As soon as we’re out of the bar and making our way down the street, he drops my arm like it disgusts him.
“What is your problem? He gave us our real first lead.”
“He was goading me,” Silas says, his shoulders tense and he seems even more on edge than earlier. “Fuck,” he says in a raised voice.
“What?”
“We need to go somewhere private. Now.”
“Why?” I ask, wondering how the normally composed Alpha before me seems to be losing his shit.
“Thorin is demanding to be let loose. I clearly can’t do that here.”
“Aren’t you the one in control?”
“Violet,” he says my name in an irritated tone, his eyes glowing again as he looks down at me. “Please, for once, stop questioning me.”
I point across the street at the closest hotel. “We can see if they have any vacancy.”
“Quickly,” he rumbles.
The inside is nice, though the street noise is insanely loud. A complete juxtaposition from the silence of my home.
Silas is nearly vibrating next to me as I smile at the hostess. She looks at Silas like he might be on something, but she’s respectful enough.
“Hello, I was hoping you had two rooms for the night.”
“We have one,” she says and I groan.
But as I look over at Silas, I know we’re running out of time. He pulls out his wallet and slaps his card in my hand.
Well, that’s not attractive at all.
“We’ll take it,” I tell her with a smile as she books us for the night and hands me the keys. I swear Silas looks like he wants to rip her throat out when she goes over the Wi-Fi and breakfast options and busts out a map of New Orleans, giving us that true Louisiana hospitality.
“Have a lovely stay,” she says.
I have to jog, yet again, to keep up with Silas. I glide the key over the door handle and it whirls. I step inside, loving the history of the room. They’ve preserved a lot of the fireplaces and brick walls, the same with the iron banisters out the window.
There’s nothing to be done about the noise outside, but it’s a place to rest our head for the night.
When I turn around, Silas is tugging at his shirt over his head, basically showing off his big man chest. Right before my eyes, I watch him shift. His clothes rip loudly as his skin ripples into fur, and the large brown wolf I now know as Thorin takes his place.
Chapter 17
That motherfucker dared to touch my mate.
In front of me.
I’ve shoved the man so deep into our consciousness he’s nearly scratching my mental walls trying to be present.
I want to leave this hotel, barrel down the streets of New Orleans, and rip his greedy little throat out. Then I want to shift back and force the man to claim our mate so that no one will ever dare to touch what’s ours again.
Foolish fucking deluded Silas.
Has he not seen our mate? Of course, she’ll attract any hot-blooded male who approaches her. We might be tethered together by her magic, and by the circuit courts. But it’s not enough, it will never be enough.
We need our mark on her, our claim on her.
