Chapter 8 – CAMILLE
CAMILLE
Iblink hard, trying to get my brain back online. Is he? Is he talking about the case while he sniffs my hair and pins me against the countertop?
Determined not to be the loser in whatever game this is, I clear my throat and switch back into investigator mode.
“When did the first reports come in?” I force my voice out as steadily as possible, trying to pretend that neither of us can scent my arousal growing thicker in the air as he presses his hard body against mine, his obvious erection resting against my stomach.
Unable to meet his eye while my panties flood with my desire for him, I stare at his arms instead, at the bulging veins running thick down his arm and rising under the skin of his forearm before shifting as he rests his other hand on the counter beside me.
That didn’t help. In fact, it might have made things worse.
“After the first event. Three wolves complained of slow healing. Two were about minor injuries taking days instead of hours. One badly shattered ankle that needed to be put in a cast because it took so long to start knitting back together.”
He pulls a file out from under his arm with steady hands before flipping through the pages. All the while, we both pretend my arousal isn’t thick in the air, and he’s not poking me with his hard-on.
“Unusually slow healing, probably from their supernatural powers being suppressed.” I stare at him as he reads, entranced by this version of him that I hadn’t expected. “How did they get the injuries?”
When he locks eyes with me, my core clenches, the bond firing between us with an intensity that’s breathtaking. He runs his fingers through my hair.
“A forest trail run, no sparring, or anything like that. Bad weather ultimately ended the first race, and the conditions were pretty treacherous by the end.” Paper rustles as he sorts through reports. “But nothing that would affect healing.”
I bite my lip, trying to concentrate on what he’s telling me. On ignoring the urge to rub myself against him, to wrap my hand around him and see if he’s as big and thick as he feels.
“And the rain would have washed away any traces of magic immediately, so you didn’t detect it then.” I reason out loud.
“Correct.” His dark brows draw down in a frown. “With Jamie’s arrival…” He gives me a wry smile that almost melts my panties right off. “We were all a bit distracted, especially Dean.”
Something Jax can probably understand a bit better now.
“It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, just some over-trained wolves, maybe suffering from the side effects of exposure.”
Even though I know it’s a mistake, I meet his eyes, immediately getting lost in their swirling amber depths.
“When did you go to Dean with your suspicions that something else was going on?”
Jax’s smile vanishes. He sets the files on the white chest of drawers beside him and runs his thumb along my jaw, brushing my bottom lip with the barest of touches.
“Not until after the day of the obstacle course and scent trials. We got reports of memory problems and balance issues. Competitors getting lost on a clearly marked course. Too many to be a coincidence. I went and had a look for myself.”
He taps the side of his nose, suggesting he went sniffing around, before burying it once more against my neck, his proximity and the tiny brush of his skin against mine, sending tingles all over my body.
“How many?”
He pulls back, the wolf shining in his eyes. “How many…?”
“Reports.” Glad to see I’m not the only one whose brain is struggling to focus.
“Eight in total. Three that I’d say were definitely magic-related. Some of the others were non-alpha wolves who scraped by the first round by the skin of their teeth. They could have been overwhelmed by the crowds and other alphas’ presence and physically struggled to keep up.”
His voice stays clinical, professional even, as he growls quietly near my shoulder before dragging his lips, a hairsbreadth away from my skin, along the column of my neck.
“Then the scent challenge confirmed it wasn’t an isolated incident. Wolves who could track a deer through a rainstorm suddenly couldn’t follow a simple trail.”
Everything adds up. It has to be the stolen artifact. Blinking, I struggle to clear the haze of lust that’s settled over me, making my thoughts sluggish, and my underwear drenched.
The stolen enchanted stone was used by the witches to protect their library, originally intended to sap the supernatural powers of anyone who entered without permission.
It’s powerful enough to render someone unconscious if they continued deeper into the building where the most dangerous and sacred spells are kept.
Its theft was of grave concern, and we’ve been hunting for it ever since.
The witches feared someone could use it for nefarious purposes, just like this.
From a safe distance, it merely drains an unprotected target’s energy, but up close, an unprotected supernatural could really get hurt.
It’s exciting to know I was right, that it’s here, but nerve-wracking as well. I finger the opal at my neck, grateful for the ward I’ve been given.
“I should go.” I move to step around him. “I need to check these locations.”
His hand catches my wrist, and the contact sends electricity shooting up my arm.
I moan, my knees going weak as the tingles dance across my skin and travel straight to my core. My wolf surges forward so hard, I’m momentarily stunned, caught completely off guard.
In one fluid motion, he spins me back against the counter, caging me with his body.
“Right now?” His voice drops lower, rougher.
The civilized healer facade cracks, showing the wild beast underneath.
He yanks my wrist to his nose and inhales, closing his eyes as he breathes my scent deep into his lungs.
We’re pressed close in the small space, his hand braced on the counter beside my hip, and his massive body is pinning me against the hard surface. I should push him away, remember that he doesn’t want this and doesn’t want me, but common sense has long since left the room.
“Yes,” I hiss, hating how breathless I sound, as I try to pull my hand free, but it’s no use. My free hand grips the counter’s edge, knuckles whitening. “I need to speak to Dean. Can you mind link him and ask him to meet me?”
Jax growls. “I have no intention of bringing you to my brother smelling like this.”
The possessiveness lacing his tone does nothing to make the situation better. My knees wobble, my wolf practically rolling over and presenting herself at his display of dominance.
But I’ve got a job to do. A job that I can’t afford to lose because I got distracted by a crooked smile and killer biceps.
“You know what? Forget it. I’ll find him myself.” I try to duck under his arm, but he shifts, keeping me trapped. I need to get away from him. The more time we spend together, the closer we get, the more painful this will be when it ends.
But it feels so good.
“Camille.”
Just my name, but something in the way he says it, stops me cold.
I look up at him, ready to snap again, but something in his expression makes the words die.
“Jax...”
His head lowers slowly, giving me time to stop this—I should. He looks as conflicted as I feel, caught between want and whatever’s holding him back. He’s going to reject me after the case.
I’ve been here before, unwanted, and I swore, I’d never put myself in this position again. But here I am, pining after a man who’s destined to break my heart.
This is a bad idea.
Then his breath warms my lips.
My hands find his chest, fingers spreading over hard muscle hidden underneath his dark T-shirt.
His heartbeat pounds under my palm, fast and uneven. He’s vibrating with the effort of moving slowly. The heat between us builds to unbearable levels, and the space between us starts crackling with tension.
“This is a bad idea,” I whisper, out loud this time, as my fingers curl into his shirt and then tug him closer to me.
“The worst,” he agrees, but his head drops another fraction. “I’m broken. You don’t want me.”
My eyes flutter closed. “Don’t tell me what I want.”
I feel the warmth of his breath and the slight roughness of his lips barely touching mine. The contact is so light that it might be my imagination, but it sends a shiver of anticipation racing through me, regardless.
“Camille,” he whispers against my mouth. “I never thought…”
The anticipation builds with each shared breath, each second we don’t move.
One of us needs to either close that final distance or step back. But neither of us moves, caught in the sweet torture of almost giving in.