Page 37 of Bewitching the Wolf

Luckily, Traggar doesn’t say any more on the topic, intent now on leading us to the den. We enter, and when I see Tippy standing in the kitchen stirring a green concoction, my breath catches in my throat.

In her simple black leggings and a white t-shirt covered by an apron, her face slightly flushed and her amber eyes bright, she looks so beautiful. She smiles at Traggar, and gives me barely a nod. Her claws flex on the bench top.

“Hi Jax.” Her tone is nonchalant, casual. But my wolf senses her rapid pulse rate and picks up the shallow cadence of her breath.

Normal Jax wouldn’t have noticed, but my wolf does.

And my wolf, damn the beast, likes it. A lot.

“Hi Tip,” I says gruffly, raising my hand in a vague wave. Then, feeling stupid, I push my hand behind my neck as if my intention was always to smooth down my hair.

“Here, drop your rucksack in your room,” Traggar says.

Tearing my gaze away from Tippy, I follow Traggar through the small cozy living area. We reach an animal-skin curtain, which Traggar shifts aside, revealing a tiny room with a very large bed covered in furs. Cozy, but hardly private. “I hope you like it?”

I nod, then hiss-whisper, “Where’s Tippy sleeping?”

“On the other side of the living area.”

“Er, so her room has a skin instead of a door too?”

“It’s traditional for wolves to use goat skins only. You’ll get used to it.”

My wolf growls smugly.

Don’t even think about it, bastard.

“I’ll leave you two to get settled, then.” Traggar smiles, flashing white teeth at me, then at Tippy. And then he turns and exits through the front door. At least that’s a real door, I think. I suppose that’s something.

I dive back into my room and start feverishly unpacking.

It doesn’t take long. I’m used to wearing one color—black, the uniform of a peripheral. So other than my signature black bike leathers, there are three black t-shirts, tracksuit pants and trainers. I’d already planned on exercising during the weekend, but add in the adrenalin rush of sharing this confined space with Tippy, and I’m ready to put wings behind my heels.

I feel the bed with my hand. It’s not hard, not soft. Just… perfect. Though I doubt I’ll get a wink of sleep, knowing Tippy is just across that small space with only a couple of freakin’ goat’s skins between us.

I feel like I’ve been sweating from nerves, so I drag off my tee. I’m about to put on another when I hear a voice behind me.

“Here, drink this.”

I turn to see Tippy standing in the doorway holding up a small shot of something bright green.”

I grimace as she holds it out.

“What is it?”

“Wheatgrass.”

I see her eyes flick for to my chest for a moment, taking in my pecs. I must say, I’m happy with how my physique has filled out since my virgin shift. Even without exercising, my muscles are more defined, and rock hard.

Her gaze darkens.

My wolf decides this is the moment to flex my muscles. I see her neck move as she swallows, and a pink tinge rides her cheekbones.

Casually, I loop my hands onto my hips. “You gonna make me?” Shit. that was definitely my wolf speaking.

She tosses her head. “It’s a primer for your gut enzymes. To restore the good bacteria that vaping has robbed you of.”

“I vape into my lungs, not my stomach.”