The fuck?
“Pssst, Frankie.”Wolf paws through the bedding, searching.
A smaller form pops up and slips from beneath the sheets.A woman.Her movements are soft and elegant as she whispers to Wolf, too low for me to hear.She’s naked, too, her silhouette barely lit by the hallway light.
As she walks past him, he stops her and offers a robe.She takes it, sliding it on like she’s done this a thousand times.
Then she notices me.
Her eyes bulge, round and startling green, as she gasps.“Wolf!Did you get married?”
Chaos.
The bed explodes with motion.Sheets fly.Bodies scramble.A second man stumbles out.Then a third.A fourth?
No.
Definitely three men.
All of them knee-weakenly gorgeous.
All of them naked.
Given the suffocating reek of sex and testosterone, I can only assume they just shared that tiny redhead like a hedonistic fever dream.
Lucky girl.
Meanwhile, I hover half in the hall, half in the room, gaping like an idiot in my rain-soaked wedding gown.
Boxers and pajama pants materialize, and within seconds, all the dicks are covered.
Wolf flicks on the light and pushes me back into the room.“Okay, so… This is Dove.”
Everyone stares.
“She’s not my wife,” he adds quickly.“She ran away from her wedding.Long story.She needs a place to crash.I’m putting her in the guest house, but I wanted you to know so you don’t freak out.”
They are definitely freaking out.
The terrifying one—dark eyes, darker mood—doesn’t say a word.He just grunts and glares, arms folded across a chest full of scars, radiatingnope.
Wolf follows my gaze.“That’s my brother, Kody.Technically, my uncle.He’s harmless.Unless you touch hiswoman,”he says in an ape-man voice.
“You make a beautiful bride.”The woman offers me a small, sleepy smile.“Probably not what you want to hear.You look like you had a day and lived to fight another.You okay?”
She looks younger than me.Impossibly delicate.Almost childlike.With the most direct, soul-piercing eye contact I’ve ever experienced.
Uncomfortable, I look away, colliding with the mismatched eyes of a Viking.He leans against the wall, scratching the scar on his abdomen.His pants hang so low I can see Valhalla.Zero shame, this guy.
“You dragged a runaway bride into our lair.”He tsks.“Bold.”
“I’ll go.”I back away and bump into Wolf’s chest.
“Apologize, bonehead.”Frankie pinches the underside of the Viking’s bulging bicep, making him hiss.
“That’s Leo,” Wolf says at my ear.“Don’t engage.”Then he adds, “He’s my least favorite brother.Technically, my cousin.”
“I’m Monty.”The older one offers a hand, squints at his extended fingers with a wrinkled nose, and yanks his hand away before I can touch it.
