Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
H ow was she even more beautiful every time he saw her?
They’d moved inside, out of the chill of the garage, and the way she was perched on the top edge of the couch gave him the perfect view of her bare legs.
He couldn’t think straight. He wished the borrowed sweatpants he was wearing weren’t quite so tight because the sight was enough to make his dick harder than it had been in weeks. Or possibly ever.
But it wasn’t the sight of her lush curves or dark gaze or even the slightly smudged red lips—the lipstick worn off just enough to make her look thoroughly kissed—that sent his heart racing.
No, it was the sight of those bare feet.
So vulnerable, so personal. He felt like he’d seen something he was never meant to.
Something he didn’t have the right to. Her toenails were painted bright pink.
Unfortunately, besides being intimate and adorable, her tiny feet had only sent his blood racing at the memory of last night’s attack. She could have been killed. She was too vulnerable. What if he had left her alone? A cold dread sank into his stomach at the thought.
“What are you thinking about?” Ruby asked, sliding the rest of the way onto the couch.
Her now-familiar cinnamon-spice scent assaulted him in the small room. He discreetly pressed down on the pillow in his lap.
“Nothing really.” He cleared the raspiness from his throat. “Why?”
Ruby shrugged, still watching him. “Your face went all dark and frowny like you were angry.”
“Of course I’m angry.” He raked his hands through his hair, wincing at the ache in his shoulder. It still wasn’t fully healed but by tonight he should be fine. He wondered how the other wolf was doing.
“Why? Is it the yellow and orange tie dye?”
“The what?” He glanced down at his borrowed T-shirt. “No, it’s not that.”
“Oh, good. I think it suits you.”
He sighed. “Ruby, you shouldn’t have been in the woods alone.”
Her eyes widened and she scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess the existence of werewolves who attack innocent people is my fault.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.”
“Ruby,” he grumbled.
“Rafe,” she mimicked his deep tone and he nearly laughed. He would have if he didn’t feel so sick about everything.
“Why the hell did you wrap me in a rug and put me in the garage?”
“What was I supposed to do? I thought you were a wild animal. To be fair, you were a wild animal.”
“You could have left me outside.”
She narrowed her eyes at him like she was insulted he would even suggest that. “You were hurt and you’d helped me. Even if you’re being an ass now, I felt inclined to help you back at the time.”
He chuckled. “Well, thanks.”
He remembered lying in the dirt after the fight, waiting for his body to heal.
He remembered Ruby’s voice. “And now I’m going to save you.
” She’d said it with such determination that Rafe had instantly believed her.
He had no idea what she meant, but he had complete confidence in her ability to do it.
He remembered when she’d stood up, giving him an upfront view of her black boots.
She looked like she could kick the shit out of someone in those boots, and he’d liked that.
The boots had walked away, taking Ruby with them, and Rafe had drifted in and out of consciousness with Ruby’s words echoing through his head. You saved me. And now I’m going to save you. Wouldn’t that be nice? he’d thought before slipping under again.
“How’s your shoulder?” she asked now, bringing him back to her cozy living room.
The aesthetic was so far from Ruby’s personal style it almost made Rafe laugh.
The couch was covered in big pale pink roses, and the chair he had chosen was outfitted in pastel stripes.
An old rocking chair sat in the corner, draped in a colorful blanket.
He was sure an interior designer would describe this design choice as shabby chic.
The rug under their feet was worn and soft, and there was a fireplace along the wall with framed pictures of Ruby and her sister on the mantle interspersed with candles and vases filled with dried flowers.
Rafe would have guessed a grandmother lived here, not someone like Ruby.
“Better.” He took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes in relief.
Healing took a lot out of him. Not to mention fighting, which he hadn’t done in a long time.
The memory of the other wolf’s blood spilling into his mouth nearly had him spitting out his coffee.
He had sworn he would never taste that again.
And yet just the memory of it had him wanting to hunt down that wolf and finish what they’d started.
“You’re doing it again.”
He looked up to find Ruby staring at him over the rim of her mug.
“Doing what?”
“That angry stare thing. Like you want to kill someone.”
He swallowed his next sip too fast. It burned the back of his throat. “I would never hurt you.”
Ruby’s eyes widened slightly. “I know.”
Her confidence in him was unnerving. He’d given her no reason to believe he wasn’t a monster. In fact, he’d just confessed to the exact opposite, and yet she still sat across from him.
