“It could have been worse, wife. I could have told you about the ghost living in your closet,” Trace said, sighing heavily as she went still.
That was followed by her shoving the blankets aside
, jumping off the bed, turning every light on in the room and in the bathroom only to turn on the television with the hopes of blocking out any unwanted noises during the night, and grabbing a blanket off the bed, shoving the jerk in the corner and glaring at him until he reluctantly sat down with a sigh.
Once he was settled, she sat down on the floor between his legs, threw the blanket over both of them and then pulled it over her head with a, “Jerk.”
She would have dragged him over to the bed and made him guard her all night while she cowered beneath the blankets, but she knew that he didn’t like the bed. She had a feeling that it had something to do with that tomb. He was used to sleeping on hard surfaces and it was going to take some time before he was comfortable doing anything else.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, even as he wrapped his arms around her.
“You should have thought about that before,” she pointed out as she shifted to get comfortable and closed her eyes, fully prepared to ignore him for the rest of the night.
“Apologies, wife,” he said, using that sexy voice that she liked so damn much and taking her irritation to a whole new level.
Shoving her blanket away, she glared up at the large bastard and said, “Rot in hell,” before pulling the blanket back over her head as he chuckled while she laid there, pretending that she didn’t love the way that he held her or that she was happy to be back in his arms.
*-*-*-*
This was a mistake.
But even knowing that, Trace couldn’t make himself let her go. For the past two weeks, he’d been forcing himself to keep his hands off her, forcing himself to stay away from her at night, pretending that he didn’t want her, didn’t need her, and-
Found himself looking up at the large man that had somehow managed to take him by surprise.
“Get your fucking hands off my sister,” the large man with the coldest glare that Trace had ever seen said evenly as he leveled his weapon at Trace’s head.
“Nathan?” his wife mumbled as she blinked up at the large man only to shove the blankets aside with a broken sob and climbed to her feet.
In seconds that cold glare was replaced with a warm smile as Nathan put his weapon away so that he could pull Samantha into his arms. Trace watched as Samantha wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him tightly as he pressed a kiss against her forehead with a, “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“How did you find me?” Samantha asked the question that Trace was wondering as he stood up, taking in the large man in front of him, noting that his hair was a touch darker than his sisters, his brown eyes matched hers, and that’s where the similarities ended, Trace thought as he scented the air and-
“Sentinel,” Trace said, the word was ripped from his lips on a growl as he reached past Samantha and grabbed the large bastard by the neck and slammed him into the wall.
“Trace, don’t!” Samantha cried as Trace tightened his hold around the Sentinel’s neck as everything went red while he allowed his fangs to slide down and-
“Shit!” the Sentinel managed to get out on a grunt as Trace slammed him into the wall, causing it to crack. The dog barked as it tried to get between them only to stop when Trace released a warning growl.
“You left her unprotected,” Trace snapped, ready to tear the Sentinel’s throat out.
When he’d thought her brother was human, Trace had simply dismissed him as pathetic, thinking that he’d abandoned his sister to save his own ass only to realize that none of this would have ever happened if her brother had been here doing his job. That overly sweet scent that his father had warned him about told Trace everything that he needed to know. The Pack never would have come near this town if he had been here. They never would have gone into that house and put their hands on her if he had been here to protect his sister.
“I-” her brother started to explain only to be cut off with a pained grunt as Trace pulled him forward and slammed him back against the wall.
“Do you have any idea what they could have done to her?” Another slam. “Do you?” He pulled him forward again and-
“S-stop!” came the frightened plea that Trace ignored as he shifted his focus beyond this room, listening for another heartbeat and the telltale scent of another Sentinel only there was nothing.
“Where is she?” Trace demanded, tightening his hold around the Sentinel’s throat as he reached down and yanked his shirt up, exposing the small cross and crescent moon birthmark that identified him as a Sentinel.
He found himself looking back up into a pair of cold brown eyes as the Sentinel bit out, “Don’t,” before Trace glanced back down at the light brown mark, letting Trace know that the Sentinel hadn’t found his mate yet. If he had, the mark would have turned red after he first came in contact with her only to turn black when they’d consummated their bond, which meant that he had no excuse for leaving his sister behind.
“You left her behind for nothing!” Trace roared as he picked up the Sentinel and slammed him into the wall, destroying it on impact.
“I didn’t have a fucking choice!” Nathan shouted, reaching up to pull Trace’s hand off his throat as Trace tightened his hold and-
A roar was torn from him as an ear-shattering noise sounded, tearing through the house, forcing him to release the Sentinel so that he could place his hands over his ears as pain exploded in his head, dropping him to his knees and kept him there. He struggled to make sense out of what was happening, but he couldn’t, not over that noise, and not with his ears feeling like they were being crushed.