Keeper of the Alphas - Complete (23 page)

The Phoenix made rising from the ashes of destruction look so
easy.

Cami had burned bridges. With Jayce. With Jenny. With her mother, above all, the dead woman whose opinion she still, irrationally, fretted about constantly. But now, sore between her legs and on her neck and everywhere else Marcus had grabbed her, bruised by his rough affection, Cami felt—for a lack of a better word—
reborn
. Like she’d been possessed by something callous and bitter and bent on revenge and now all that haze was, finally, clearing from her eyes like cataracts.

Marcus had
literally
fucked the crazy out of her.

She felt the heavy rise and fall of each breath as she tucked against his chest. His heartbeat thumped like a war drum. He was wooly, covered in hair like a shag carpet, and she savored it a moment longer, snuggled up in his warmth. Then she pressed a kiss to his chest and got up, padding her way to the bathroom.

Cami stared at herself in the mirror. She was altogether average: blond hair that went past her shoulders; a big-girl hourglass of a body. Cute, round face—she’d always liked her face, at least. She pulled her hair back over her shoulders and saw Marcus’s Mark—a circle of sharp indentations embedded in her skin. She felt a soothing cool wash over her. She felt
claimed.
Finally somewhere she belonged.

“Is it still there?” The rumbling voice spooked her and she squeaked, her hand clutching her chest like an old-school starlet.

“Jesus, Marcus, you scared the crap out of me,” Cami said.

He stepped behind her—fully naked still; she could see his toned, strong body in the mirror. Broad shoulders, small waist, with a wild happy trail that went down, down,
down
. He took the end of her hair, wrapped it around his fist once, and then pressed a small kiss to the bite. “Sorry,” he said, and his stunning blue eyes met hers in the mirror. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “Only a little.”

“Good. The pain will go away, but the Mark is there to stay.”

“Forever?”

He nodded. “Forever.”

She twisted around then so she could really look at him, eye to eye. “Shouldn’t you have something too? Like, a Mark or a ring or—oh! You could get my name tattooed over your chest.
Property of Cami Coltrane
.”

He scowled. “That’s not happening.”

She shrugged and gave one of his chest hairs a little tug. “Worth a shot. Don’t want you getting buyer’s remorse or anything.”

His hands slipped to her shoulders then and his expression softened. “You have me,” he said, firmly. “All of me. Everything I am is devoted to you. It’s my job as your mate to make sure you’re safe and happy.”

As she watched his eyes, she could tell there was nothing but bare sincerity in his words. She leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. “What’s
my
job?” she murmured against his mouth.

“To stand by me,” he told her. “Be faithful to me. And to spread your legs when I tell you to.”

She snorted a laugh against his mouth. “Is that all?”

But even as she put up a fight, she could feel her body losing the battle. The thought of belonging to her insatiable man-beast made her heart rate quicken, blood pumping through her body, making her clit and nether lips swell. She could hear him inhale sharply, no doubt having caught a whiff of her sex. His dick twitched, coming to life, and her mouth watered at the thought of feeling it grow to full height between her lips.

Marcus reached through the shower curtain and twisted the handle, trapping Cami between him and the sink. The shower sprung to life, hissing.

“Get in the shower,” he ordered.

She bit her lip and purred a “Yes, sir.” Maybe she wouldn’t bend so easily later, but right now, with that hungry, predatory look in his eyes, standing in front of her in his full naked glory, she felt a thrill run through her at the idea of playing along with this mated power play.

He stepped back and held the curtain back for her. “Now.”

“Yes, s—eeep!” Cami let out a small noise when he smacked her ass on her way in. She broke into a fit of giggles, scrambling inside the shower and yanking the curtain behind her.

The water was warm and she turned the handle, making it just a little hotter. There, she let it flow down over her and stood under the showerhead, drawing her fingers through her hair. She soaked it through completely and tried to ignore her heartbeat quickening in anticipation.

Then, what felt like hours but was probably only seconds later, she heard the curtain rustle as Marcus stepped in behind her. She grinned as she felt his hand in her hair and then gasped as he used it like a handle to pull her back, flat up against him. He kissed the Mark again and ran his lips down her shoulder, lapping up the water that had collected there. His hand traveled down. She tilted at an angle, her front exposed to the heavy beat of the water, and she closed her eyes, feeling like a hundred fingers were thrumming against her bare skin. Her nipples peaked and she felt the water hit them sporadically, making her swallow wetly.

Marcus’s hand was slow, purposeful, and he reached between her legs, spreading her vaginal lips with his fingers, pinning them apart. Then he pressed a finger inside, curling it. She gasped at the intrusion and tasted water. Her thighs instinctively tightened around his hand but he reminded her sternly, “Keep your legs apart.”

