Chapter 22 #3
“What in the Anne Bonny pirate queen are you wearing?” she asks, eyeing the daggers she can now see strapped to my sides. “You planning on knifing me today?” She says the words lightly enough, but there’s a gravelly undertone to them, like her throat keeps wanting to shift.
“That’s a chat for another time,” I say.
I lay my jacket out on the ground, suppressing a shiver. “Lie on this.”
“I’m fine.”
I give her a look, and she huffs.
“So bossy—” Another ripple rushes through her limbs, and she pinches her eyes shut, her throat working like she’s trying to stop herself from retching.
A chorus of howls goes up, much, much closer this time. Now is when I should leave. But I can’t bring myself to walk away from Sybil, not when she appears so sick.
From the darkness, I sense something approaching, and when I glance into the woods, I see my pale orange orb of light bob toward me.
Beyond it… My hackles rise.
Lycanthrope.
I barely make out the large, furred shape before the wolf rushes forward, toward Sybil, who whimpers as its fur grazes her bare skin.
My heart thunders from where I kneel next to her, instinct screaming at me to get to my feet. But the wolf merely licks her arm, then rubs its cheek against hers.
When it lifts its head, I meet its icy-blue gaze.
Kane.
He stares at me for another long second before shifting. Despite how long and drawn-out Sybil’s transformation appears to be taking, it happens for Kane within a matter of seconds.
Where a moment ago a wolf stood, now a human kneels. Kane’s back ripples, like it’s protesting the shift, and he rises to his feet, staggeringly tall and distractingly naked.
“I must be seeing things,” he says. “Surely Selene fucking Bowers is not on shifter property during a full moon, pressed against a newly turned lycanthrope.”
I glare at him. “She needed me.”
His gaze moves between the two of us, taking in how Sybil leans her body subtly into mine.
“I don’t doubt that,” he says, his gravelly voice softening. “But she will eventually shift, and if you stay, she could hurt you in the process, and that will be a wound she’ll have to live with for the rest of her life.”
When he puts it like that, all my altruistic reasons for staying now crumble to the ground.
Kane cocks his head. “The rest of the pack is approaching,” he says. “She’s in good hands.”
“No.” She moans out her protests.
“You’ll be okay,” I promise, about to retreat when a second wolf arrives.
A low, ominous growl starts up in this lycan’s throat.
“Move slowly,” Kane cautions.
Carefully, I rise to my feet, backing away from a groaning Sybil as this second wolf prowls toward me, its lips drawn back to show its gums and teeth.
An inhuman sound comes from Kane’s chest as he steps forward, placing himself between me and the wolf. As I watch, the muscles of Kane’s back ripple and settle like water.
“That’s your mate’s friend,” Kane says to the lycan, “someone she considers family. You cannot attack her.” Riding Kane’s words is a sort of magic that differs from mine.
I can feel the power in his words, and this wolf—Sawyer, it seems like—must sense it too because he hesitates, his ears flicking.
The deep, terrifying noise he’s making, however, isn’t letting up.
“Say goodbye to your friend, Selene,” Kane says without turning to look at me. “We’re leaving.”
There is no we. I’m not going anywhere with the guy. But I should honestly get the hell out of here.
Sybil is making moaning noises and rolling her forehead back and forth along my coat.
“Love you, Sybil,” I say softly. “You’ve got this. I want to hear all about it later.”
She groans in response.
Alright, now’s not the best time for a pep talk.
I back away, and Kane moves with me, keeping his body between me and Sawyer the entire time.
It’s actually quite sweet.
Only Sawyer is creeping closer to us, his hackles up, and he’s treating Kane, presumably his alpha, with the same hostility he’s treating me.
“We’re leaving,” Kane reiterates slowly, his wolf in his voice.
He grabs my wrist without looking and directs me back into the woods and away from Sawyer.
“Ow, can you lighten up?” I say, glaring at him as I’m tugged along.
It’s the wrong thing to say.
In response Kane lets out a low growl and scoops me up.
“Wait, I still need to get my broom—”
“You’ll get it another day,” he says, literally tossing me over his shoulder and striding toward the boundary line.
Sawyer follows us, growling ominously.
“Relax,” Kane calls out to him, “I’m not going to mess with your mate. Now will you go tend to her? She’s having a hell of a time.”
I squirm while he’s talking. “Let me go,” I bite out.
“Stop wiggling,” he says, and I feel the dominant push of his power upon me. It makes me want to do something completely out of line like say “yes, daddy,” or you know, actually follow his orders.
