The day of the party was here, and Quinn had avoided more humiliation by making certain she was never alone with Luke Dashwood. She still had no idea what had gotten into her when Brandon had been attacked. By the time Luke had arrived, Marigold and Rick had subdued John already, but with the handsome wolf in the room, Quinn’s bear had roared to life. She’d never experienced such an extreme surge of power. It was as if some divine hand had reached down and given her the gift of command.

Maybe, daddy, she thought fondly. How lovely if it were true. Her father still protecting her even beyond life. But almighty Artio, goddess of all bears, what the flippin’ flying crap had her horny closet session had been about? She knew it was impossible with Luke. They could never be mates. So why had she tried to seduce him? Gah. Her stupid bear had been poking her every waking second about Luke.

Luke could be poking us every waking second, she rumbled.

Shut up, bear!

If Trey Steele wasn’t such a dick, this would all be so much easier. After that kiss in the pantry, Quinn knew without a doubt she would give up everything for Luke. But Trey was King Asshole, and her family and her clan would pay dearly if she acted so impulsively.

She’d been really proud of Marigold, and the female bear had taken her duties as Quinn’s second seriously. As a matter of fact, she hardly let Quinn out of her sight.

“Mari, have a cup of tea and sit with me for a moment.” Monica and Alise walked in, their heads together and giggling. “What are you two up to?”

“No good, if I had to guess,” Marigold said.

“Brandon complimented Monica on her honey brushed hot cross buns,” Alise teased.

“He does like hot buns,” Marigold added, her tone serious, but Quinn knew she was teasing Monica as well. Monica had been closer to the Bennet twins, but the more Quinn was around the tall, Amazonian woman, the more she liked her.

“You should just tell him,” Quinn said.

“Tell him what?” Monica played coy. She gave Quinn a pointed look than cast a quick glance at Marigold and back to her big sis.

Quinn snorted. “As if everyone in this room doesn’t know that you’re in love with Brandon Bennet.”

“I didn’t know,” said Marigold. She held her straight face for about three seconds then burst into a fit of laughter.

“Good one,” Monica said sourly. “So funny.”

Alise giggled. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Rick poked his head in the kitchen. All the women laughed. He held his hands up and slowly backed out.

When he disappeared from sight, they all laughed harder.

“Men,” Marigold said.

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed.

“Seriously though,” Mari said to Monica. “I’ve spent a lot of time in Brandon’s head, and he’s pretty oblivious. If you want him, you may have to beat him over the head with your intentions.”

Monica sighed and made her own cup of tea. “I can’t do anything until after tonight. As far as the clans concerned, Brandon is an eligible bachelor, and until Quinn chooses a mate, he’s off limits. All the single bears are.”

Quinn blinked. “That’s not true.”

Both her sisters and her second all made irritated noises.

Monica put her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “All the men in our clan and some of the men in the surrounding area have been forbidden from dating or mating until after you pick a partner. The unofficial order went out the day after dad died.”

“I feel like an idiot. It’s been almost three months. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Frankly, we assumed you knew,” Alise said. She pushed her chemically straightened hair from behind her head and tied it up in a loose bun. “All that college and you’re still clueless.”

Monica high-fived her. “Truer words, sister. Truer words.” She turned to Quinn. “So tonight’s the night, huh.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you excited?”

“Man,” Marigold said. “Quinn isn’t the only clueless Orson.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melody Orson chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. She slapped Quinn’s finger from her lips. “Don’t chew your nails, dear. You’ll ruin your manicure.” She looked at the plate of hot cross buns. “And stay away from those until after you get a mate.”

Quinn felt her earlobes warm. She grabbed a bun and took a large bite, the sweet, spicy bread stuffed with currants, filled her mouth.

Melody huffed her unhappiness. “You need to get upstairs for the hair dresser. It’s going to take hours to tame that wild mess on your head.”

Quinn had let it air dry after washing today just to piss her mom off. She finished chewing the large bite of food then smiled. “Right away, Mother.”

Melody walked around the back of Alise and undid her loose knot. “You’re going to get split ends.” To Monica, she merely shook her head. “I expect you all to be on your best behavior tonight.”

The doorbell rang.

Melody turned toward the foyer. “That must be the caterer. I told him to bring the food around the back.”

The flowers had arrived early morning and the drinks for the open bar a little later. But the caterer had been told to set up closer to the time of the party. And Melody had told him he could take over the kitchen.

“I guess that’s our cue to go,” Quinn said. “Uhm, do you know where…” She let the question directed at Marigold trail off.

Marigold nodded. “He’s checking all the motion activated alarms on the windows and any other place someone can gain entry without using the front or back door.”

“So, not in the house.”

“Affirmative.”

 

When Quinn made it up the makeup parlor, she snuck a peek out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Luke. When she saw him standing next to Rick, sweat glistening off his incredible biceps, Quinn marveled at her self-control. In other words, she didn’t throw the window open and leap out to be near him.

