I nod, loosening the scarf around my hair and letting it shake out over my shoulders. Next to me, I sense a faint rumble emanating from the lycan. The truck brakes abruptly. A lanky, freckled girl jogs up to the driver’s window and Axe rolls it down.
“Sorry to stop you. The boys and I were on patrol and caught a human scent at the bottom of the hill.”
He dips his head. “She’s with me.”
The young brunette scans over my bundled body. Her freckled nose wrinkles as she detects my scent, cutting her eyes back to the driver. “Copy that. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“You do the same, Gemma.”
We watch the young guard dart back into the trees. The truck pulls forward towards a carport and Axe parks it in first open space. I prop the passenger door open, shuddering at the three-foot drop. He wraps around to take my hand, making sure I don’t stumble as my feet touch the slick driveway. My breath catches as my fingers wrap around his forearm. The strange current from earlier prickles back to life.Gods, is this normal?
Axe diverts his gaze towards the house, slinging his pack over his muscular shoulder.
I try to think of something that will dull the magnetizing sensation. “Did you kill him . . . ? The one who tried to claim me?”
Axe squeezes the strap with a death grip, nostrils flaring.
Unfurling my fingers, I take a delicate sidestep. “If I didn’t say it before, well, thank you.”
His voice bottoms out. “He died like a coward, blood clogging his lungs. Begging for me to end it. But I’m not inclined to grant a clean death to scum who prey on women.”
I inhale deeply, recalling those sickening screams. Time. He was buying me time to slip away—and issuing a warning to all others who dared to intervene.
Out of thin air, a mighty gust ripples behind us, nudging me right into those strapping arms. Axe drops his pack by the tire. Maintaining our gaze, his hand splays along my spine. With him so near, I don’t need the blanket anymore; his body heat more than suffices. It's almost dizzying.
A half-smile plays on his lips as he chuckles. “How’s the view from down there?”
I raise my chin. “I’ll have you know that I'm the perfect height for kicking shins. And it may not have looked like it back in Shanoah, but my bite is just as vicious as yours.”
The ring of blue around his eyes becomes a flickering cobalt, registering the challenge. “Oh, I saw the ear job. Nicely done.”
My stomach rushes with nausea. I can still recall the copper tang of the brute’s blood on my tongue.
He cranes downwards, hovering at the intersection of my neck and shoulder. “What else are you capable of?”
The tip of his nose traces the upward curve of my neck ever so gently. He inhales slow and deep, releasing a guttural growl on the down breath. The sound startles me into jerking back—only to discover that the thick arm around my waist has locked me in. That’s when it comes to me, the warning Maurleen gave so many months ago.
Lycans are not creatures of restraint. When they first encounter their mate, the male blocks out everything but her scent, an elixir from the goddess herself. Even before they meet face to face, this overtakes him immediately, as does the desperation to get her alone. To breathe her in fully, to taste her. It's why sometimes, the claiming occurs before he even learns her name.
“Axe,” I start, squirming against him. “I-I’m not?—”
A side door facing the garage swings open. Someone calls his name.
Swearing under his breath, Axe releases me. In a blink, the look of lust is replaced with jarring apathy. “Has her room been prepared?” he asks.
The male nods. His hair is raven-black like mine, paired with light brown skin, a perfectly groomed beard, and chocolate eyes so deep they are fathomless.
"Excellent," Axe says, then turns to me. "Vessa, this is Jabir, one of my Betas.”
Jabir approaches with a grin and an outstretched hand. As I accept it, I am graced by the marvel of his smile—full lips and playful dimples framing teeth so sparkly I would easily believe that he was a prince in his home country.
"Welcome to Lupine Manor," he says. "It's been a long journey, I take it."
I fold the blanket over my arms and take my first steps inside. "You have no idea."
Together, we stroll down a long corridor until we reach the opening of the foyer, where a chandelier of golden lights and antlers illuminates a magnificent two-story dual staircase that leads to a mezzanine. To my right is a grand foyer entry, much larger than it appears from the outside. My eyes trail up to the ceiling, counting three separate levels centered by massive, dark cedar vaults. A collection of big game trophies is displayed along the enormous left wall: elk, deer, and moose. The opposite is framed with dozens of photographs in black and white—men and women on fishing and hunting expeditions, mountain landscapes, and various poses with indigenous people.
Peeking my head around the corner, I see a gathering space marked by lavish sofas and in the next room over, a formal dining room full of glowing candles, centered around a table large enough to accommodate a dozen guests. While it is silentnow in the dead of night, I imagine that during most hours of the day, this main level is busier than the backstage of a production at the Montrose National Theater.
