Page 178 of Chaos At Second Sight

Part of me hoped Archie and Makena would be mates. Or Archie’s cousin, Spencer.

The Black Devil wolves had become something of a fantasy for women here. Real warriors that trained hard and hunted for their own food.

“When are you guys going to Black Devil?” Amaia asked, legs dangling from the bed, chin resting in her hand.

“We booked our flight for the end of July. I might stay longer since they need medical help.”

Her book closed. “Why?”

“Not enough doctors. Too many patients. Archie said they’ve been rescuing several women and pups that had to leave a problematic pack.”

“What if you brought some volunteers?” Amaia asked. “Makena is already coming…” She trailed off, thinking. “I could come too. At least for a few weeks.”

“Oh, that would be amazing! I’m sure Archie would be thrilled.”

“Do we know anyone else who might be interested?”

“I could ask around…” My mind immediately went through the list. Maybe Teresa? She had no plans for the summer. She was a doctor, too.

Only potential issue? She was human. And at Black Devil, humans sat at the very bottom of the food chain.

Sending Teresa there might be the best idea I’d ever had.

Or the worst.

“I never understood your obsession with my hair.”

“Are you complaining?”

A guttural, playful sound rumbled from him, though it didn’t interrupt the trail of kisses he was placing along my neck.

“Hell no. You can touch it as much as you like, Bunny Doc. As long as you keep touching me.”

“Thought so.” I squeezed him tighter. “And what about your addiction to my neck? Should I mention all your other little habits? The list is getting longer.”

He smirked against the skin of my neck—see?—before sucking at my neck again and making me muffle a moan.

“Is that why you were screaming before? Were you telling me you are unhappy with my little habits?”

“I never said that. I like them.” Forming a coherent comeback was difficult with two hundred and fifty pounds of lycan on top of me.

“Thought so,” he teased.

We were in his bed engaged in an extreme cuddling match. His friends had gone out, while Amaia and Callum had retired for the night.

Well, almost all of his friends had gone out.

The door swung open with a bang, smacking against the wall.

The title of best friend gave Killian some confidence. Or maybe the alcohol. Either way, he had momentarily forgotten one very important rule: never disturb a lycan with his mate…especially when they were almost naked. I was wearing Logan’s boxers while he wore another pair.

Logan shot to his feet, covering me with the sheet and his body, just in case. You could never cover your mate enough was his philosophy; just last week, he’d tripped a guy for looking at me for longer than his personally approved staring limit.

“Killian! What the fuck are you doing?” The voice was so deep and thunderous I wondered if Lucien had taken over.

An intoxicated Killian staggered inside, jeans on, Hawaiian shirt hanging open, looking perfectly at home. In the doorway, a tall girl with short black curls lingered. A Comet wereball player.

“Ohh, here they are!” Killian whistled through his fingers, unaware of or simply ignoring Logan’s irritation. “You know Steffy!” He hooked an arm around the woman’s waist and dragged her forward. “She’s from Comet but”—he cupped his mouth—“shhhh! Don’t say anything! It’s a secret. The danger of sleeping with the enemy.”