IfI make the right decisions.
My first decision is to keep singing. No matter what.
A wind whistles through the grove. The earth’s quaking becomes so severe that I’m forced to grip onto a root. As I repeat the lyrics, awash in uncertainty, the soil around the pendant caves into the small indention I made in the ground and an unholy howl echoes through the sentinel trees.
Neri said that no one hears our prayers, but as I sing, I think a prayer to Loria anyway. This is the closest I will ever be to our maker, so I ask for her aid. For her guidance. To release the wolf god to my guardianship, and to shield me from any fallout from the sacred crime I know I’m committing. I’m doing this for the good of all, giving up my solitude, mylifein a sense, to tame a god and use him to the world’s advantage for a change. Surely that doesn’t deserve a harsh sentence.
In a moment of soundlessness, golden light splits the air, followed by a roar that breaks the eerie silence and screams from the trees. It isn’t a mournful cry like last night. It’s agitated.
Angry. Bitter. Restless.
As the wailing quiets, the earth stills. It isn’t until the light begins to fade that I realize its source is coming from the other side of the tree. Still singing, though my words are now more like a chant, I get to my feet and carefully maneuver over the slick snow and gnarled, hidden roots. There, in a bed of upturned soil ringed in dimming light, lies Neri, eyes open as he stares unblinking toward the sky.
My song dies in my throat. He’s no pile of bones. No rotting carcass. No animated corpse. He’s whole, his winter-pale flesh smooth as alabaster stone, flawlessly molded over his massive form.
I try not to stare, knowing I should look away from his nakedness, but he’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. His hair isn’t as long and unnaturally silky now, though still just as lovely, and just as white as his fur had been. And his ears… They no longer bear the point of a wolf but the curve of a human.
I step closer, uncertain of what to do next. When he doesn’t move, not even his chest or his eyes, my gaze drifts, searching for any sign of life.
Neri is muscled in ways I didn’t know were possible, and I’ve beheld Colden Moeshka naked and Alexus Thibault shirtless, impressive sights all their own. But Neri…
I find him beautiful in a manner I’ve never felt toward Alexus or even Colden, the kind of beauty that makes my skin irritatingly febrile and my thoughts completely irrational.
My attention lingers far too long, becoming more of an appreciative study. A specific part of his anatomy is impossible to ignore, currently sleeping heavily against the inner thigh of his right leg.
Definitely a god.
Almost as though it senses my stare, his cock twitches, and I yelp, nearly jumping out of my godsdamn skin. When Neri sucks in a loud, ragged breath, I slap my hand over my mouth, but I’m too late.
He rubs a palm across his forehead and squeezes his temples between the wide span of his middle finger and thumb. Then hechuckles. “If my cock scares you that much now, witch, you should see it when I’m rowdy.”
My skin grows even hotter with the flames of embarrassment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you don’t.” He chuckles and slowly pushes himself up from the raw earth into a sitting position. When he looks up at me, I notice the glowing amber of his eyes has dimmed to a pretty, golden brown. “Very nicely done, Miss Bloodgood.”
Gods’ stars,whyis his voice like that? Husky and deep and smooth as good liquor.
Again, I try not to stare as Neri stands. That long body unfolds like a gift in the soft morning light, muscles rippling everywhere. He runs his hands over his sinewy arms and then down his impressive torso, admiring his soul’s new home. But there’s also a glint of a question in his eyes, as though something’s missing.
My attempt at disregard fails miserably, because every naked and threatening inch of him is now on grand display, and I can’t tear my gaze away. As for the wolf, he barely notices the awe I can’t seem to hide, acting as though it’s nothing to bareeverythingbefore a woman he hardly knows.
He shakes his head and taps the heel of his palm against his ear like it’s filled with water. Then he turns a confused look on the soil that surrendered his bones and allowed him to reunite with his spirit.
Folding my arms across my middle, I finally divert my eyes to the charred grove instead of gawking at his rather remarkable backside.You are agonizingly stunning, you immortal bastard,I think to myself.Even in human form.Especiallyin human form.
And I must deal with him until I’m old and gray. Or at least until I run him off or die.
Whichever comes first.
“Stunning?” he asks. “Andagonizingly, at that?”
I whip my head around and narrow my eyes. Surely…
“You couldn’t have heard that. I didn’t say anything.”
He narrows his eyes too. “Yes, you did. I heard you. Plainly.”
“I did not,” I insist, suddenly flustered. “No words left my mouth. Not a single one.”