But damnit, I am a strong, independent woman.
…who also stops squirming.
“Can you for once in your life not manhandle me?” I demand.
“If you actually followed orders for once, I might not need to.”
I guffaw. “I don’t follow any man’s orders.”
You do if you get an orgasm out of it, Memnon says from absolutely nowhere.
Irrelevant, I say. Also, stop listening in on my thoughts.
I feel his smile, and then the sorcerer slips from our connection.
Memnon clearly hasn’t been listening too hard; otherwise he’d know his rival is carrying me around like a baby—well, okay, more like a sack of flour.
But whatever, I’m riding the dude, something I seriously doubt my archaic husband’s ass would be all cute and chill about if he were aware of it.
Kane, meanwhile, makes a low sound in his throat. “Please don’t challenge me on a night like tonight. I’m barely holding on to my form right now.”
“If you would just put me down so I could get my broom, you wouldn’t be forced to stay human.”
“Yeah, well, if I stayed back there, Sawyer would’ve kicked my ass, and I’m not super eager to spend the full moon repairing broken bones.”
That makes me go still. “Would he really have hurt you that badly?”
Kane is silent for a long moment. “Maybe,” he finally says. “Lycans can be very territorial with their mates, especially newly turned ones.”
“He’s stifling Sybil, I think.”
“Her wolf wants the companionship. She’s fighting that part of herself, probably because it scares her, but that’s also partly why she’s having trouble shifting.”
I don’t have anything to say to that. Sybil did seem reluctant about her wolf. Hopefully she sorts it out.
Ahead of us, the thin, luminous blue property line comes into sight.
“Are you going to stop at the boundary marker like you did last time?” I ask.
It’s a petty thing to ask.
“Depends,” he all but growls. “Are you going to invite me over?”
“Over the property line? Sure. Into my room? No.”
It’s quiet for a long moment, and for the life of me I wish I could see Kane’s face.
“I’ll walk you home. That’s all.”
He’s obviously using the word “walk” loosely. My feet haven’t touched the ground in a while.
Behind us, I hear Sybil’s cry, hear it morph into a howl. Several seconds later, a chorus of howls rise in response. I feel the vibrations of Kane’s own chest, and then he, too, is howling, his voice pitched perfectly.
Goose bumps break out across my skin, and instinct is telling me that I am in the arms of a predator.
I begin to wiggle again.
Kane’s grip tightens, and a strange vocalization comes from his throat.
“Don’t,” he warns, his wolf riding his voice. Quieter he adds, “If you run, I will chase you, and I will bite you. And then you will be the one lying in the forest in a month as you take on your first shift.”
My breath hitches as I imagine what he’s saying. He doesn’t sound all that against the idea.
Again, I stop wiggling.
We’ve only just crossed the boundary line when Kane groans, his grip on me tightening as the sound evolves into something more primal. He seems to force himself to set me down.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just fighting with my wolf.”
“Just go back,” I insist. “I’ll be fine from here.”
Kane doesn’t, however, make a move to leave. “During the last Sacred Seven, you were terrified of being on pack territory. What changed between then and now?”
“I already told you, Sybil needed me.”
“She could’ve killed you,” he says, a growl entering his voice. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and I desperately try to ignore the fact that the man is naked from head to foot. “I assumed you were well aware of that risk, especially based on your reaction to me on Samhain.”
My cheeks heat when I remember the way Kane had lain on me, nothing but a flimsy layer of material between his body and mine. How nervous I had been about him biting me.
“I warded myself tonight.”
“You warded yourself?” Kane steps in close. “And you thought that would be good enough for a freshly turned lycan undergoing their first shift? I know you are strong, Selene, but you’re far out of your depth here.”
Only that pup would think you were incapable of handling a violent situation, Memnon says across our bond.
I was wrong, assuming how much Memnon had overheard or how jealous he would get.
You’re wearing my ring, sleeping in my bed, and regularly climaxing against my cock and my mouth. What is there for me to be worried about? he says now.
My cheeks heat.
“Besides,” Kane adds, his words interrupting my conversation with the sorcerer, “I thought you didn’t want to be around us, Selene, when our shifts were close. Or was that just me?”
It’s just him, Memnon supplies, oh so helpfully. Clearly he’s now fully invested in this conversation. Maybe he is jealous after—
Kane lunges for me, tackling my body to the ground. I grunt as my head smacks against the packed earth and my teeth clack together.
What in the Seven Hells?
A large object collides with us a moment later, throwing the lycan off me.