Chapter Four #2
She’s a tiny thing for a shifter, barely reaching my shoulders. She’s lean, like she’s missed more than a few meals, and my beast doesn’t like the thought of her leaving without us feeding her.
Her sleek body reveals muscle gained only by hard work, and my hands itch to pull her under me so I can trace every curve.
I curl my hands into fists to keep from following through with the impossible impulse, grunting when I forget about my claws and they slice into my palms. When I inch closer, desperate to catch her scent, her attention snaps to me, her knife rising as she falls into a defensive stance.
She’s been trained, and I find it sexy as hell that she can defend herself. My beast is practically salivating to get his paws on her, and it’s all I can do not to provoke her just for the excuse to touch her.
She’s dangerous in a way my brain can’t seem to process.
Her golden eyes shimmer in warning—a hard look that says she’s seen shit, and she’s not afraid to rip out my heart if needed. I can almost admire that. The thought of her trying to kill me has my cock hardening, and I look down at it in disgust.
I’m not a monk, but women are a nuisance.
Fuck them once, and they start demanding things—kiss me, hold my hand, snuggle me.
Shudder.
They plead for money to buy clothes and food, constantly asking if they look pretty, greedy little creatures that will take over every aspect of your life if you let them.
Ugh…they’re exhausting.
I’m not their fucking parent or nanny.
If they want something, they can fucking get it themselves.
Something tells me that this girl is different, and maybe that’s why I have a near impossible urge to see her at least eat before she leaves.
My beast hovers right under my skin, studying her almost as hard as I am, and the sensation is uncomfortable.
My beast and I are one person. We’ve been together so long that we think the same, feel the same.
So why is my beast making googly eyes at the girl, cooing softly like he’s trying to calm her?
It’s fucking unnatural.
We’re fierce monsters, killing machines who drink the blood of our enemies.
Yet I’m careful to keep my mouth shut so I don’t accidentally flash my fangs and scare her off.
Tyler uses my distraction to push himself upright.
His eyes are a brilliant green that I haven’t seen in months, his fox close to the surface and completely healthy.
From the way his gaze caresses her, it’s obvious he’s infatuated with the girl.
It’s all I can do not to grab her arm and drag her behind me so no one can look at her but me.
That thought is frightening enough that I take a step back, suddenly suspicious that she cast a spell over us. My gaze drops to Garth, and my brows furrow when he remains frozen. “You can’t leave without releasing him.”
Her eyes flick toward the wolf, obviously reluctant to get near him.
At least she’s smart.
She side-eyes Tyler, then shrugs. “You’re the one he hurt. Are you sure you want him released?”
Tyler only blinks, unused to anyone putting his needs first. His expression softens, and I nearly roll my eyes at the sappy fucker.
He’s already pussy whipped.
It’s pathetic.
“Just leave him,” I mutter, not wanting to admit that I don’t like her attention away from me. “Once he shifts back, he’ll be fine.”
The girl glances at me dubiously, and my beast puffs up, taking offense that she would doubt us. It doesn’t matter that we lie, frequently and as often as possible, if it means getting what we want.
That’s beside the point.
The girl glances at Tyler, as if for confirmation, and I bite back a snarl. The little fucker practically preens under the attention, barely resisting a smirk in my direction, and I flash my fangs at him…which only amuses him more.
Fucking cunt.
I’m going to pound his ass during training tomorrow morning.
“He’s right,” Tyler confirms with a smile, standing slowly before he turns to fuss over the food left on the counter. “By the time I’m done cooking, he’ll be back to normal.”
He winks in her direction, a flirty smile quirking his lips, and I’m fucking pissed when I swear a blush darkens her cheeks.
That was supposed to be my blush!
My beast whines in my head, pacing restlessly that the fox is fucking flirting with her right in front of us, and I cross my arms in a huff to keep from dragging her away.
I kick away the broken chair scattered across the floor, then pull out a second chair from around the island, the one farthest from Tyler, and point to it. “Sit.”
I can’t help the alpha snarl that turns the simple word into a command.
Only the girl doesn’t obey.
My beast whines in my head like a little bitch when she doesn’t do as she’s told.