“But you would have killed that other wolf. Werewolf?”
He nodded yes to both of her questions. “I would have killed him, if I had to. And yes, he was a werewolf.”
It was Ruby’s turn to nod and sip her coffee. It had been a long time since he’d confessed to any human what he really was, and he was shocked that she hadn’t run away. Instead, she studied him with a focused curiosity.
“So why did that werewolf attack us?”
Rafe glanced toward the kitchen, not sure how much of his story Ruby would want her sister to hear. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell her either.
“Lena has gone out to pick up some breakfast.”
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, replaying the attack in his head. “I don’t think he was after me. I think he wanted you.”
“ Me ? Why the hell would he want me?”
The wolf was the guy from the bar. The asshole that had the audacity to touch Ruby. Rafe spotted him before he shifted, but he didn’t know if he should tell Ruby that yet. He didn’t want to freak her out too much. He needed to be careful with her.
“I don’t know why he would attack you. It’s not done anymore. We have a strict policy…” Rafe trailed off, noticing the sick expression on Ruby’s face.
“Anymore?”
Rafe swallowed hard. “We didn’t used to be on the best terms with the humans around here.”
“Define best terms .” Ruby pulled the closest pillow onto her lap as though she could use it as a shield.
“We didn’t kill them. Usually.” Rafe ran a hand up the back of his neck, no longer able to meet Ruby’s eye. “Just scare them.”
“ You did that? You terrorized humans?” She squeezed the pillow tighter.
“Well, no. But my pack did.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Too many apex predators in one place, or some bullshit like that, but it got more dangerous for us than for them. We lost a lot of wolves. I don’t know what the hell that wolf was up to.”
Just the thought of that wolf lunging toward Ruby had his stomach twisted in angry knots. The need to go after him, track him down, and rip his throat out burned hot beneath his skin. Humans were off limits, but animals, even other wolves, were fair game.
Ruby frowned. “Were you born like this?”
“Yes.”
“Can someone turn into a werewolf, though? Like if you?… bite them?” She hesitated on the word “bite,” her voice catching on something. Fear? Disgust? Desire?
Damn these tight pants. Rafe pressed what he hoped was a discreet hand over his lap, but the way Ruby’s eyes flicked down, her blush deepening, told him that it wasn’t as discreet as he hoped. But it was impossible to deny that the idea of biting Ruby’s soft flesh made him hard as hell.
“No. Werewolves are born, not made.” His lust quickly cooled with the unwanted memory of the last time he’d confessed to what he really was.
It had been over a decade ago, but the scars were still there, though they were worn smooth by the years.
He’d been foolish enough at the time to think that Scarlet would accept him for what he was.
The look on her face when he’d told her the truth…
It had been an expression of pure horror.
He had been wrong. She only saw the beast.
He shook the memories of his confession from his head, and every horrific thing that had happened after.
This time would be different. And he had completely different reasons for telling Ruby the truth. First of all, he didn’t have much of a choice. Ruby had caught him in the act, so to speak. And secondly, if any of this knowledge kept her safe then he would freely give it.
She was still studying him with a look of fascination on her face. Her eyes were such a dark brown they appeared black, and they were rimmed in dark lashes that contrasted sharply with her pale skin. And those lips. Fuck him, those lips were enough to drive a man out of his mind.
“Oh-kaaay…” she said finally, drawing out the second syllable. “So, you’re a werewolf who lives in the neighborhood.” She smirked a little. “But how long have you been following me home?”
She moved closer, leaning on the arm of the sofa, her pillow carelessly tossed aside. What he wouldn’t give to drag her onto his lap and…
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging harder than necessary, trying to regain his composure.
It didn’t work. Now he was thinking about Ruby’s fingers in his hair, his head between her legs.
What was wrong with him? He was acting like a fucking animal.
Something he’d been avoiding as of late. Last night’s antics aside.
“A week.”
A slight tremor went through Ruby’s body, but she didn’t take her eyes from his face.
She shivered with fear, but her face was eager, bright.
As though she liked it. As though she liked him despite what he’d done last night or years ago.
He could get addicted to that look, but he knew how the story ended.
He pulled back, struggling against the gravity of Ruby’s gaze.
“How did you know I was in danger? Are all werewolves psychic?”
He shook his head. “No. But with you, everything is different.”