“I uhh…forgot to feed my…cat.”
He groans as I wink at him, but he won’t question me. Not in the presence of the pack.
I don’t stick around to see who bears the brunt of his irritation. Probably Kitty, if I had to guess. She’s the only other person who’s had as much practice as me.
“Oh, almost forgot.” I double back to stand before the room. “I claim Iris Ashbourne as my unmated partner from this day until I shall relinquish such claim.”
I speak the words as I’ve heard them before, and I know they’ve worked when the steady hum of magic pulses in response. It moves through the room like a wave, etching my decree into the pack bonds and tying her to us.
As I exit, Dame glares at me, arms crossed, face barely hiding his shock, while beside him, Kitty beams, practically bouncing in her chair, and in the back of the room, I spot Deacon sitting stone-faced.
What an idiot. He really thought he had a chance.
* * *
She’s late.
We agreed on midnight.
It’s now ten past. Which I normally wouldn’t mind. But the longer I sit here, the more I wonder why I agreed to meet her here in the first place. She knows I hate it in here.
It smells like dust and wet paper, with a faint tinge of desperation.
You’d think people would have something better to do than sit crammed inside an old building that smells like glue on a Monday night. But here they are, hunched over their books, muttering under their breath.
And here I am, glancing at the clock every few seconds.
Rationally, I know it’s only been about twenty minutes since I sat down. Irrationally, it feels like hours have passed before she sweeps through the towering double doors.
I smell her before I see her—that signature blend of honey and smoke. It clogs my senses as I watch her breeze past the drooling onlookers.
Hells. Do they have no shame?
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m staring too. It’s hard not to when she looks like that.
Iris is, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. From her round nose down to the tips of her long, sleek braids, there isn’t a single thing about her that isn’t worth staring at for hours.
She’s slender, but full in all my favorite places, and she’s so effortlessly sexy I understand the urge to watch her every step. But I know firsthand how their eyes weigh on her.
My teeth grind as the scent in the room shifts with the arousal of her many admirers, and I stand on instinct, meeting her halfway and tucking her under my arm.
I press a kiss to the top of her head and watch with a deep satisfaction as their eyes find something else to gawk at.
“You’re late, princess.”
She arches a brow, and her lip curls.
“And did you die?” she asks.
“I don’t know, maybe. Can you feel this?”
I pinch her ass, and she yelps, causing a few more heads to turn.
“Huh.” I shrug. “Guess not.”
She swats at me with the small stack of books in her hand, and I catch it, wrenching them free to leaf through them.
There’s a copy of Ten Thousand Trees tucked between two beat-up paperbacks by Carlisle Crescent, and I hold it out, shaking my head.
