This Weakness For You

By Wendy Sparrow

She's exactly what he wants to sink his teeth into...
Jordan Hill is his pack's Alpha. The Big Bad Wolf. And after his last breakup, he's opting to be the lone wolf, too. But then his rival's little sister—a human, of all creatures—comes to his door. And suddenly, what should be a tasty little snack turns out to be something more than Jordan could ever imagine...

Christa Hansen is simply looking for a place to stay. Yet the dark shifter smells irresistibly like forever. But getting involved with the wolf who tried to kill her brother—twice—is lunacy. Besides, in the unforgiving, shadowed world of shifters, there is no room for weakness. And falling for her family's enemy won't just be her downfall...it will be his, too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Nov 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781633751361

Book preview

This Weakness

For You

a Taming the Pack novel

This Weakness

For You

a Taming the Pack novel

Wendy Sparrow

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Discover the Taming the Pack series…

Past My Defenses

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Wendy Sparrow. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

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Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Select is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Lewis Pollak

Cover design by Fiona Jayde

ISBN 978-1-63375-136-1

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition November 2014

To everyone who has ever asked for one more story.

Chapter One

You were right, Garret said, his voice flat.

Jordan was torn between satisfaction and trepidation. He sat down on the couch in his study and stretched his legs toward the gas fire as he held the phone to his ear. Go on.

Garret’s laugh was humorless. You are something, little brother. You’ve always been like a dog with a bone.

Tightening his grip on the phone, he clenched his jaw against the words his brother wanted acknowledged: that Jordan was Lycan, so the dog metaphor was correct. The only Lycan among his siblings.

How did you know it’d be there? Garret asked.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. If only there’d been someone else he could ask to do this, but Garret had the right connections—or lack of connections. Only a two-footer in a Lycan family would be accepted onto the invitation-only site.

It might have been better if they hadn’t turned out a single Lycan—but for the youngest to not only be a Lycan but an obvious lock for Alpha at his size… Well, hell, it was no wonder his siblings hated him. They were the poster children for why Lycans should only mate with Lycans, because his family history had been loose on that rule up until his own parents. This was the result: the Hill family.

Kids, this is what not to do.

I just knew, Jordan said finally.

Not good enough. If you’re dragging us into this hell you brought on yourself…

By being Lycan? We’re talking about poachers, Garret. Don’t be a fool. The only thing we’ve done is exist.

Garret snorted. It didn’t help that Jordan was also the most successful in his family. He’d never asked for any of this. He could hear his brother shuffling things around on a desk. Sure. And you’re a specific target because of…what? They think you’re weak and helpless?

Jordan swallowed. Just me? They’re only looking for me? This covert quest for vengeance couldn’t drag his pack in. Not now. Not when they were down to families. Because the truth was: this was his fault. And he’d known there’d be a day of reckoning for the deaths of two years ago and his part in them.

Well, I don’t know. Are there many large, black-pelted wolves in Washington State?

That’s what they said?

Yes. Black-pelted. Male. Large.

There weren’t many Lycans fitting that description. Most around here were dark or light brown. There were some smaller black-pelted Lycans—a few of them female. But there were only a few he’d classify as large and black-pelted. He was the most obvious choice. Why are they looking for me? I mean what does it say? Obviously they were looking for vengeance, same as him.

"Oh, it’s careful…like you expected it to be. Looking for an old friend. Lost touch. Might be unwilling to meet due to circumstances of last meeting."

Jordan smiled. It wasn’t a real smile, but it was the only one he had these days. Well, I can see why they’d think that—I ripped out their friend’s throat. But they’re wrong about me being unwilling to meet.

Dammit, Jordan. Don’t bring this to our door.

He tightened his jaw, pressing his lips together. Once upon a time, the family had been close—back when they’d all assumed they’d be full Lycan pack members. It’s at our door in the pack. The wolf at the door was not a wolf at all.

And we’re not pack? Is that it?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fought another retort. They could be pack. Hell, their kids stood a good chance of being Lycans. It skipped generations. But he knew for a fact, Anthony hadn’t told his wife anything about this furry and fanged side of the family, and their oldest should hit puberty any day now. That might be a shock for his sister-in-law if his nephew Emmett went Teen Wolf on her.

So, we’re worth less because we’re not pack? Garret went on.

