She wasn’t glass. She wasn’t so weak she’d break.
He showed her in his motions that he wouldn’t.
As the pleasure spiraled up through her gut, she clung to him. It tightened, bursting apart.
Giuliana Moretti had finally been claimed.
Chapter Nineteen
The sun filtered into the bedroom through partially open blue shades, and Giuliana figured she wouldn’t be sleeping anymore. The unfortunate thing about her job as Enforcer was, she was used to being up at the crack of dawn to work. Even on days she really wanted to sleep in, she didn’t seem to get much further than nine a.m. no matter what she did. She peered at the clock beside Pasquale’s bed. Well, at least it seemed she’d made it closer to ten.
She could be thankful for that.
Giuliana reached out for her mate and found the other side of the bed empty. She supposed he wasn’t exactly one to sleep the day away. Too bad. She was really looking forward to “good morning” sex. It would have been nice.
She stretched, joints popping as they realigned. A dull ache in her shoulder made her smile. Her healing abilities notwithstanding, a mating bite was going to hurt until it healed all the way. She placed her fingers over it, sensing the heat of Pasquale’s claim slipping up from it.
She wasn’t no longer a single wolf. That was … sort of crazy to even think of. But it was what it was. She sat up slowly, her legs still a bit weak from Pasquale’s attentions the night before. She’d have to make sure to be careful when she stood up.
After a moment, she sent out her senses to see who may be around. The wolves she’d begun to recognize as Pasquale’s unofficial Enforcers were hovering around in the front yard, and someone was in the house.
Fabiana.
The scent didn’t bother her like it had before. Knowing Fabiana had been a victim as much as Giuliana made her want to get to know her mate’s sister. Giuliana got into the shower and dressed, hoping the wolf wouldn’t leave. When she was finished, she put on a pair of leggings and willowy peasant top. It felt good to be back in her regular clothing. Without a mission, she didn’t have to be so militant.
Giuliana followed her nose to find where Fabiana was in the house.
When she found her, Fabiana was standing in front of an easel with paint all over her fingers in a wide-open room full of bright windows. But that’s not what made Giuliana freeze. No. It was the scarred wolf with reddish-black fur taking up most of the picture standing next to an unfinished woman with blazing red hair.
“Why are you painting her?”
Fabiana gasped and spun around, tripping over the drop cloth. Giuliana snapped forward, keeping the painting and its creator from falling to the floor.
Fabiana sucked in a steadying breath. “Thank you.”
Giuliana heard her, but up close, the painting had her mesmerized. The fur of the wolf almost looked real, as if it could leap of the canvas in an instant. Giuliana lifted hesitant hands toward it.
“Don’t. It isn’t dry.”
Caught, Giuliana lowered her hands and stepped away from Fabiana. “I’m sorry. She …”
Fabiana frowned. “You know her.”
Maybe. “I don’t know. I saw a wolf in Scorched Earth when we went to get Kalinda, but things got crazy and I didn’t get to find it.”
Her eyes were once more drawn to the woman with bright-red hair Even unfinished, she was almost afraid to look away. She knew the gentle swell of that cheek. The way her dark-green eyes snapped with fire. Her hair, odd for their people—
Their people?
“You know her.”
Fabiana seemed to speak without questions. By studying people and situations, generally spoke in statements. She cocked her head to the side and locked her gaze on Giuliana.
“I don’t know. It’s … a memory.”
“That’s a first. Most of the time when I paint, I get told I’m crazy. Or my father would destroy them.”
“Your father was a dick.”
