No one moved.
“AND CLEAN YOUR FUCKING NOSTRILS OF MY MATE’S SCENT.”
It was full alpha voice. Power and command ringing through every syllable. Even the king raised his eyebrows, though whether in surprise or approval, I couldn’t tell.
That did it.
“You heard my son,” a deep voice rumbled. The king was moving toward the door, his hand on the back of a gorgeous woman with silver-streaked dark hair. The queen, presumably. “Come on, hurry. Or we’ll witness a scene we’ll never forget. Not in a good way.”
The room emptied.
Wolves filed out with impressive speed. Some cast curious glances at me, others very deliberately not looking. I saw the expressions shifting on their faces as they passed. Hunger, quickly suppressed. Curiosity, carefully hidden. Recognition of the primal thing I was broadcasting.
My scent. I was putting out pheromones they could all smell.
It would be mortifying if I weren’t so focused on the man holding me.
Now that the immediate crisis was fading and the pain was manageable, I found myself wanting to observe. To catalog. These were Caelan’s people. His family. His world.
I caught glimpses as they left. Patt, still looking bewildered. Aedan, relief flooding his features now that he was no longer about to be murdered. Thessa, her expression a complicated mix of worry and amusement.
And then...
A woman.
Around my age, maybe a year or two younger. Beautiful, in a cold way. Brown hair cascading over her shoulders, pale skin, piercing brown eyes. She wasn’t leaving with the others. She was standing near the door, staring at me with an expression of pure, undisguised hostility.
Who the hell was that?
Before I could ask, Thessa grabbed the woman’s arm.
“Come on,” Thessa said, her voice clipped. Not polite at all. “Now.”
“But...”
“NOW, Vix.”
Thessa yanked her through the door. She paused, caught my eye.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said softly. Then, to Caelan: “Don’t fuck this up more than you already have.”
I watched them go, confusion momentarily overriding the heat pulsing through my body. Who was that? Why was she looking at me with such hatred? Why did Thessa have to drag her out?
But then Caelan’s mouth found my neck, and all other thoughts evaporated.
“I should have been there,” he was murmuring against my skin, between kisses. “I should have come back. I should have checked on you.”
“You were fighting a war.”
“You matter more.”
“Your father was under attack...”
“You matter more.” His hands were sliding under my shirt, palms hot against my bare skin. “You will always matter more. I almost lost you because I was too focused on politics and battles.”
“You didn’t lose me.” I threaded my fingers through his hair, tilted my head to give him better access to my throat. “I’m right here.”
“You could have died.”