When did they get to be junior high girls sniping at each other? Of course not. It was like the old days when his mother had stopped him from roughhousing with his brothers because they weren’t as strong as him. He wasn’t to provoke them, either. He exhaled in a huff. What do they want?

It says there’s a reward if someone facilitates a meeting.

Facilitate. That’s a nice word for it. Drag him away from the pack and put him on the chopping block, more like.

Your pack is still too strong for them to come after you, isn’t it? For the first time, he heard actual concern in his brother’s voice. If only their envy and Jordan’s pride hadn’t poisoned their relationships.

Yes. It was his automatic answer. He’d been humbled by the last two years, but not that much. Glacier pack was still large. It was the largest in Washington State—though not one of the largest in the U.S. anymore, not since the Rainier pack had split off with Travis, his former acting Alpha. There was always safety in numbers, and Glacier pack still had that going for it. And he was their Alpha. His size and strength hadn’t changed. And he had little enough to distract him these days. I just want this on my terms and to be prepared.

So, you want me to watch this forum member?

What’s his name?

Bo Peep. It could be a woman. It might not even be what you’re thinking.

A sheep in wolf clothing—pretending to belong in the outskirts of the Lycan world. Your instincts say it is. Even if they hadn’t shifted, he’d trust his siblings’ instincts. That wasn’t exclusive to the Lycan side.

It is. Sometimes, casual looks…too casual. I can keep an eye on them. See if anyone interacts with them. I might even be able to find out what name they used as entry to the site.

No. You’ll come off looking suspicious. I don’t want any extra attention—otherwise I might have tried to get in myself.

So, what do you want me to do then?

Jordan stared unseeingly at the fire. Up until two years ago, he’d felt…invincible. Like death couldn’t touch him. No one would dare attack a pack Glacier’s size…and then a poacher had moved on them—helped from within, and three Lycans had wound up dead. Now he no longer felt invincible, but that didn’t bother him as much as it once did.

If he pursued this, what did he have to lose? What was he willing to risk?

Nothing and everything.

Tell them you can arrange a meeting.

What? his brother’s voice rose in agitation. You’re kidding. There was a brush of air against the mouthpiece as his brother shook his head. No. No way. That puts me at risk. And mom. And our family. And you. At least he’d remembered to include Jordan—even if it was nearly an afterthought.

You’re only sending a message…online. You won’t be anywhere around here.

Jordan, I haven’t exactly hidden my identity on this site. If these aren’t Lycans you’re dealing with…

They aren’t.

If they aren’t…they wouldn’t necessarily know that I’m not pack.

Sometimes, it felt like they talked in circles. They’ll know. You wouldn’t be in that forum if you were pack. He’d guessed there had to be somewhere one could contact a poacher. Someone had managed it two years ago. There had to be a place where disgruntled muttering was expected and not treated as fictional psychosis—where you could believe in Lycans and also reject them. The well-hidden, invite-only online forums for humans in Lycan families seemed a logical spot.

How did you know to look there?

He could change the subject, or not answer, but, for once, he’d acknowledge the ugly truth. Because who else believes in Lycans, but hates them enough to turn them over to a death squad? Those on the fringes of the pack who felt like outcasts when their genes betrayed them. He had sympathy for his siblings. There just wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. He couldn’t make them Lycans, but he had managed to make them enemies by attempting to draw them into his world. The more he’d tried, the more they’d resented him. They had an uneasy truce by pretending, for the most part, that Jordan wasn’t Lycan or the Alpha of a pack.

Silence. Though his brother’s breathing picked up. You know that’s not true.

He sighed. Arrange the meeting.

I’ll think about it and get back with you.

He looked at the clock. I’ll be in the hospital for a bit, and I’ll probably have to turn my phone off.

The hospital?

Maternity ward. Vanessa had a baby.

She’s the blonde with the great legs?

Jordan smirked. Garret had come to one pack meeting three years ago, but he remembered that. I wouldn’t know. Yes. She had great legs. Not that he cared. She’s mated and married.

Liam?

No. A human. A park ranger.

She married a human?

Didn’t know you’d had your chance, huh?

Garret was currently divorced…for the second time. You must approve of him…since you didn’t kill him.

For an instant, there was a flash of what might feel like, to a lesser man, shame and embarrassment, but Jordan ignored it. Actually, I tried. Twice.

