Chapter 5
Boaz
Red eyes stared at him from the darkness. Boaz tried to scramble away, panic clawing at his chest, but strong arms locked around him, dragging him against a hard, warm chest.
“Don’t move,” the voice murmured against his ear, low and dark.
The command sent a shiver through him.
Then he felt them. Fangs brushing against the side of his neck.
For a split second the touch was almost gentle, ghosting over his skin, before the sharp points sank in.
Heat exploded through him, the pain twisting into something dangerously pleasurable. A rush of fire spread from the wound, racing through his veins until his entire body felt like it was blazing from the inside out.
Boaz gasped and jolted awake. His heart slammed violently in his chest as his hands shot out, grasping empty air.
His eyes snapped toward the rocking chair across the room. For one terrifying second, his pulse stuttered as he half expected to see the vampire sitting there in the shadows… watching him.
But the chair was empty.
Boaz sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. Then he shifted under the covers and froze. His cock throbbed painfully, tenting the sheets. He stared down at it in horror.
“Fucking hell,” he said hoarsely.
Dragging a hand down his face, he shoved the covers aside and swung his legs out of bed. Sleep was clearly impossible now. He headed straight for the back door, already reaching for his wolf.
The shift came over him the moment he stepped outside. Bones cracked and slid violently out of place. Muscles stretched and twisted beneath his skin, reshaping themselves. Exhilaration surged through him as his wolf pushed forward.
Moments later, a large black wolf hit the ground running, disappearing into the forest. Boaz surrendered completely, letting his wolf take control.
The mindless sprint through the trees dulled his thoughts, each pounding step against the forest floor driving the nightmare from his mind. For a while, there was nothing but the wind in his fur and the damp earth beneath his paws.
As dawn crept over the horizon, the sky softened into pale streaks of orange and yellow. Mist hung low between the trees, curling around trunks and drifting lazily over the forest floor. And his wolf finally turned toward home.
When he stepped into the cabin, he felt relaxed. He dressed quickly, pulling on his worn work clothes, then grabbed his hat from the hook beside the door. There was no point wasting the cool morning hours. The sun would climb fast, and the fields would turn hot before long.
On his way down the path, he passed pack members heading in the same direction—tools slung over their shoulders, woven baskets ready to gather the tea leaves that were ripe for harvest.
Boaz paused at the edge of the hill for a moment, letting his gaze sweep across the rolling fields.
Rows of tea shrubs stretched across the gentle slopes. Beyond them lay wide meadows scattered with wildflowers
He breathed in deeply, glad most of the pack had come out to work not letting what happened with the vampire last night ruin their day.
Boaz offered a few quiet greetings before veering toward the far side of the land, where the rows stretched out with fewer people nearby. He preferred working alone, with only the wind and the rustle of leaves for company.
The others didn’t question it. They knew he liked his solitude, and they respected it.
The day wore on in its usual rhythm. They worked through the morning, broke for lunch beneath the shade of the trees, and when the sun climbed too high and the heat turned too hot, the fields were abandoned.
Like he always did, Boaz slipped away to the meadow with his paints.
The tall grass swayed lazily in the breeze, wildflowers nodding in patches of color around him.
He set up beneath his favorite tree and let himself sink into the slow, peaceful glide of his brushes, blending colors on his canvas as he captured the wild beautiful land around him.
He planned to give the painting to Lyla tonight.
The thought sent a nervous energy thrumming through his veins. Boaz shoved the feeling away. He had to do it. He had to ask her out. Tell her how he felt. Let her know his intentions.
By evening, Boaz packed up his supplies and headed back to his cabin.
Inside, he cleaned up quickly, scrubbing away the day’s work, then dressed with more care than usual.
He pulled on his best shirt and a pair of well-fitted pants. The flannel hugged his broad shoulders and chest, the fabric stretching slightly over his muscles. The pants sat just right, giving him a clean, put-together look he rarely bothered with.
He ran his hands through his curly hair, trying to tame it, then glanced at himself in the mirror.
He looked… presentable.
