his own death. It was a sad situation but you did what is right. Mercy is a good thing but too much of it can be something else entirely.”

He is quiet for such a long time that I begin to doubt that he is still interested in speaking. I begin to notice him, then. Not just his presence in my room but the sweet scent of his cologne, almost feminine, the size of him as he fills the entire space and the strength trapped in that massive body. He places a hand on mine then he speaks again, quietly.

“Would you like to come fishing with me tomorrow?” He asks.

“You fish?” I ask. He shakes his head slowly.

“Jonathan used to take me and Elliot fishing when we were boys. I didn't learn any of it. Wasn't interested at all but I did enjoy sitting down by the riverbank and doing nothing or just sailing along in a boat with enough silence to be able to think, even just a little,” he says.

“You're beautiful,” I say before I can pull the words back in. He looks at me, his eyes searching mine. I want to apologize for what I said but I don't. I said it and he heard it. No apology could take it back and a greater part of me does not want it taken back.

“Thank you,” he whispers. I want to kiss him. Everything fades and it seems to be the only thing that is on my mind. I can suddenly feel how close he is, the warmth of him. He pulls back and stands up. It feels as though a thread is broken and I am left sitting there, looking up at him. He walks to the door.

“Tomorrow, early morning. Don't be late,” he says and nods with a boyish smile. He opens the door, leaves, and it suddenly feels like I can breathe again. Could it be just his Alpha presence or is this something else. I laugh at the ridiculousness of thinking it's something else. I am a fool.

MARCUS'S POV

I open the door and Elliot is standing right there with a phone. His face is quickly becoming my least favorite to see. I stifle the sigh and reach out for the phone. I already know what is there. He hands me the phone and I turn it on. I see Dona's face on the screen. I can see the barely restrained anger and the grief as she looks at me.

“You killed my cousin, Marcus. You killed my cousin, the only family that I have. Yes, he did a stupid thing attacking you but did he deserve to die for it? You now send me a message asking me to come lick your shoes. I won't come. The only courtesy I can extend you is to let this go but if you ask anything else of me then I will make sure I take everything that is yours from your graso and I won't stop until the last family member, the last wolf and every last friend of yours is dead then I will cast you aside to suffer. Come at me and you'll see,” she says.

I hold the phone for a while then I look up at my brother. He is trembling with fury and his fist is clenched.

“What happened to the men you sent?” I ask. I already know the answer.

“They are dead. They were all killed. You have had enough mercy and enough caution. Dona has overreached. This is war. Marcus, they have all but declared war,” Elliot says. I look down at the phone again then start walking up to my quarters.

“Prepare accordingly. Send a message to Simon. I would like to see him as well,” I say.