His brother laughed. Garret had always focused on the more morbid aspects of pack life as if to prove to himself he wasn’t missing much, so it was hard to say whether he believed Jordan had tried to kill Dane.

Arrange the meeting.

I’ll think about it, Garret repeated.

And this stays between us. Tell no one.

Who would I tell? There was anger there—in the quickening of his breath, in the pitch of his voice. One last reminder that he recognized he wasn’t pack and therefore was on the outside.

Jordan moved to hang up and the line crackled and buzzed for a second. Damn phone. He slammed it down.

It was done. Garret would bait a trap, and they’d see if it was a wolf trap or a man trap. He dragged both hands down his face as he dropped back against the couch. He deserved whatever came to him. If he wound up a black pelt on a poacher’s wall, so be it, but they weren’t taking this wolf down without a fight. A fight he couldn’t wait to start.

It was done. And it was about damn time.

…

Christa followed the sound of arguing. Even in the hospital, within hours of their child’s birth, they’d be arguing. At least here, it wouldn’t be followed by them disappearing for an hour into a closet. She hoped.

I’m just saying, if his middle name is Reno, there’ll be questions about why, Vanessa said.

It’s where we spent our honeymoon, Dane said.

You don’t name kids after places you had sex.

Dane laughed. Well, no, because we’d just call him Nathanial Everywhere Hansen and be done with it.

Christa, come in and tell your brother that Nathanial Dane Hansen is a good name, Vanessa called from inside the room.

It was creepy how good her hearing was—it was like supernaturally good. Since they knew she was here, she came in, dragging her balloons with her. Hey, congratulations, guys. I brought balloons…just in case Vanessa was allergic. Wait, are you allergic to balloons?

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "I’m not allergic to everything."

Dane laughed. But as it happens, those are latex balloons, so, yes.

Had to say something… Vanessa glared at Dane. It’s not like I was going to lick them.

That’s not what they say in Reno. This seemed to be their bizarre version of that’s what she said and, sometimes, she wondered…and then she wanted to bleach her brain because this was her brother. Her. Brother.

Vanessa opened her mouth to snark at Dane. Okay, time to head this off before there was an argument…and the disappearing thing.

Christa pulled down the Mylar balloon in the middle. Though really, I just bought this for Dane because I thought it was funny.

The silver balloon read, Oh my, he’s a big one!

Dane raised his eyebrows and fought a smile.

You can think of that one as being from Vanessa, though. It was too hilarious to pass up. She handed off the balloons to her brother and then leaned over the bed to look at her first little nephew. Judging from how frequently her brother and his wife disappeared, this round, chubby bundle was the first of many. Dane was even getting away with dropping a litter jokes with Vanessa, so clearly, there’d be more. Christa reached over and brushed a finger along her nephew’s cheek. He was snuggled down in Vanessa’s arms and had slept through their arguing—but he’d been prepared in the womb for that.

Do you want to hold him? Vanessa asked.

Christa winced. Let me take a break first. Her multiple sclerosis was in a take-no-prisoners sort of mood today. Dane frowned and rushed to her side to help her, but she shook him off with a frown. I just need to sit down for a few minutes. I couldn’t get a close parking spot. I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t have driven if it was a problem. She probably would have. Stubbornness was a Hansen family trait. It was practically in their genes.

She dropped ungracefully into the seat and sighed. Her feet were tingling like she’d just run twenty miles on them. Her MS hadn’t responded to the recent stress with her roommate very well. This relapse might be a pain if she didn’t solve that problem soon. Dane had a super-concerned-older-brother look on his face.

So, tell me why my nephew is named Nathanial, and don’t give me that crap about Great-Uncle Nate, because my only memory of him is when I was like six, and he yelled at you to eat your damn peas.

Dane grinned. I remember that, too…mostly because you asked if you could have my damn peas.

He wasn’t getting off that easy, but she did say with a shrug, I like my peas. Then she stared down Dane. Marriage seemed to have built up his resistance to her stare, because it took about twenty seconds for him to break.

Uhh, he’s named after a…friend of Vanessa’s.

Speak of the devil, Vanessa murmured, looking toward the door.

