“Just a… line.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping to my lips for a quick moment. I sucked in a breath. That look. That same look he had given me at the lockers earlier. That look that made my lips tingle, that made me feel this weird feeling that all she-wolves being pursued by alphas must feel.
After another moment, he pulled down his shirt and stood. “Still up to no good, Isabella.”
“Always up to no good, Roman.”
Chapter 3
Roman
Sunlight flooded in through the windows behind my desk, hitting one of the hundred used pages in my journal. My pencil glided across a piece. Each line I drew imitated Isabella’s curves almost perfectly. I had sketched her so many times, but nothing like this.
Nothing with her naked. Nothing with her fingers in her pussy. Nothing with her eyes closed in utter bliss. Nothing like what I had seen last night.
Her vanilla scent still lingered on my clothes, and I could feel her fingers curled into my chest. I loved the way she had stared at me with those big blue eyes when I walked into her room, but I loved the way she had smiled at me when I teased her about the little childhood love-bite she left on me more.
I couldn’t control myself last night. I needed to have a taste of her, needed to see how she felt in my hands. She had been driving me crazy for months. I put myself through pure torture watching her touch herself and listening to her moan. I knew that I shouldn’t. I knew that it was wrong.
Someone knocked on my door, and I scrambled to close my journal. My beta, Cayden, peeked his head into the room. “Ryker’s here to see you.”
I stood up, clenched my jaw, and nodded. Ryker, the asshole leader of the Lycans, was here to talk my ear off for the next hour about rogues and about how he needed more people to join his team of warriors to fend them off.
“Listen,” I said, locking the maroon leather journal in my desk. “Whatever he says, do not bring up Isabella.”
Cayden furrowed his eyebrows. “But—”
“Do you understand me, Cayden? No mentioning her name,” I said, hardening my stare.
He bowed his head and disappeared into the hallway. A few moments later, Cayden and Rykerappeared at my door.
I plastered a fake smile on my face and shook his hand. “Ryker, what brings you here?”
“Roman,” Ryker said, sitting across from me. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.” I bet it was. He leaned back in his seat. “Rogues are more rampant than ever. I’m here to recruit the strongest warriors from every pack in the area to join the Lycans.”
“I thought I already told you that the group of trainees coming out of high school doesn’t have as much potential as my previous years.” I gazed into the thin file on my desk that had the name of every senior graduating this year, except Isabella’s and handed it to him. “You can look through it… but I doubt there will be anyone that suits your needs.”
Lie.
Ryker took the file, sat back, and crossed his arms over his chest. Tattoos of Moonflowers, the official flower of our Moon Goddess, covered his forearms. Each one represented a rogue he killed to help keep the werewolf packs safe. Each one was a reason that I didn’t want him to know about Isabella’s superior abilities.
“All of our wolves are average,” I said.
Lie. Lie to protect her from joining a group of Lycans who fought against blood-thirsty, handsy, filthy rogues every day. Lie to protect her from him.
After placing the file back down on my mahogany desk, Ryker kicked one ankle onto his knee and locked his hands together. “Which one is the most skilled fighter?”
I gazed at Cayden and shook my head. “Derek, probably.”
Another lie.
My sister Jane walked into the room. “Derek? Hell no. Isabella kicks his ass every day in gym class.”
“Why aren’t you at school, Jane?” I asked through clenched teeth. She was going to ruin everything for me. Everything that I worked so hard to hide for the past three years.
Ryker gazed at her, his eyes lingering on her hips. I growled under my breath. What a fucking pig. It disgusted me the way he looked at any women, especially after the rumors of what he did to Michelle—hissupposedmate.
I stood up from my desk and hurried to her, snatching her by the elbow. “What would Mom and Dad think about you skipping school?” I asked, trying to talk some sense into her.
