Olivia didn’t miss how the air around them tensed for a moment, but she didn’t say anything.
Silke continued. “The land’s been in my mother’s family for generations, and she built the resort from nothing. Pa did the best he could to run it when she passed, and when I was old enough, I took it over. For a while there, business was rough and we had cancellations after the whole Lycan outing thing.” She shrugged. “But then it flipped completely. Once people found out we were a Lycan-friendly resort, we were booked solid for months. Tourists, curiosity seekers, couples who thought it was romantic. We had to hire more staff just to keep up.”
“That’s incredible,” Olivia said.
“It’s been a lot,” Silke admitted. “But it’s home. And the boys help out, even if they complain about it.”
“And good for the town,” Isabelle added. “The local businesses have seen a bump too. Hotels, restaurants, the whole strip.”
“But don’t worry. Your cabin is nowhere near the public part of the property,” Silke assured them. Guests don’t come back there. And the protections help.”
“Speaking of which,” Isabelle said, setting down her fork. “We’ve been in touch with the coven about strengthening the wards around the property in case Garret McCall tracks you here.”
“How likely is that?” Olivia asked Eli.
“Low,” Eli said. “But not zero.”
Reaching over, Olivia placed a hand on his thigh. “How good are the protections and wards?
“So far, they’re quite effective,” Silke answered. “They’re designed to keep humans from wandering where they shouldn’t. Confusion spells, redirection, that sort of thing. It doesn’t make sense to ward against Lycans of course. But given the situation, we asked if they could do something that might keep someone like Garret McCall from getting close.”
Eli’s muscles stiffened under her touch. This time, she couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the mention of McCall or something else entirely.
“They’re coming out to take a look,” Silke said. “Margaux Featherstone, the matriarch, doesn’t usually handle requests like this herself, but I have a relationship with her, so she agreed.”
Isabelle snorted. “What does the hag—er, witch want in return?”
Silke waved her off. “Probably a discount on the catering for her daughter’s wedding next year. The woman drives a hard bargain, but she’s fair.” She grinned. “Mostly fair.”
Eli had remained quiet for most of the meal. Not unusual for him, and Olivia figured anyone at the table would just chalk it up to his general disposition. He ate, he nodded, he even answered a couple of direct questions from Silke about whether the cabinhad everything they needed. But something shifted. Once again, it was subtle, but it was there. She tucked it away. Filed it in the back of her mind alongside every other thing Eli wasn’t saying.
Chapter 11
If it wasn’t for the fact that his bastard of a sperm donor was on the loose and someone had tried to murder Olivia, Eli might have actually called the past three days relaxing.
There was nothing like waking up with Olivia pressed against his side, half asleep, her body soft. Waking her up to make love to her was another highlight, then it was breakfast and coffee on the porch, enjoying the views of the rolling hills. The afternoons stretched out in long, lazy hours, walking along trails or visiting with Isabelle, Ransom, and Evan at their cabin. And of course, the evenings were spent tangled together in the cabin’s double bed, which was slightly too small for two people, one of whom hogged the covers and refused to stay on her own side.
They’d also met the rest of the clan. Aside from Snake, Axle, and Bo, there was Hardy, the VP, a fierce, no-nonsense single father whose two-year-old daughter Annie had taken one look at Olivia and asked if she was a princess. There was Hawk, Snake’s brother, who was enthusiastic about everything and talked with his hands. Ink, the youngest and still sported the probationary patch, ran errands for the full members and took his hazing with good humor. The original MC had also expanded sincethey’d been recognized by the High Council. A handful of new Lycans had trickled in, most of them Lone Wolves, drawn by word of mouth and the fact that for the first time, there was a legitimate Alpha in the region willing to take them in. Though not part of the MC, they had pledged to the clan and they lived on the outskirts of the property, contributing where they could. Ransom didn’t turn anyone away.
It was a different kind of clan than anything Eli had known. It wasn’t like New York’s stiff hierarchy and certainly not Boston’s tyrannical grip. Over here, there were no crews or jobs, no bags of cash in black duffels bags or midnight trips to the docks. Also, his wolf was calmer here than it had been in months, maybe years. The air was clean, the territory was vast, and the constant cacophony of New York was gone, replaced by fresh, pine-scented air.
“You two should try the horses,” Silke said at breakfast that morning. She’d gotten into the habit of stopping by their cabin with fresh pastries from the lodge kitchen, which Olivia inhaled before Eli could even take a sniff. “We’ve got twelve and the trails around here are gorgeous. Logan can set you up.”
Eli expected Olivia to politely decline, but to his surprise, she said, “I’d love that.” Her eyes lit up.
“You ride?”
“Every summer, at my uncle’s ranch.” She gave him a saucy grin. “What? A girl can’t have layers?”
Silke grinned. “Ah, horse girl huh?”
Olivia laughed. “Not quite, but close enough.”
They walked down to the stables after breakfast, following the dirt path Silke had pointed out. The stables were closer to the main lodge, near the individual guest cabins, but Silke had assured them they would still be far enough from the public areas. Eli wrinkled his nose as the smell of horse sweat and dung overwhelmed his sensitive Lycan senses. Olivia, on the otherhand, gripped his arm and let out a tiny squeal the moment the she saw the long, wooden structure with a paddock to the side where three horses stood in the morning sun. A figure leaned up on the fence, overseeing his charges.
Logan, Eli thought. And as if he’d called him out loud, Logan turned to face them.
He’d heard the other members mention him in passing and always with a cautious, careful tone. Now he understood why. The man was enormous, yes; easily the largest of the clan, probably the same height and build as Cliff Forrest. A permanent scowl marred his face, and his keen blue eyes bore straight into them, all while giving nothing away. But it was what Eli perceived beneath the surface that made him slow his steps. His wolf, too, sensed it, and told him to tread carefully. As a Lycan, Eli could sense others like him through their inner wolves. It sat inside them, in the background, but always beneath the surface. But Logan’s was clawing at the walls.