Whoever this Nathanial guy was, he was preceded by balloons that he batted into the door with a grunt of irritation. Then he walked in…all six-foot-huge inches of him. Geez, she’d thought Dane was sturdy-looking. His face was hidden by the balloons that he handed over, but she’d seen dark black hair and deeply tanned skin that looked more like ancestry than sun-worshipping. I figured balloons were the best idea. I nearly bought that ‘Oh my, he’s a big one!’ too, but figured Dane’s ego was already big enough for… He stopped and inhaled. Oh, hell, not again. His fist at his side clenched tight. There’s another female in this room. I heard someone else but…I never should have come in—I just never should have come in. This wasn’t supposed to be able to happen again. He turned his back to her, so she still hadn’t seen his face. Well, so much for introducing herself to that giant. He inhaled deeply again and swore a few more times under his breath.

She sucked in an angry breath…and then…nothing…the strangest feeling came over her. Oh, wow, mystery man smelled fantastic—whatever cologne he wore was…like magic. She wanted to attack him and rip all his clothes off. Hopefully he wasn’t married, or she’d feel guilty for even thinking about it. But, oh, whoa…he was so…whoa. Christa closed her eyes so she could stop drinking him in, but then they opened without her permission. This was a guy she had to meet. She just had to.

Yeah, there’s another female in the room, Dane said, throwing a glance Christa’s way.

The giant rubbed both hands down his face. Uhh…what is she to you?

Jordan? Vanessa asked, sitting up. Are you okay?

What is she to you? he asked Dane through clenched teeth. She smells like a relative. Is she a relative?

My sister is here. She’s behind you. Chr…

"Uhh! The giant held up a hand. Don’t say her name! Don’t say it. And I won’t look at her and maybe it’s not too late, though that didn’t work last time. He gestured in back of him. Whoever you are—don’t say a single word. Looking up at the ceiling, he muttered while shaking his head. She had to be his sister—had to be. He glanced at Vanessa briefly and said, Congratulations. You look great, Nessa, and he looks healthy." Christa got a brief glance at high cheekbones and a flat nose before he spun away and left the room—in a rush.

What the hell was that about? Dane asked his wife, who looked pale as a ghost.

Vanessa’s mouth was hanging open.

Dane scowled at the door with narrowed eyes. "What did he mean not again?"

Vanessa closed her mouth, swallowed, and shot a glance at Dane.

Oh, hell no. He didn’t just scent-match on my sister. He went to the door and yelled, Don’t even come sniffing around, Jordan! I can’t believe you scent-matched on her!

Uhh, well, that was…great. The hospital probably was loving that. Could you get kicked out of a hospital? If you did, did they get to keep the kid?

Vanessa cleared her throat. You didn’t have to yell, Dane.

She couldn’t agree more with her sister-in-law.

Then Vanessa brushed a hand down her hospital gown and added, I don’t know if it’s technically an answer, but he said, ‘He’d rather die.’

Yeah, he will die if he even thinks it, Dane growled into the hallway.

Okay, this was nuts. She didn’t have a clue what her brother was all worked up about. It’s like they were speaking another language. Dane, I don’t think death threats go over really well in a hospital—especially in the maternity ward.

Dane didn’t answer. He went over to the chair nearest Vanessa and the baby and almost fell into it before dropping his face into his hands.

Vanessa shot her a smile that was more of a grimace and then patted Dane’s head. Baby, you sort of like Jordan now.

His name is Jordan, not Nathanial? It was a little confusing when they seemed to be throwing around random names and speaking in gibberish.

Nathanial is his middle name, Vanessa said.

Dane shook his head and spun to face Christa. Pointing, he said, You are not to have anything to do with the man who just left. Do you hear me? Nothing. Ever. He made a slicing motion with his hand and added another ever for good measure. Her brother could get heavy-handed every so often, but she’d learned to let it roll off her.

Does he live near you guys? she asked. This didn’t bode well for the question she’d come to ask in addition to getting the chance to see her newborn nephew.

"Yes. He practically runs the town we’re in—or he thinks he does. He isn’t in charge of my family!" Dane shouted.

Vanessa patted his arm.

Christa winced—and not just because her brother was back to shouting.

Why did you ask about that? Dane asked.

I was hoping I could come stay in your spare room for a few weeks. Dane’s eyes widened, so she hurried to head him off. Just for a few weeks. My MS is really bad, but my roommate got picked up for possession, and I’m afraid she’ll start hiding stuff in my…stuff. Also, she’s been high for like two weeks now, and I don’t want to be the one to discover her body.

Her brother’s mouth dropped open.