Hopefully good enough to win Lyla’s heart, Boaz thought walking to the painting rested on an easel, still drying.
His plan for the night was simple. He’d ask her to come with him to his cabin. Show her the painting. And then, he’d tell her how much he liked her.
Boaz exhaled slowly, his chest tightening with a mix of anticipation and nerves.
Fuck.
“You can do this,” he muttered under his breath as he walked out of his cabin, heading to the barn where the pack gathered and shared meals most nights. The thick smell of roasted meat and fresh bread filled his nose as he stepped in.
Boaz kept his head low as he moved past the long, crowded tables. He slipped toward the back, where the food was being prepared, where he knew she would be.
And there she was.
He hadn’t seen her all day, and now she was right there before him. Her head was tilted to the side as she laughed at something someone said. She looked… so beautiful.
And suddenly, he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore.
“You can do this,” he told himself again as he dragged his palms down the front of his pants, trying to wipe away the nervous sweat.
Then he stepped toward her. But before he could take another step, a sudden commotion at the door cut through the noise, pulling everyone’s attention.
“Oh my God,” Lyla mouthed, her eyes widening.
Boaz turned to see what had caught her attention.
And froze. He forgot how to breathe.
Standing in the doorway was the vampire. A bouquet of flowers rested on his arm.
Gone were the loose robes and wild, untamed hair.
In their place were fitted dark jeans that hugged his thighs, a crisp white shirt that looked as though it had been stolen from some medieval prince’s wardrobe.
The fabric looked soft and expensive, pulled taut across his chest. And his hair was trimmed, each strand gleaming under the light.
He should have looked absurd. Out of place. Like a king dragged out of a fantasy.
But he didn’t. He looked…gorgeous.
Fuck. Why the hell was am I noticing that?
Boaz looked away, and focused on Lyla. He had to speak to her before the vampire could even take a step inside.
The scent of food grew heavier as he approached. People moved in every direction, talking over each other, unaware of the war raging in his chest.
“Hey, Lyla,” Boaz called, raising his voice enough for her to hear him over the noise. She glanced up at him, her face lighting up. “Can we talk?”
“Uhm…” she said looking around her, and then she pointed down at the food she was dishing out, her attention already moving again.
Boaz followed the gesture, his gaze sweeping over the barn. The long tables were filling fast, hungry werewolves settling in waiting for their food. There was no way she was stepping away anytime soon.
“Need any help?” he asked, a little louder now.
“Yeah,” she said eagerly, flashing him another quick smile as she pressed a heavy dish of mashed potatoes into his hands. “Table three,” she added, nodding toward the far end.
Boaz moved quickly, weaving through the crowd, careful not to jostle the dish as he set it down where she’d indicated. When he returned, another plate was pushed into his hands. Then another. And another.
By the time the last dish was set down, everyone was digging in and Boaz had barely said two words to Lyla. He looked around the barn for her and stopped short when he spotted her. Next to her was… Alexander.
Somehow, in the chaos, the vampire had claimed the seat next to Lyla’s and those damn flowers were resting beside her like a quiet declaration.
Boaz’s jaw tightened at the sight; a wave of anger twisted in his stomach. He forced it down as he moved to the only empty chair left at the table, which was directly across from Alexander.
He would have preferred to sit next to Lyla, but this… this would have to do. He pulled the chair back and sat, his entire focus on Lyla.
“How was your day, Lyla?” he asked. The moment the words left his mouth, he winced.
Was that really the best he could do?
“Oh… my day was… okay, I guess.” She made a face, like she couldn’t quite decide how she felt about it, then quickly scooped a bite of food into her mouth.
Boaz nodded before forcing himself to speak again.
“I missed you in the meadow today,” he said as he scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
“Oh…yeah,” she replied, chewing. “I always feel like I’m disturbing you when you’re painting.”
“Not at all,” Boaz said quickly. “You make everything look beautiful."
Lyla blinked, caught off guard. A faint blush crept across her cheeks. “I do?”
Boaz leaned forward unable to help himself. “Yeah. The flowers in the meadow seem brighter when you’re there… and the birds…” he laughed almost embarrassed by his own words, “…they sound better too.”
