Walking to where he was busy whisking eggs for an omelet, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tight. “I’m starving. I’ll eat anything right about now.”
Setting down the bowl on the butcher block countertop, Ethan turned and leveled a hot kiss on my mouth. As his touch had a way of doing, it rattled my nerves and scrambled my senses to the point of complete oblivion.
When he pulled back, Ethan smiled lazily down into my face. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“A little sore,” I confessed, “but in the best possible way.”
The man emitted a low, throaty chuckle that caused my sex to instantly clench and dampen with renewed interest. “I’m sorry about that. We can take it easy for a bit until you feel better.”
I shook my head. “Not a chance.”
He squeezed me back and we swayed together for a bit before I could smell something burning in the oven.
“The sausage is burning,” Ethan announced, kissing the top of my head before he raced off to pull the delicious smelling meat out before it became inedible.
Wandering over to the freshly baked rye bread on the counter, I snagged a slice and began to munch as I watched the beautiful man in front of me working. He was only in his boxer shorts, slung low on his chiseled hips, and it was quite the sight to behold. Tanned and toned, every time Ethan moved about, a series of ripples and bunches happened along his taut body that sent shivers of longing down mine. When he caught me staring, a bite of bread poised at my lips, a hungry expression on my face, his eyes began to smolder.
“You keep looking at me like that, Princess, and you’ll never get fed,” he vowed, placing the hot tray on a cast iron trivet to cool.
I laughed despite my embarrassment. “I’ll be good,” I promised.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ethan quipped. “You’re already too good as it is. Too good looking, smelling, and tasting for me to keep my hands to myself.”
Rolling my eyes, I popped the chunk of delicious, still warm bread into my mouth. After I finished chewing, I asked, “Can I help prepare anything for you?”
I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could do the basics and was decent at following directions.
“Nah, I’ve got it all under control,” Ethan said, coming up to me and spanning his rough, workman’s hands around my waist.
Picking me up with ease, he sat me on the edge of the counter and began to prep the eggs once more. “You can sit right there and direct me as I make your omelet.”
Works for me. I told Ethan what I wanted for my omelet: tomato, sausage, spinach, and extra cheese. As he got to work, I snacked on my seeded rye slice and glanced around the spacious kitchen in awe of the attention to detail in every nook and cranny of this beautiful home.
“This place is really amazing. My father would have loved it,” I noted without thinking.
Ethan’s motions slowed at my words. “Yeah, Calvin and I talked about it for years before I finally decided to make it a reality. A lot of time and care went into this place. I think about him whenever I look at those support beams, which he and I both agreed were a must in any rustic cabin worth its salt.”
My eyes grew dewy and the lump of bread in my mouth turned to saw dust when I considered how my dad had died.
“Ethan, I want to find out who killed my father. I want to find out exactly who they are and make them pay,” I stated emphatically, feeling an anger so strong and fierce rise up in my chest that it actually frightened me.
Ethan paused his knife and laid it next to the partially chopped spinach. “Millie, I don’t want you to worry about that. You have enough on your plate as it is. Leave the vengeance to me.”
I frowned. “Don’t worry about it? Ethan, I just learned my father was killed by a sadistic pack of shifters when I’d thought he’d died from a terrible accident. We never even had a body to bury because I was told wild animals had dragged him off somewhere in the woods to devour his corpse. I think I deserve a little vengeance of my own. Don’t you?”
“I don’t disagree. But that’s not what’s most important right now,” he bluntly returned.
“I think it is,” I countered hotly.
Folding his arms across his chest, Ethan issued me a level look. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Millie, but now that you’ve been claimed, your change is inevitable. The last thing you need to do is get mixed up in pack politics and to be on the Tupilaq’s radar. Not after everything your family did to keep you safe from them.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I crossed my own arms to mirror Ethan’s firm stance. “Why do you keep insisting I’m a shifter? This whole argument is getting tiresome, Ethan.Why can’t you accept that I might not be one despite my parents?”
Ethan’s expression hardened then. “Because I can smell it on you Millie. You will change. It’s inevitable. All it will take is the right trigger. That instinctual catalyst differs from shifter to shifter. Once you find it, you’ll know what I’m telling you is the truth.”
“My mother and father should have told me about this stuff,” I stated darkly. “But since they’re both dead, I don’t know a single thing about myself and my shifter roots.”
Looking guilty for a moment, Ethan took a beat before admitting, “I never wanted to be the one to tell you this, Millie. Calvin was supposed to speak to you about it when he took you back to our hometown in Alaska. But after what happened there, he never got a chance to explain and now I have to.”
