Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
It had never mattered much to her before—beyond general annoyance anyway—because she’d never really cared for any of them. But Marcus . . . it would matter with him. She didn’t want to hurt him and didn’t want him to look at her the way her mother looked at her—like she lacked, like she wasn’t good enough. Even the idea of it made her want to hold back.
But to do that to protect herself would be cowardly, wouldn’t it? Cowardly and selfish, and she’d like to think she was neither of those things.
It would be unfair to him, because he’d never given her any reason to believe that he thought that about her. He never seemed to be judging her or laughing at her. Her quirks didn’t seem to bother him, nor did the fact that she wasn’t girly. And although he defended her, he didn’t do it in a way that suggested he was “the boss” or that he didn’t see her as his equal. In fact, it actually annoyed him when people dismissed her strength.
Damn the asshole for making himself matter to her. But did he matter enough to publicly stake a temporary claim on him in return? Matter enough that she had to know if a relationship between them would be doomed or not?
She feared that, yeah, he actually might.
Getting to his feet, Nick spat blood on the ground. “You’ll pay for that, Fuller.”
“You ran face-first into my elbow—what did you think would happen?” Marcus’s wolf bared his teeth in a feral grin, liking the sight of the Alpha hurt. He also liked the sight of Zander’s broken nose—super fast or not, the guy couldn’t escape a male wolf who suspected he had a thing for his female.
It had quickly become apparent that the “friendly game of football” had merely been an excuse to launch balls at Marcus’s head, constantly tackle him to the ground, and for every male there to pile on top of him in what appeared to be an effort to crush him to death.
He was covered in bruises and bumps and gashes, had pain radiating from the shoulder that he’d minutes ago popped back into place, and was pretty sure some of his ribs were broken. Also, he’d almost passed out twice. Clearly they were hoping he’d have “special needs” by the time this was over.
Nick arched a brow. “You sure you don’t want to run along home?”
“You sure you don’t want to accept my place in your sister’s life?”
“Roni can do better.”
“So can Shaya.”
Nick actually smiled. “You’re right, she can. But she’s mine.”
“And Roni’s mine.” Marcus briefly slid his gaze to Zander as he said it, who raised a brow, seemingly amused.
“I’ll admit you have balls—there aren’t many guys who’d willingly take on my sister.”
Panting and using the back of his hand to wipe away the blood dripping from a huge gash above his brow, Derren nodded. “But he’s clearly tougher than we gave him credit for. You’ve got a skull like granite, Fuller.” Well, he’d know, since he tried to head-butt Marcus and it kind of backfired—the idiot almost knocked himself out.
Flexing and cradling his jaw, Eli nodded his agreement. “He’s got a fist like granite too.”
“I’ll bet everything I own that Roni’s right hook is better,” said Marcus.
Eli laughed. “I can assure you from past experience, it is.”
“He’s starting to come around!” shouted a badly bruised Kent from where he squatted beside a moaning Caleb. The guy had been out cold since the ball collided with his head, thanks to a solid throw from Marcus.
Zander popped his nose back into place. “I say we call it quits. Roni will kill us if we rough him up any more than this.”
“Yeah. I’d rather not have salt in my coffee again.” Eli shuddered.
Derren looked at Nick. “What do you say? Truce?”
All the Mercury wolves turned to their Alpha. Nick was staring at Marcus studiously. “If you hurt even a single hair on her head—”
“Haven’t we been over this already?” Marcus sighed. “You’d have to get through Roni to get to me, and I’m pretty sure I’d be dead by that point. At best, you can hope to play football with my severed head.”
A smile curved Nick’s mouth. “I can work with that.”
CHAPTER NINE
Should he have found it kind of endearing that Roni seemed caught in her worst nightmare simply because a stranger was talking to her? Probably not, but Marcus did.
He’d arrived home twenty minutes ago to find that the party was in full swing—a mix of the Phoenix wolves, the Mercury wolves, and some of Grace’s relations from her childhood pack.
After taking a shower to wash off the mud, blood, and grime from the “friendly game of football,” he’d pulled on some clothes and headed to the living area. Now he was leaning against the doorway, smiling to himself as one of Grace’s relations chatted on and on about designer shoes to a clearly uncomfortable Roni.