“Showing you who you belong to, vampire. And you know what? I don’t care if the demon watches. Because he needs to know you’re mine, not his, until I decide what to do with you.”
Kraft snorted. “Dream on. I belong to no female, and certainly no lycan.”
He was beginning to get a feel for how to manipulate his berserker. And it seemed telling her no got him an immediate yes. See? He had learned something from his scheming kin after all.
She frowned. “You don’t belong to me? How quickly we forget.”
Then she put on a show for Paz, and Kraft forgot all about manipulation when the sexy berserker made him forget his own name.
* * *
Riley didn’t knowwhat the demons—plural—had been up to when she’d been showering, but clearly it was no good. The demon in the sack had looked guilty as hell, wearing a symbol on his chest that hadn’t been there before she’d left. The demon in kitten form seemed way too casual about not protesting anything, but she’d distracted him with a little show that had him following her around, besotted, ever since.
She blushed. Though a lycan comfortable about shows of affection and mating practices necessary for the continuation of her kind, she’d always been on the shy side. Unlike shapeshifters, who often moved about naked, never able to shift with their clothes on, lycan magic enabled her to never go naked if she didn’t want to.
And though she’d been in relationships over the years, she’d never been one for grandstanding, keeping her private life as private as possible with so many nosy-bodies in the pack.
Yet that mark on Kraft’s chest bothered her. She needed Paz to know where he stood—several rungs below Riley.Shewould call the shots with the vampire, no matter what Kraft might think.
He sure hadn’t been complaining earlier.
The sly vamp caught her eye and winked.
She fought a blush.
Max and Kraft sat across from her in Max’s cabin, while outside Ivan stood watch. They had to come up with a gameplan. Especially with an evil sorcerer possibly in possession of the artifact, sacrificing lycans left and right.
“We need to track down the artifact,” Kraft stressed after tucking his phone into his back pocket once more. “Hecate keeps texting me, and she’s annoying.”
Max snorted. “Must be tough having a goddess in your contact list.” He glanced at Riley, his grin widening. “At least, that’s what all the guys say about my cousin.”
“Ha. Funny.” Max was such an idiot.
Kraft scowled at her. “Why do I not have your number, then?”
“What?”
“In my phone.” He handed it to her and nodded. “Insert yourself, female.”
She frowned and flipped him off. “Insert this.” Secretly, she liked when he tried bossing her around, mostly because though he said condescending or patronizing words, she could tell he didn’t mean them. Kraft had been treating her like an equal from the very beginning, and she still couldn’t forget that he’d watched while she fought lycans at the Olmstead house, letting her battle without interfering. Not until she’d needed help. While some females might be bothered by that, she appreciated his respect in her ability to fight more than she could say.
Her cousin took Kraft’s phone and put her number in.
“Hey.”
“Shut up. Here, Kraft.” Then Max took Paz in his lap and stroked the purring monster while they stared over a map of the Dark Mist’s known haunts in the city. “If Sebastian Castle is still using his ex-coven’s assets, he could be in any number of places. The magic users can say what they want, but I get the feeling not all the Rainier mages are playing nice.”
She frowned. “What do you think about Boyce? Did he really have no idea about what Sebastian was up to? Or could he and his master be in league with them? Or maybe that other guy, Neal? I mean, how did anyone not pack even know about the artifact to begin with? We kept that quiet.”
Max nodded. “We did, but not from ourselves. The Wildridge pack knew about it.”
“True, but who told them?”
“That’s a good point,” Kraft agreed. “Do you trust all of your Crimson Claw dires?”
Riley shook her head. “There are a bunch who don’t trust me, and I’m their berserker, here to protect them. A few of them also think Uncle Jack hasn’t been fighting hard enough for the pack.”
“Which is bullshit,” Max snapped. “He’s brought us all this prosperity, yet a bunch of old-school dickheads want us to go back to fighting with everyone for everything. As if working to make money is a sin.”