She obeyed, or tried to, locking her knees in place. The result made her whimper as she felt a jet of water hit squarely on her sensitive clit. Her thighs trembled at the onslaught but she stayed in place, even as her whole body vibrated under the sensation. Marcus’s finger wasn’t helping, curling, stroking, pumping slowly—a pace she craved, still aching from last night’s hard fuck.

Every pulse from the jet sent a spike of pleasure through her and made her insides clench tighter and tighter. She whined desperately and felt the water pound hotly against her skin like a wall, making every inch of her overly sensitive.

Oh God
…it was too much, she wasn’t going to last. She felt herself tremble with need, the water hitting her poor clit viciously, and finally gasped, “Marcus…I’m so close…”

“Hold it,” he demanded. And, wickedly, he picked up the pace, twisting his finger, curving it right there—
oh God, right there
—stroking mercilessly.

Cami couldn’t stop her legs from clamping around his hand now and she cried out, her body twisting, writhing on the knife’s edge of orgasm. Every time she stopped herself from going over the edge, his finger just hit that spot again, keeping her right there, making it harder and harder to keep her sanity intact—

Finally, he yanked his finger out of her and pulled his hand back. The emptiness was unbearable, her body still pulsing on that tight edge, and Cami whimpered, collapsing over, her palms pressed against the wall to hold herself upright. Her head hung low and her hips rolled against empty air, desperately, desperate for anything.

He was sadistic, but he wasn’t cruel. He filled her need almost instantly as he pressed inside of her. Cami gasped when she felt his size and moaned, pushing her hips back for more. She was spun so tightly—water beating hard down her back, Marcus’s hips beating hard against her rear—that it was all she could do to whimper, “
Please
.”

“Cum for me,” he growled.

That was all it took. She heard his name leave her lips as her body clenched and unclenched, throbbing tightly, deliciously, around him. He gave her a few more hard thrusts—not quite
there
yet—and she braced herself against the wall as she took it, drawing out her own orgasm. She finally felt him shudder as he spilled over inside of her with a grunt. His arm hooked around her chest, like a seatbelt, holding her up, and she collapsed completely in his embrace. He pressed a kiss to her neck and she felt the water drip from his body onto hers as she caught her breath.

“How do you feel?” he finally asked.

She smiled over her shoulder and said, “Like I made the right choice.” He looked pleased by that answer and rewarded her with a deep, sweet kiss.

“Time to get out,” he said and then pulled off (and out) of her.

“I’ll be there in just a sec,” she added.

His lifted his eyebrows. “Don’t get pruny.” He stepped out of the shower, leaving her to it.

Cami felt the hot water coax away her stress. She imagined every negative feeling she had boxed up inside of her dripping off of her and swirling down the drain. Her orgasm made her giddy, reenergized, and she felt…
inspired
.

She came down nearly two hours later. She could smell breakfast but couldn’t see it; he’d probably tucked it away in the oven to keep it warm. He was sitting at the kitchen table, chest bare, wearing only loose sweatpants as he carved a small owl figurine out of a chunk of wood. He’d already shaped the body and now he was detailing it with half-moon slivers on the wings, leaving wood shavings on the table.

“Run out of hot—? Oh.” Marcus spotted Cami and froze.

“Well?” she asked, tossing her hair back. “Do you like it?”

“It’s…red” was all he could get out.

Not
entirely
red. She’d just dyed the bottom layer so it poked out in places like a shadow. Cami, of course, looked
thrilled
, her enthusiasm enough for the both of them. “It’s
walnut red-brown
, thank you very much,” she announced, pulling it over her shoulders.

Her mood dampened slightly when she saw an indentation on the couch, the quilt jumbled up at the foot of it. Marcus followed her line of vision and filled in the blanks. “Jayce came back last night. After you fell asleep. I let him have the couch.”

“Oh.” Weird, too weird, to think of Marcus politely playing host for Jayce. Maybe the Mark had realigned him too. After all, what threat was Jayce when Cami wore
his
brand? “Where’d he go?”

“Nowhere,” Marcus said. “He’s outside working on his car.” Marcus looked back at his owl and continued chiseling out the wings. “I don’t know what he expects from it, short of a miracle.”

A stab of guilt there. Jayce had deserved her anger, but not
that
. She knew what the Camaro meant to him. She wanted to lock the feeling away, ignore it, but she knew she was beyond that. It was like Jenny said. If she was going to be Keeper, she had to let herself
feel
everything.

Jenny
. Add her to the list of reparations.

“He’s talented,” Cami defended. “If anyone can fix it, he can.”

Marcus shot her a look. So maybe he and Jayce had more of an
amicable stalemate
than a truce. Better to avoid picking that scab. “Do you want breakfast?” he asked, changing the topic.

“Yeah. I’ll be right back.” Cami snatched up Marcus’s sheepskin coat and stuck her feet in boots by the door. She pulled the coat over her burgundy dress before trudging out into the brisk morning cold.

