An incident that included a dead bride.
And now they want me to be the next in line to fill that vacancy.
Fucking cowards.
All of them.
Enough, Roman roars.
The shift of my form happens so fast. One moment I’m a wolf, the next … The smoke that shatters around me slices my skin in a fiery abrasive way. Worse than that…I’m wet. The thin mating gown clings warmly to my skin. I’m drenched from head to toe when my bare feet meet the cold rock floor.
My fingers stick to one another, thick goop sliding down my skin in a gagging sensation that makes me do just that.
I turn this way and that before bumping into a hard shoulder that is just so arrogantly unmoving, I know it’s him.
“What—what am I covered in?” I stare up at the shadowed space where I imagine those cruel condescending eyes to be.
A huff of a laugh shakes out of him and fans along my disgustingly damp cheek. Steady fingertips push back my slick hair, and when it tucks behind my ear, it’s pure nasty stickiness.
Please don’t be cum. Please don’t be cum. Please don’t be cum.
“My mucus, beautiful.”
My throat constricts with a heaving I can’t repress. It shoves against my chest with every gag I cough out.
“Oh. My. Fucking. Goddess.” My stomach lurches once more, but even in my sickness, I still can’t help the anger that rises above it all.
“You should count yourself lucky,” he adds with a snicker that throws me into action.
My nails dig into hard shoulders. I bring him down in one swift turn kick. But I don’t let him go that easily. I’m on top of him in a flash of speed. My knuckles are so covered in his fucking bodily fluid that the punches slap right off the hard edges of his face.
I can’t see him.
But I hear his discomfort. And that’s all that motivates me to keep going. With every grunting groan, I slam my fist down all over again.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until several hands grab my hips.
I’m hauled off of him. My back collides with smooth skin, and those strong hands continue to hold me in place against hischest. Even if I’m not struggling to fuck up that pretty face any longer.
I feel good. It feels good to finally release all the rage I’ve been pushing down within myself for so damn long.
It’s freeing.
It’s ecstasy.
Until Rome laughs. An amusement tinged with breathless pain kisses the darkness, and he just—why does he piss me off without saying a Goddessdamn word?
“You’re cute when you’re murderous, beautiful,” the jerk grunts as he stands, his warmth coming close enough to infuriate me all over again.
Only when I stop trembling with fury do the arms around me slowly slide down my arms, my wrists, ever so gently over my tightly held fists. It’s like he steals away my anger with that hypnotic touch that shivers down deep into my core.
I just know it’s Avian. It’s his calming caress.