He’d warned her that Mackenzie was too much of a party animal to live with after she was out of college, but Mackenzie hadn’t been bad—up until her latest boyfriend had caught her sleeping with his best friend and dumped her. Then it was a downward spiral Christa couldn’t seem to help her break out of. It’d been two months of hell—of trying to get help for Mackenzie and taking away her meth and flushing it, but you couldn’t keep up with a determined addict, and Mackenzie was en route to the morgue at this rate.

Also, the more Christa stressed out about it, the worse her MS got. She was starting to feel like a zombie from how much she was sleeping to recover, and Mackenzie was using her crash-naps to get high. So, no—no more. It was over. She was leaving it up to Mackenzie’s family to help her rather than torpedo her own life.

"I’m in the middle of a flare-up, and I can’t pack up everything and find another place and then move in. Dad was going to help me dump everything in storage, but he said I should stay with you until this relapse ends. I guess Mom has bitten off more than she can chew with that charity thing she’s organizing, and he thinks it’ll just stress me out more. So, it’s you—or maybe a hotel."

Vanessa opened her mouth to say something.

Christa held up her hand, stalling her. I’m boarding Lucifer, and I swear I will sterilize all my clothes in bleach if I have to. I know you’re allergic. I swear you will not find so much as microscopic traces of cat on me. Cross my heart and hope to die.

Both Vanessa and Dane winced.

Yeah, that was a bit morbid. But she was going to be super careful that her cat didn’t kill Vanessa—not that he’d ever do it on purpose. Lucifer’s name had come with him, but he was the sweetest cat in the world. He was so sweet Dane had seriously overfed him the last time he stayed with her brother—so it was just as well Lucifer wouldn’t be spoiled like that again. Boarding him would be good for him. He’d discover he wasn’t the only cat in the world.

Dane growled and dropped his face into his hands again.

"I guess I can stay in a hotel. I mean, you do have a new baby."

It’s not that! Vanessa smiled, admitting, Well, it’s a little that, but it’s not enough to say no to family. She brushed a hand through Dane’s hair. Dane, I’ll talk with Jordan. He won’t come anywhere near her.

He won’t be able to help it, her brother muttered into his hands.

He will. She lowered her voice. He wouldn’t be Alpha if he couldn’t.

Alpha? It sounded like he belonged to some weird club.

Dane looked up and pointed at her. Fine! You can stay with us. But if you see that guy who just left, or a black wolf, tell me, and I’m keeping my shotgun near the door. He jumped to the window and opened it. Did you hear that? I’m keeping my shotgun near the door, and you know I don’t miss.

Oh, for the love of… Vanessa gave her an apologetic look. It’ll be fine. He’s just a bit protective.

And psycho. Her brother was acting like a total freak.

Vanessa shrugged.

…

Jordan dropped against the side of the hospital building and took deep, gulping breaths while brushing at his clothes. He’d have to burn them. They smelled too much like—whoever she was…whoever his new I can’t live without you mate was.

His forehead felt clammy, and he wiped the cold sweat away. This couldn’t be happening…again. No one had heard of this happening…again. If anything happened to the mate you scent-matched to, well, too bad—you were screwed; you had one chance at it.

Or not…apparently.

He’d seen a glimpse of some tiny female in a chair near the sink and then caught a whiff of her. His brain had reacted like he’d inhaled a live wire. His primal instincts had taken over, short-circuiting his rational mind, and he’d wanted nothing more than to grab his female and drag her off with him.

She smelled like brown sugar and vanilla, and his mouth had started watering like she was cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven…and then he’d caught just a hint of Dane’s scent. She smelled a bit like Dane—which made it creepy as hell that he was so outrageously attracted to her. That’s what had brought him to his senses.

It hadn’t killed his attraction, as it should have, but it had thrown some cold water on his reaction so he’d been able to be rational—well, semi-rational. Okay, so he’d run as fast as he could, and now Dane kept yelling threats because they’d figured out what had happened.

It’d been two years since that day at the cabin when it’d all gone to hell, and he hadn’t taken a mate since—something that didn’t please his pack, because the Alpha was expected to mate. But his previous mate, Cheri—his first strike—had tried to kill Vanessa. She’d even been scheming with his second strike, his scent-match, Sammy. Then, there was Vanessa, his third strike. He’d intended to take her as his alpha female—and