Jayce wasn’t hard to find. In the light of day, she could see the extent of the damage she’d done. The black body of the Camaro was charred, frame exposed and warped in places. The wheels lay discarded on the side, rubber melted. The once proud Camaro was now propped up on cinderblocks.

She spotted Jayce’s legs sticking out from underneath the car. She stepped over to him, arms folded over her chest, and cleared her throat. “Hey.”

Jayce slid out from under the car, wrench in hand. He wore last night’s clothes and black grease smudges. “What’s up?” he asked. Even with the familiar candor in his voice, there was a coldness there that made a chill run through her. Jayce had put up a wall between the two of them and she couldn’t blame him. It was something she would’ve done too.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

He got up to his feet, dried leaves sticking to his back. His hair was growing out; it curled around his ears now. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Look…I get that Jenny mindfucked you last night. Literally. And that doesn’t excuse it, but I
get
it. I was pissed and I had every right to be angry with you, but I shouldn’t have…eye-for-an-eyed you.” Jayce just stood there, watching her, so she said, “It was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

After a moment’s silence, he said, “Okay.”

“That’s it?” she blurted out. “Just…okay?”

He shrugged. He looked exhausted. “What do you want me to say, Cami? I’m…glad you acknowledge that. I do. And I’m sorry for everything that happened last night. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, and it kills me that I did.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking away. “I’m weak right now. I could blame it on the wolf but the truth is, I’ve been in a tailspin since long before you came into town. All my life, maybe. Which is why I’ve got to put some distance between us. Just until I sort this out. Otherwise, I’m going to end up hurting you again.” His eyes looked pained when he said, “I suggest you do the same. That anger I saw last night…that’s not healthy.”

A knot twisted up her throat. Cami drew her arms tighter around her chest. “Stay with us, at least. The couch is yours.”

He gave a small nod. His eyes looked grateful. “Thank you.”

“Okay. Well. Breakfast is on the table if you want it.”

“I’m fine.” Tight, lying smile. Distance.

“Alright. See you.” She turned to leave. The last thing she wanted was to have some kind of breakdown in front of him.

“Cami.” The softness in his voice made her turn. He gave a small smile. “I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” she said, and self-consciously twisted her fist around it.

Jayce’s expression changed. Then she followed his eyes…directly to the Mark on the side of her neck. Her mouth went dry, and she said, “I should—”

“Yep.” Jayce turned briskly and grabbed the wrench, going back to work as Cami scurried inside, cheeks flushed.

It was cold outside and after her conversation with Jayce, she felt chilled from the inside out. She lifted a hand and flicked it towards the fireplace—the logs
whooshed
and then crackled, simmering down to a tamed fire. She hung up her coat, stepped out of her shoes, and stepped behind Marcus, throwing her arms around his bare shoulders.

His owl had beady little eyes now. “Cute,” she said.

“How did it go?” he grumbled.

“Jayce has commandeered the couch for a little bit.”

“Mm.”

She rustled his hair. “Can I cut this?”

He pointed to her plate at the table. “Eat.”

She sat down obediently and picked up her fork. Scrambled eggs, toast, sausage. She dug in and the conversation stalled.

“You liked my mom, right?” Cami said between bites.

Marcus looked up. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to pick a fight.”

“I’m not,” she insisted. “I’m seriously asking. I’m not going to be mad if you say yes.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he was rarely censored so he said, “Yes.”

“Why?” A genuine question.

Marcus exhaled audibly. “Because,” he started, “she was a good Keeper. Fair. She protected those that wanted to be protected. If you were in her protection, you never had to worry about the hunters. She kept a civil relationship with them, too. Took care of the sick. Listened to our concerns without judgment. She didn’t try to tame us or control us, though many submitted willingly to her.”

“Like you.”

A nod from Marcus.

“Too bad I didn’t have a tail. Maybe we would’ve gotten along better.”

A stern look from Marcus.
Right.
That forgiving and forgetting thing was harder than it looked. Cami sighed and added, “It’s just…hard. I only knew one side of her.”

“She was a good Keeper,” Marcus said, gently. “And you have every reason to want to emulate that.”

Cami’s head shot up sharply. “Who said I—?”

Marcus lifted his eyebrows.

Cami frowned and poked at her eggs with her fork. “I’m going to stop by Aunt Sadie’s. Try to get some more training in.”

Now it was Marcus’s turn to look uncomfortable. “What is it?” Cami asked.

His eyes met hers. “I’ve smelled him on my patrols. Aldric. Whatever you’re planning…just know that he’s getting bolder by the day.”

Cami glanced down at her plate and lapsed into thought. “See if you can figure out where he’s hiding,” Cami said. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Alright.”

Cami swallowed down the rest of her food and then stood up. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you for breakfast.”

He curled his fingers around her chin. “Stay safe.”

She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

He kissed her firmly and then released her. She grabbed the keys for the pickup and left.