He drifts past me, brushing his fingers across mine. I snatch my hand away, glowering at him.
Khaos hands me a plate of food. “Go away. I need to talk to my pack.”
The verbal bitch slap packs a punch. But I’m not going to argue with him. Breakfast on my own is something I’ve been doing for the last ten years. I take the plate and walk into the lounge and sit down, marvelling at the way they have already started to leave their mark on my house. The food tastes really good, which only serves to irritate me more.
Hazard comes in and flops on the couch beside me. He picks up a piece of bacon off my plate and eats slowly, watching me with this thoughtful, enigmatic expression that makes me want to squirm.
“What?” I burst out.
“You fascinate me.”
“If you all could try not to deliver everything you say in the form of a threat, I’d appreciate it.” I barely finish the last word before he shoves a piece of bacon in my mouth.
“As prickly as a cactus. I like it when your mouth is full.”
My eyes widen and then narrow as I chew. I reach for the remote, and he tenses. I turn on the TV, and he fixates on it.
“Behave, or I’ll put it on cooking shows all day.”
He moans in despair and then rolls on top of me. It happens so fast I have no idea what to do. I just lay there panicking. I stare up at him and give him my most withering glare, hoping he can’t feel the way I’m trembling.
“Get off me.”
“Give me that.”
He tries to get the remote; I manage to just keep it out of his reach.
“Mine!” he growls.
“It’s mine.” I bite his upper arm, and he howls.
A deep, savage snarl erupts in the room. We both freeze. I look past Hazard and find Angel glaring at us in a rage so deep that I think he’s one step from destroying me.
“Mine,” Hazard snaps, but I notice he’s carefully watching his twin.
I snarl. He snarls back. I yank on the remote. He licks the side of my neck. I let go with a shriek.
“Aha, mine!” he shouts.
Hazard is yanked off me, and I freeze as Angel crawls over me, leaning down to sniff the spot where his twin licked me. Unnerving. There’s a crazed shifter with his teeth inches from my neck.
I don’t feel arousal or attraction; this isn’t a romantic story where they kiss and make out. This is a deadly, dangerous shifter who wants to kill me, and I’m trying to control every thought and feeling so I make it to the other side unscathed.
Hazard shifts into a standing position, and I see him watching with a frown, but he’s not moving to interfere.
“Just playing, Angel. She didn’t hurt me, didn’t even break the skin.”
Angel moves his head to the other side of my neck and licks an identical line to his brothers. I pant in the effort not to move. The soft, hot pressure of his tongue causes my mind to go white. All I see are his beautiful pale blue eyes. Where Hazard’s lick was playful and curious, Angel’s is pure seduction.
“Get off me,” I whisper. “Please.”
His head snaps to mine, our noses brushing, our lips millimetres apart. He smiles, but, in his eyes, all I see is rage. No part of him wants me. This is war. This is an attack, an assault.
He smells like snow, clean, pure snow. For one hideous moment, I want to bury my face in his neck and just breathe it in.
Any remaining humour dies a quick death, and I suddenly remember the danger I’m in.
Memories resurface, and I shove him with everything I have in me. He goes tumbling off me, but I’m up, jumping over him, flying past Hazard and on the other side of the room before anyone can speak.
