Page 35 of His to Hunt

“So, do you have a car or something? How are we going to get there?” I ask, picking up my purse. “I’m assuming you don’t have a bus pass.”

“I told Saul to send us a car. It should already be waiting outside,” he answers, walking to the stairs. “Let’s go.”

I follow him up the stairs and outside. To my surprise, there’s a black Land Rover sitting in the driveway. It doesn’t look out of place in this neighborhood, but I’ve never been inside one. He walks over to it while I lock up. When I catch up, he’s already holding the keys.

“You can just have a Land Rover delivered?” I ask, following him to the passenger side. “Saul just rented this for you?”

“No, little girl,” he chuckles, opening the passenger door. “This is yours. But when I’m with you, I’m driving. Hop in.”

My brain short circuits and I climb inside before it registers. I turn to say something, but he slams the door, so I have to turn toward the driver’s side to wait for him.

“You bought me a car!?” I sort of shriek, my jaw dropping.

I try to calculate how many shifts it would take me to afford the monthly payment on one of these and give up immediately. I don’t even own any furniture that wasn’t donated, and now there’s a Land Rover in the driveway with my name apparently floating around it. I already feels this is happening too fast, but I don’t think my mind moves at fated mate speed.

“Technically, I think it’s an SUV,” he smiles, adjusting the seat before he climbs in, his large frame filling the space. “You need a way to get around. I don’t. And while I’d love to let you ride on my back, I don’t think we’re there yet.”

“Um, no…” I mumble, shaking my head. “You mean, like… when you’re a wolf?”

“Yes, when I’m in my human form, the only thing you have to ride is my cock,” he smirks, starting the engine. “Fasten your seatbelt. You’re a lot more breakable than I am.”

My core clenches because I immediately picture myself straddling his waist. I shake it off and fasten my seatbelt. I’m glad I do because he pulls out of the driveway and hits the accelerator like we’re on the interstate instead of in the middle of suburbia.

“Whoa!” I say. “Slow down. There are kids around here.”

“I could drive this thing through a forest at a hundred miles an hour and never hit a tree,” he assures me.

“Yeah, well… the neighbors will still flip the fuck out!” I retort, as he takes a corner so fast the SUV tilts on two tires.

“Fine,” he mutters, letting it coast when it returns to having all four wheels on the ground. “I guess I’ve already traumatized them enough.”

“You think? You couldn’t like, drag them away or… I don’t know, get rid of the bodies?” I ask hesitantly.

“If I’d been more patient, sure,” he growls. “I wasn’t.”

I don’t know if this is the mating bond, or just because my world is so unraveled, but I find it kind of hot that he protected me. Nobody has really done that before. Joe wasn’t all talk. Not based on what I found when I looked him up online. I could have very easily been his next victim. Frank and Melinda could have been killed, too.

“Do you kill people like that regularly?” I ask. “Bad people?”

“It’s what Silver Pack does,” he replies. “For the last year, we’ve been dealing with a group of assholes. A motorcycle club called the Devastators MC. They trafficked women until we put a stop to it.”

I’m still processing it. Still allowing the pieces to fall into place. This would have been absurd before I cast that spell, before he showed up and proved the curse my grandmother used to talk about wasn’t just the ramblings of an old woman.

“So, wolf shifters… or at least Silver Pack, you’re like… superheroes?” I tilt my head slightly.

“No, not superheroes,” he grins. “We’re just trying to do a little good in this world. We have too much blood on our hands—or claws—to ever be heroes.”

“Well… you’re my hero,” I reply, glancing over at him, a genuine smile tugging at the edges of my lips. The smile quickly disappears. “So far.”

“I’ll never do anything to hurt you,” he says, reaching over and taking my hand. “Well, I will definitely spank you when you need it.”

“A hero who spanks me: awesome,” I say flatly, rubbing my fingers against his, remembering the stinging heat and how wet I was.

“A mate who makes sure you don’t act like a foolish little girl,” he corrects me with a sly grin on his handsome face, interlocking his fingers with mine.

I’ve made plenty of foolish decisions that should have come with a stern reprimand, like I used to get from my grandmother. I’m sure I’ll make more foolish decisions, too. Knowing there might be a consequence is not only a little comforting, but I might not hate it as much as I should. Or maybe that’s just the mating bond.

“Saul said he’ll meet us at that café up ahead,” he tells me, gesturing to it.