A soft, derisive snort cut through the moment.
Boaz’s jaw tightened as his eyes locked onto Alexander. “Do you have something to say?” he asked.
“No,” Alexander said smoothly.
Boaz’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? It sounded like you did.”
For a heartbeat, the noise in the barn seemed to dull around them as Alexander lifted his gaze.
And when their eyes met, something in Boaz’s chest pulled tight. He watched as the blue in Alexander’s eyes darkened, slowly bleeding into red.
Boaz’s breath caught in his throat.
Heat flared along his neck, right at the spot where Alexander had bitten him. It spread outward, making his pulse stumble and then race.
Fuck.
“I’m sure,” Alexander said quietly.
Boaz’s jaw tightened.
Then don’t fucking interrupt me.
The words burned at the back of his throat, but he swallowed them down, forcing himself to turn away and focus on Lyla again.
But when he looked at her, she wasn’t looking at him anymore.
Her gaze moved curiously between them, but when it settled on Alexander, it lingered just a second too long.
Damn it.
Boaz scrambled, searching for something say to pull her attention back. But nothing came to mind.
They sat there in awkward silence. Boaz stared down at his plate, already regretting it. He shouldn’t have engaged Alexander. He should’ve ignored him. Pretended he wasn’t even there.
“Boaz is right, you know?” Alexander said, his deep voice filling the awkward silence.
Boaz stilled.
“You have an alluring presence,” Alexander continued. “His words made me think of my home, too.”
Was he stealing his fucking words, Boaz fixed the vampire with a dark stare.
“We have beautiful mountains covered in snow,” the vampire said dreamily, “and pine forests wrapped in fog… thick with mystery.” Alexander’s gaze shifted to Boaz as he made his next point.
“I was wondering how they would look with someone so beautiful there,” he added, his lips curving into a gorgeous smile.
“Perhaps… they would be even better than your meadow.”
Boaz’s grip on his spoon tightened.
“I doubt it,” he shot back. “Lyla prefers warm, sunny places. Not cold, gloomy ones. She’d hate it there.”
Alexander didn’t even blink. “Well, I’m sure she can speak for herself,” he said. Then he leaned closer to Lyla. Too close. “I would like to take you there,” he murmured. “I promise I’ll make you fall in love with my home. And…” his smile widened, “…keep you warm.”
Boaz felt something twist inside his chest.
“You’re inviting me to your home?” Lyla asked tentatively, but her eyes were full of intrigue.
“Yes,” Alexander said, his gaze never leaving her face. “I would love to have you there.”
And then, he reached for her hand.
Boaz didn’t think. His hand shot across the table, fingers closing around Alexander’s wrist before the vampire could touch her.
The moment their skin touched, something electric shot up Boaz’s arm, making his whole body feel like it had been electrocuted.
What the hell?
Boaz clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to yank his hand back.
Across from him, Alexander’s eyes darkened as he tried to pull his hand free.
But Boaz didn’t let go.
He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Didn’t have a plan, only the need to stop him from touching Lyla.
“We should go,” Boaz heard himself say.
Alexander blinked, caught off guard.
“Go?”
“Yes,” Boaz said, not loosening his grip.
He pushed his chair back and quickly, rounded the table until he was standing right beside Alexander. Up close, the tension between them felt thick, charged.
“I promised Manlius I would bring you to his coven so you can be checked by a healer."
He’d done no such thing.
But it was the only way he could get the vampire away from Lyla without making a scene.
Alexander’s lips parted, but Boaz cut him off before he could get a word out.
“We need to make sure you’re fully healed, especially if you’re going to keep showing up here,” he said. “I’m not putting my pack at risk.” He made sure to look at Lyla when he said that.
I’m protecting you, he wanted to tell her
Instead, he tightened his hold and pulled Alexander to his feet. He led him out of the barn into the cool night air. They crossed the clearing in silence, heading toward the large building where the pack kept their trucks.
They stepped inside the building just as Hansel climbed out of his truck. His brother froze mid-step, eyes widening as he took them in.