The Keepers: Ethan

Jenna’s words echoed in Ethan’s mind as he climbed the stairs to his room.

Hot damn, but hearing her say that had given him a good dose of the shivers. She’d said it so casually, as though being marked by vicious wolves on a magical high was the most normal thing in the world.

But he saw right through her. Beneath the bad-ass front she maintained around his brothers existed layers of worry that seldom showed.

Everyone had gone to bed, even though the morning sunlight would soon filter through the windows. They’d kept most of the blinds shut to keep the rest of the world out for a few hours.

He revelled in the silence of his room. Quiet and in the furthest part of the mansion. His space. Designed as a spacious apartment attached to the house, complete with an open-plan living area, kitchenette, and bedroom. Decorated the way he liked it. Simple and sparse.

The exact opposite of his lifestyle.

He never brought women up here. Excluding Jenna, but that was different on so many levels. Other than Sienna, she had the only woman pass he’d ever issued.

He’d soon figured out she shared his need for space – time out from the touchy-feely shit and all-knowing looks happening downstairs. Their single status amongst a house full of lovebirds had bound their friendship immediately.

His dates used to be fun. But now, with all the crap he and his brothers faced on a daily basis? Not so much. Although great women, making smalltalk over dinner with them had grown increasingly harder, soon frustrating the hell out of him – to the point that he’d begun to swap nights out for nights in.

With Jenna.

And they weren’t even having sex.

He blinked.

Where the hell had that come from?

He tossed his jacket over the leather couch, ignoring the way his body had reacted to that thought.

Right. Water.

Clearing his throat again, he walked to the kitchen. It was small but stocked with the basics.

In the months following Sarah’s death, other than venturing out to work, he’d holed up here. The main house had been too empty, sad. His sister’s death had sent Sienna and Declan hightailing it out of Rapid Falls. He’d missed Sienna, worried about her, but Declan’s departure had been a blessing. Had he stayed, his brothers would’ve killed each other, the rift more than a simple spat.

Guilt. Anger. Resentment.

And a shitload of grief that paled everything else.

Managing the restaurant renovations and the winery had fallen on Ethan’s shoulders. He’d had no choice. With Archer’s focus on finding Sienna, and Declan drowning his sorrows in whiskey and women, someone had to man the hell up.

Declan and Sienna had finally returned two years later to fend off Mason Brogan’s younger brother, Warrick. They’d killed Warrick and ensured Mason remained entombed in an underground storage room on their estate. A victory, but one that had come with a price. They’d almost lost Sienna. Instead, they’d lost Rose, her grandmother.

Kate and Jenna’s arrival a while later had tallied their head count to six people living under one roof. Despite the size of their house, Ethan had soon felt crowded. After having only Archer as company for so long and with two budding relationships between his brothers and the women, the communal areas were quick to resemble an international airport on a romance high.

So Ethan often retreated upstairs.

Not that he minded. Kate, Sienna, and Jenna were welcome. They belonged here. But still.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed to the bathroom, knowing the shower would do little to cleanse the frustration gnawing at his gut.

At least it would cleanse the grime of the night.

His mind reeled with everything that had happened. The crows, the shifters, the hellhounds.

Jenna.

The shower was brief and hot, the air permeated with soap and steam when he finished. He walked to the door, towel-drying his hair with a vigour that resembled his mood.

Jenna’s sudden appearance in the bedroom doorway drew him to an abrupt stop.

“Oh!” Her jaw fell and her hand came up to cover her eyes. Her cheeks coloured, not surprising considering he was as naked as the day he was born.

“Looking for something?” he drawled, lowering the towel just enough to cover his crotch. His ass was on its own.

She shuffled in the doorway. Hair in a ponytail, black robe and barefoot, no armour in sight. Vulnerable. Beautiful.

The hint of her feminine side always intrigued him. He’d connected to her as a Keeper, one to another. He’d fought beside her, witnessed her strength, but thanks to sheer willpower and many cold showers, he’d never dared to dwell on what he’d find if he delved further.

A whole lot of woman beneath the warrior.

Her fingers covering her eyes opened just an inch. “Ethan!” she cried, her voice laced with exasperation.

And Jenna never did exasperated. Ever.

He bit back a grin. “You should’ve knocked.”

“Your door was open.”

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Clearly.” She peeped through her fingers again. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Tremendously.”

“Well then, in that case, let me join in too.” Surprising him, she lowered her hand and zeroed her gaze on him. Down there. Still blushing, but taking her fill.

This time, if he had the ability to blush easily, he would. Hot damn. Chuckling at her candour, he flashed a wide grin and slowly fastened the towel around his waist. “Happy?”

Her gaze did a lingering sweep across his body. “I’ve always wondered if your female fans were after your money or your body.”

“Now you know.”

“Definitely the money.”

He laughed and went to her, wondering why she was here, surprised at how much it pleased him – and how easily she made him forget everything else. It was always like that with her. “Attacking my manhood again? I thought you learnt your lesson in the forest.”

“I wasn’t attacking anything.”

“Yet we’re back to my manhood.”