Adulting sucked. A woman with blonde crimped hair and too much blue eyeshadow strolled in to the room. She wore a pink satin smock with a caricature of dancing shears painted on the front. “Who are you?” She wasn’t Albert, obviously, the man who’d done her hair earlier in the week.

“I am Carly,” she said. “Albert is sick today. He sent me in his place.”

Quinn detected a slight whiff of anxiety, something she wouldn’t have noticed before, but now it smelled almost like spoiled cider. Weird. She could smell something else as well. Something familiar, but faint.

“Come on in.” She beckoned the woman toward her. “I won’t bite.” Unless you provoke me, her bear countered.

Carly fluffed the bottom edge of her hair. She frowned. “Pretty.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said with the same lack of enthusiasm. “Do you want me to sit down on the stool?”

“Yes. That would be perfect.” She retrieved the stool Albert had been using all week. It was over near the wardrobe. “Next to the window seems good. We’ll have a lot of natural light.”

Albert always made her sit in front of the makeup mirror, but Quinn was happy to move to the new location. At least, the view would improve.

Carly plugged in her set of hot rollers, place a round brush, a comb, and setting spray on a small stand on the right of the window against the wall. She began by spritzing Quinn’s curls. “You have a lot of hair,” she said.

“So, I’ve been told.” Quinn pushed a stray curl back. The familiar scent still lingered. It was sort of like wet moss. Where had she smelled that before? “Have we met?”

“I don’t think so.” The air of spoiled cider became more pungent, dulling the other aroma. “I hear tonight’s your big night.” Carly began combing through Quinn’s hair. “Who’s the lucky fellow?”

A longing surged through Quinn. She gazed out the window to where Luke stood. Why did life have to be so complicated? Because it was. Wishing otherwise was a childish waste of effort. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to find another way. Quinn had combed over the clan rule books with a fine tooth comb, but the archaic laws favored patriarchy. There were no provisions for a female leader. And she didn’t have time to convince her clan to change their long-held laws.

When she chose a mate, Trey would invoke the alpha trials, and her chosen bear would have to fight Trey. If Trey won, the clan would become Trey’s. Her other option was to mate with Trey, and the clan would become Trey’s. The last option made her shudder. Yuck. No way would she take that asshat as a mate. If he wanted the leadership so bad, he’d have to fight for it like her great, great grandfather had done back in the day.

Quinn prayed that the man Geraldine Wilder sent to her tonight would be someone kind. Maybe she could handle what needed to be done if the man was at least kind. And strong. Crap. He needed to be alpha enough to take Trey down in a challenge.

A tug on Quinn’s hair brought her abruptly back to the here and now. “Ow.” She rubbed her scalp where Carly had gotten a too rough.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde said.

Quinn turned in time to see the hair dresser swinging a pair of scissors right at Quinn’s neck. She threw her arms up to block the blow, and the blades punctured her forearms.

“This is for the Steele Clan,” the woman screamed as she yanked the scissors free and stabbed at Quinn again.

Quinn threw her shoulder into Carly’s chest and shoved her back. The blonde staggered back under the force of the blow. She threw the scissors at Quinn but missed, and the heavy metal shears shattered the parlor window. A roar leaped from Quinn’s lips like nothing she’d ever heard come out of her in human form, and she charged the would-be assassin. She tackled Carly to the ground. The wardrobe wobbled at the force of both women rolling against it. Quinn scrambled to her feet after launching two-fisted blows into Carly’s pert nose.

Blood oozed from the blonde woman’s face. She gave Quinn a look a sheer hate. “The Orsino line will end,” she spouted, blood and saliva spraying from her lips.

Quinn put her hand on the top of the wardrobe and gave Carly a pitying look. “But not today.” She yanked the large oak piece over and jumped out of the way as it crashed down onto the would-be killer.

Quinn’s knees wobbled as shock set in. She heard her shouting, but it was as if someone had shoved cotton in her ears.

Warm, strong arms scooped Quinn up and cradled her body as if she were a fragile bird. “Are you okay, baby? You’re not hurt are you?”

She blinked and saw Luke’s gorgeous blue eyes narrowed in concern.

He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Quinn, talk to me, sweetheart. Say something.”

Quinn smiled, still feeling a little dazed from the fight. “You called me baby and sweetheart.”

“You gave me such a scare,” he said.

Quinn raised her hand to touch his furry cheek. “Mine,” she said softly and gave his beard a light tug.

Luke’s blue eyes turned amber. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re still in shock. We need to get your arm treated. It’s still bleeding.”

Quinn bit down on her lower lip to stop it from trembling and nodded. Her father had made her and her sisters take self-defense classes when they were teenagers, but it was the first time Quinn had found cause to use it.

Her mom rushed into the room, her face aghast at what she found. “What’s going on?”

Quinn stared at the older woman whose stern features were touched with genuine concern. She forced a smile. “Oh, hey, Mom. I’m going to need a new hairdresser.”