Chapter Twenty
Werewolf
The sun hadn’t even fully risen, but the light was already spilling across her skin.
Demi lay half on my chest, her hair fanned out over me like fire, and her arm curled against my ribs as if she thought I might slip away if she didn’t hold on.
Christ.
I’d meant to keep my distance. Meant to protect her by keeping that wall between us. But last night? Last night I’d burned that wall to the ground.
And I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
Not when she was curled into me like she belonged there. Not when my body still thrummed with the memory of her nails clawing down my back. Her voice crying my name, and her lips swollen from every brutal, desperate kiss.
She was mine.
And I was in deep trouble because of it.
She stirred, soft against me, with a groan slipping from her lips as she blinked awake.
For a moment, she just looked at me, her hair messy and lips parted. Then she smiled, slow and sleepy. It hit me like a punch.
“Morning,” she whispered.
I grunted. “You should be running the other way right now.”
Her brow arched, and the corner of her mouth quirked. “That’s one hell of a good morning to you.”
I growled low and tightened my arm around her. “You know what I mean.”
“I know what you’re trying to say,” she corrected. “But you’re wrong.” Her fingers traced idle patterns over my chest. “I don’t want to run, Wolf. Not from you. Not from this.”
My chest ached, my throat thick. “You don’t get it,” I said. “Last night… it wasn’t just sex. Not for me. It was a claim. And once a man like me claims a woman, there’s no walking back from it.”
“Good,” she said simply.
My head jerked toward her. “Good?”
“Yes, good.” She shifted up and straddled me. Her hair fell around her face as she looked down at me like she could see every piece of me I kept locked away. “I don’t want to walk back. I don’t want to pretend this isn’t real. Because it is.”
My hands gripped her hips tight enough to bruise. My pulse roared in my ears.
“Demi…”
“Yes?” she whispered, almost daring me.
I couldn’t say it. Not yet. The words stuck in my throat. Too dangerous. Too final.
Instead, I dragged her down, kissed her hard, and poured everything I couldn’t say into her mouth.
She kissed me back just as fiercely, and for a while, nothing else mattered.
The knock on the door shattered it.
Sharp. Hard. Insistent.
I froze. Demi tensed on top of me, her eyes wide.
Another knock, louder this time. “Wolf. Open the fuck up.”
Tremor.
I swore under my breath. I shoved out of bed and dragged on my jeans and cut. Demi pulled the sheet up around her and watched me with wary eyes.
“Stay quiet,” I ordered.
She scowled. “Don’t tell me what—”
“Demi.” My voice came out sharper than I meant, edged with fear I couldn’t hide. “Please. Just stay quiet.”
Her lips pressed tight, but she nodded.
I yanked the door open. Tremor stood there with his smirk razor-sharp, and his eyes flicked past me to the bed where Demi was visible through the dim light.
“Well, well,” he drawled. “Guess claiming her wasn’t just talk.”
My body blocked the doorway. “You got something to say, say it.”
He leaned in, his grin humorless. “Word’s spreading, Wolf. You bringing her in like this, making her yours, it’s got people talking. Some don’t like it.”
“Let ‘em talk,” I growled.
His eyes glinted. “Just remember, when a man claims something in this life, he’s saying he’s willing to bleed for it. Willing to die for it. You ready for that?”
I didn’t flinch. “Yeah. I am.”
Tremor’s smirk widened, but there was still no humor in it. “Good. You better be.” He turned and walked away.
I shut the door with my pulse jackhammering in my ear and my jaw tight.
Demi sat up on the bed with the sheet clutched to her chest, and her eyes searched mine. “What did he mean?”
I dragged a hand through my hair and swore under my breath. “It means the clock’s ticking. Means people are watching us closer than ever. And it means that from now on, if someone wants to come after me, they’ll come after you too.”
Her face paled, but she didn’t look away. “Then let them.”
My chest tightened. “You don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t,” she snapped, fire flaring in her eyes. “I know what I’m risking, Wolf. I’ve known since the night I found you. And I don’t care. I’m not walking away.” Her voice cracked. “Not from you. Not from this. And not until I know the truth about Tyler.”
The weight of her words hit hard.
I sat on the edge of the bed, dragged her into my arms, and buried my face against her neck. “You’re going to get me killed, Demi.”
She held me tighter, and her lips brushed my ear. “Then I guess we go down together.”
My arms crushed her against me, and my body tried to tell her with everything I couldn’t say.
Because she was right.
There was no walking back now.
She was mine.
And I’d bleed before I let the world take her from me.
That night, I kept watch from the window. A cigarette burned low between my fingers while she slept, tangled in the sheets behind me.
Every sound in the clubhouse made my hand twitch toward the gun next to me.
When I glanced back at her, soft, vulnerable, and beautiful in a way that made my chest ache, I knew I’d made my choice.
The Broken Sons were my blood. My life. My code.
But Demi Cross was my heart.
And God help anyone who tried to take her from me.