Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack #4)(6)

Bracken frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Jesse pocketed his phone. “It’s Madisyn.”

His wolf’s ears perked up. “Madisyn?”

“She got caught up in an altercation at Enigma.”

Slicing out his claws, his wolf growled. “What kind of altercation?”

Jesse hopped off the stool. “The guy who owns the place recognized her as one of our barmaids and called Nick, who now wants me to go pick her up.”

Bracken pushed his bottle aside and stood. “I’ll get her.”

Jesse hesitated. “It’s fine. I can—”

“I said I’ll get her.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I’ve had one beer, and you know it.” His pack mates had been watching him like a hawk since Bracken walked in the club, and it fucking galled him. “After I’ve taken Madisyn home, I’ll call you and fill you in on what happened.”

Bracken headed straight for the exit, cursing her with every breath he took. Did he want to go and pick her up? No, because he did not need the drama. But his wolf would hound him all night if he didn’t see for himself that she was fine. Bracken didn’t doubt she was. If she’d gotten into a fight, the owner of the club would have said so. It was likely that the altercation had been between two males fighting over her or one of her group—that kind of thing happened a lot in shifter nightclubs.

Outside, Bracken crossed to his SUV and slid inside. In a matter of moments, he was driving out of the parking lot. And he was still cursing her in his head.

Madisyn Drake was a typical feline. Graceful. Solitary. Independent. Marched to the beat of her own drum. And his wolf had grown to be very protective of her.

She wasn’t Bracken’s type, but he had to admit she was striking. Her heavy-lidded, murky-blue eyes made him think of a brewing storm. Her symmetrical face was faintly heart-shaped, with high cheekbones many females would envy. Then there was her full, bow-shaped, bitable mouth that he’d found his eyes drifting to more than once. Any red-blooded male would think of exploring her exceptionally sinful curves or fisting the sleek dark hair that fell in choppy waves around her face and down to her collarbone. The edgy, jagged style gave her a sexy bedhead look.

Moreover, there was something else about her . . . something he couldn’t quite put into words . . . that snared his attention. She never failed to grasp his wolf’s attention either. The beast loved her strong predatory streak and how she often canvassed her surroundings with sharp eyes that missed nothing, much like an Alpha would.

She and Bracken had clashed a little in the beginning, since they were both similar in many ways. Both were slow to trust. Both liked dicking with people. And both backed down for no one.

It had been hard for him to warm up to her for a whole other reason. He and his wolf had always been in perfect sync. They had the same likes and dislikes and always worked as a unit. Madisyn was the only thing he and his wolf had ever been at odds about. His wolf wanted her. Bracken didn’t. And his wolf refused to drop it. That she could make him feel in conflict with his own wolf . . . Initially, Bracken had been unable to help resenting her for it.

But he found it impossible to dislike her, even though she made no effort to be likable. Hell, she even refused to tell people what breed of cat she was just to mess with them. Bracken wouldn’t go so far as to say they were friends, but she was easy to be around. In fact, he found it easier to be around her than he did his own pack mates these days. His pack fussed over him and handled him with kid gloves. Not Madisyn. She never treated him like he needed sympathy and care. Never asked if he was okay, pressured him to talk, or offered consolations he was tired of hearing.

His head was a goddamn mess, and he was far from stable, but Madisyn—as always—refused to take any of his shit. She dished it right back. It was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t treat or look at him like he was broken . . . which helped him forget that he was.

She probably encountered people at the shelter who’d lost their way, so maybe that was where she’d learned that he wouldn’t want to be babied. But Bracken couldn’t help but wonder if she too had suffered a loss. He found himself “wondering” about her far too often, just as he found himself watching her far too much.

He’d noticed that she hadn’t been herself lately. She’d been jittery. Snippy. More impatient than usual. Bracken had asked her what was wrong, but she’d blown him off. It was no surprise. He’d never in his life met a more private person than Madisyn.

Guys constantly hit on her at the Velvet Lounge, but she shot them down so fast their heads spun, which his wolf found endlessly amusing. Bracken had heard her talking to a guy on her cell a few times, and he suspected she was involved with someone. Usually, his wolf would respect that, but he didn’t see Madisyn as off-limits. To his wolf, the other male was insignificant, beneath his notice, and had absolutely no claim on her.

Finally pulling up outside Enigma, Bracken hopped out of the SUV. Ignoring the long line of people waiting to get into the club, he marched right up to the bouncers. Before he’d even opened his mouth, the burliest of the two spoke.

“You’re Bracken Slater.” There was respect in his voice.

Polar bear, Bracken sensed. After the extremist attacks, his picture had been plastered all over the media, so he was easily recognizable. “I am.”