I slapped them away, panting. They let go a moment later, almost saying, “Fine. Go. But we could trap you if we wanted to.”
I focused on my infuriating mate and those beautifully shocked eyes that hadn’t wavered from me since my appearance. My gaze roamed his face, from the bruise beneath his left eye to the spider-web-like crack in the corner of his mouth. His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile.
My breath caught, then shuddered free, as if unwilling to part with his scent.
A heartbeat later, the steel gray in his eyes shifted, melting into liquid metal. Bright, glinting with a message that my heart readily understood.
That awakened something ferocious in me.
It didn’t matter who was watching, whose eyes were burning holes in my back, whose voice was bellowing my name from the chaos. Didn’t matter that my phone was buzzing.
I grabbed the nape of his neck, a fist tangling in the fluffy hair that my fingers recalled from our first kiss, claws scraping his scalp, and I yanked his face to mine.
My mouth crashed against his like a meteor hitting Earth.
Rudolph had been wrong, so very wrong.Iwas the one who had gone hunting.
Our teeth bumped, lips fused, tongues dueled. Our own sort of post-game war.
His moan—low, deep—brittled me.
My claws pierced the flesh meant for my teeth (and mark) to keep him in place. Blood salted my tongue.
We broke only when breath became survival.
Our noses and foreheads continued to kiss, still pressed together, while the sparks electrocuted the tiny space we allowed between us. He tipped my head up, making me look into his fiery gaze. My face caught fire in turn, and he leaned down to kiss the tip of my nose.
That was when I heard it.
“Hello, Bunny Doc.”
CHAPTER 34
SOMEONE
Werewolves say wereball is violent.
The events after the match are no less bloody. Maybe worse. Anything can happen in the post-game, when the adrenaline is still howling under the skin and claws are itching to settle scores.
But not rejection.
Not there.
Not anywhere.
Why did I do it, then?
Because I was busy chasing something bigger than love and a soulmate.
Because my life’s goals didn’t have room for another heartbeat next to mine.
Because the world demanded sacrifice for a greater purpose. For research. For the common good.
My goals were crystal clear, like freshly filtered water.
The second our eyes met, everything I’d built—every plan, every wall, every promise I’d made to my dying parents—collapsed.
When my eyes got lost in that syrupy golden gaze, recognition hit my brain, producing an indelible tattoo of every detail of his angular face. Sparks burned logic to ash, and I couldn’t let that happen.
