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As I pull into the parking lot behind Zoe's car, I can't help but think about Liam. This is his girlfriend, and I'm the one following her home. It doesn't seem right.
My wolf whines, insisting that Zoe is our mate. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. How can this be? She's with Liam, she's off-limits. But my wolf doesn't care about human complications. He only knows she's ours.
I wonder what they were arguing about earlier. The tension between them was palpable, and I can't help but feel a twinge of hope. Immediately, I push the thought away. It's wrong to wish for my brother's relationship to fail, no matter how much my wolf howls for her.
Liam's been a real pain in the ass these last couple of years. His ambition has turned into resentment, and I don't know how to bridge the growing gap between us. I've tried talking to him, tried including him more in pack business, but nothing seems to satisfy him. It's like he's slipping away, and I don't know what to do about it. Now, with Zoe in the picture, things are only going to get more complicated.
Ever since our parents died, I've been more than just his older brother—I've been his protector, his guide. The weight of that responsibility sits heavy on my shoulders, a constant reminder of the sacrifices I've made. The idea of betraying him, even for my mate, goes against everything I've stood for. But the pull towards Zoe... it's like nothing I've ever experienced before. An ache so deep it feels etched into my bones.
I step out of my truck, scanning the area as Zoe gathers her things. It's a modest apartment complex, not the safest area of town, but not the worst either. I make mental notes of potential entry points, escape routes, anything that could be used to our advantage or against us. My military training kicks in, assessing threats and planning contingencies. It's familiar, comforting even, in the face of the emotional turmoil I'm feeling.
"Home sweet home," Zoe mutters as she unlocks the front door. I can hear the tension in her voice, see it in the set of her shoulders. She's trying to appear nonchalant, but I can tell she's rattled by the whole situation.
I step inside after her, immediately scanning the small apartment. It's cozy, filled with an eclectic mix of furniture and decorations that scream 'Zoe.' The scent of her fills my nostrils, and I have to fight back a growl of pleasure. Focus, Marcus, I remind myself sternly.
"I need to check your security measures," I say, my voice gruffer than I intended. "Windows, doors, any potential entry points."
Zoe nods, gesturing around the apartment. "Be my guest."
I start my inspection, methodically checking each window and door. To my surprise, I find the security measures more than adequate. There are sturdy locks on all the windows, a deadbolton the front door, and even a small security system by the entrance.
"This is... actually pretty good," I admit, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
Zoe raises an eyebrow, a hint of sass in her tone. "Don't sound so shocked. I may be human, but I'm not helpless."
I feel a smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "I never said you were."
As I continue my inspection, I can't help but notice little details about her living space. The well-worn yoga mat in the corner, the stack of art books on the coffee table, the half-finished painting propped up on an easel. Each discovery feels like a precious glimpse into her world, and I find myself hungering for more.
"So," Zoe says, breaking the silence. "What's the verdict? Am I allowed to stay in my own home, or are you going to drag me back to pack territory?"
I turn to face her, weighing my options. The security measures are good, but the threat is serious. My instincts scream at me to take her back to the pack house, to keep her under constant surveillance. But I know that would only make her resent me, and the last thing I want is to alienate her.
"I think we can compromise," I say finally. "You can stay here at night, but I'll be accompanying you to work tomorrow. And we'll need to set up some ground rules."
Zoe's relief is palpable, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at having made the right call. "Okay," she says, nodding. "I can work with that. What kind of ground rules are we talking about?"
I run through the basics—keeping doors and windows locked at all times, not going out alone, calling me immediately if anythingseems off. Zoe listens attentively, only occasionally rolling her eyes at what she probably considers overprotectiveness.
As I finish explaining, Zoe crosses her arms, a challenging glint in her eyes. "So, do I need to ask permission to use the bathroom too, or is that still allowed?"
I can't help but chuckle at her sass. "I think you can manage that on your own. Though if you're in there for more than an hour, I might have to break down the door."
She snorts, a genuine smile breaking through her tough exterior. "Please, like I'd spend an hour in the bathroom. Some of us have actual work to do."
"Speaking of work," I say, seizing the opportunity, "I'll need to know your schedule. When you leave, where you go, who you meet with."
Zoe's smile fades, replaced by a look of exasperation. "Seriously? You're going to micromanage my entire life?"
"It's for your safety, Zoe," I insist, trying to keep my voice gentle.
She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. But just so you know, you're not going to have much fun following me around all day. My life isn't exactly action-packed."
"I'm not here for fun," I remind her. "I'm here to keep you safe."
I can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about her relationship with Liam. It's not my business, but the protective instinct in me wants to know more. Before I can stop myself, I hear the words tumbling out of my mouth.
"Speaking of Liam, when are you meeting up with him next?" I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