Instead, she turns toward me, crosses her arms, and raises a single eyebrow in my direction. “Excuse me?”
Her tone is deceptively soft.
Dangerous.
And damned if my balls don’t tingle at her ire.
I’m practically panting, not even bothering to be discreet as I adjust my cock. When her attention drops to my hand, watching me cup myself, it’s all I can do not to shuck my pants so she can see all of me.
My cock is a piece of art, and I spent years learning how to use it to my best advantage.
Once she’s dickmatzied, she won’t be able to resist me.
I have it decorated all fancy with tattoos and sparkling bling.
Girls find it fascinating, often worshiping it on their knees.
When she doesn’t immediately fall at my feet, I scowl and huff out an aggravated sigh. “Please.”
I don’t care that I sound like an ungrateful prick. It’s more important that she put distance between herself and the fox. She purses her lips, eyes narrowed as she surveys me, and I find myself standing up straighter…which annoys me even more.
I grit my teeth, doing my best to smile, determined to charm the chit. Unfortunately, I don’t think I pulled it off, if the way she grimaces in return is any indication.
“Go.” Tyler nudges her gently, then snatches the pan from the ground where it dropped during the struggle and places it on the stove. “Sit and watch me work.”
It’s the flirty wink he sends her that pushes me over the edge. A growl rumbles in my chest, and I glare at the cocky little shit. He won’t be laughing tomorrow when I make him run laps…while I chase his ass.
I swallow the sound abruptly when the girl does what he says, sauntering toward me with a neutral expression. But she’s looking at me. I count that as a win. When she passes in front of me, taking a seat in the chair I indicated, my beast finally relaxes.
I’m not even conscious of leaning over to sniff her hair, unbothered in the least that I’m acting like a creep.
It’s driving me wild that I can’t scent her at all.
The sweet smell of magic lingers in the air, obscuring everything.
I practically have to inhale the strands before I finally catch the delicious whiff of tangy lemons and sunshine.
The silken strands of her hair brush against my arm, and I shiver as pure lust courses through me at the contact. Thoughts of wrapping her hair around my fist, then wrapping my hand around my cock to jack myself off, fill my head, and cum leaks from my cock at the provocative image.
I’m unaware that I’m licking my lips until Tyler scowls and minutely shakes his head in warning. Fuck him. The poor bastard is just jealous. I smirk, my beast pleased that she’s within touching distance, the creature pretending that she chose us over him by taking the seat we offered.
I’m so distracted that I completely miss when her sharp elbow flies back and catches me in my diaphragm just right.
Normally, I would shrug off such a simple blow, but she put so much power behind it that air whooshes out of my lungs in a rush.
A grunt leaves me as I stumble back, and nearly a full minute passes before I can take a wheezing breath.
Maybe I should be pissed, but I’m even more fascinated by the woman.
Her scent is fucking delicious, and my fangs—like my erection—won’t go away, leaving me like an adolescent boy scenting his first pussy.
My fascination is dangerous. The logical side of me wants to fling her out the door, lock it, and wash my hands of her. My baser urges want me to toss her on the island, strip her bare, and feast on her cunt until she’s begging for mercy.
I’m a manwhore, I admit it, often going where my dick points, but I’ve never had such a stark reaction to a woman. My beast is practically panting over the bitch.
I don’t like the switch in roles.
It’s my job to leave the woman wanting more, not the other way around, and it makes me even more wary of her…but not enough to demand she scram.
She did save Tyler—twice, if what he said is to be believed. I refuse to owe anyone a favor, so I suck it up and keep my mouth shut. It has nothing to do with the thought of her leaving hungry and vulnerable, and I quickly banish that disturbing thought.
Emotions, especially feelings for the opposite sex, only lead to trouble.
I smother my concern for the girl, refusing to feel anything for her but apathy. After supper, she will be out the door, and we will never see her again.
I rub my chest when my beast hisses in displeasure, then he slams shut the connection between us, leaving me alone in my own head for the first time since puberty. It feels like half my senses vanish, leaving me cut off and adrift, like a drunk trying to walk a tightrope.
I glare at the girl, placing the blame right where it belongs—on her.
Just as I surmised, she’s already spreading chaos into our lives.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re never the same again.