Chapter 23
RODERICK
Juliet goes from aroused to terrified faster than I can blink.
Which leaves me fucking confused. Everything she was just saying had my blood pressure rising and my thoughts turning dirty.
She imagined me shirtless? She’s practically drooling over me?
I came here with the intention to apologize for being a dick to her and maybe finally let myself enjoy looking at the pretty librarian. Breathe in her scent without shame. Get into a verbal sparring match.
A little fun. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. Not immediately.
But being faced with the idea that Juliet might be lusting over me?
The want for her shot through me, filling every pore.
And then she grabbed a bat.
“Juliet?” I try to make my voice gentle, but it comes out low and rough with need.
She flinches, and the bat quivers in her fingers. But the weapon stays between us.
A bitter tint mixes with her normal scent.
Fear.
What scares our mate? We will DESTROY it!
We do, I tell my wolf. She’s scared of us.
That quiets the creature but leaves me reeling. She’s afraid of me, and the thought twists my gut.
What changed?
I would have understood her being afraid from the start. Juliet is a human, and humans usually associate the supernatural with monsters living in the shadows.
But she was snarking at me only a moment ago. I don’t know what triggered her. All I know is, she’s terrified now.
I consider leaving. Only there’s no guarantee an abrupt departure would alleviate Juliet’s fear. And I can’t abandon her like this. Frantic pants make her chest stutter. Pupils dilate until her eyes are almost as black as a wolf’s in the grip of high emotion.
My instinct is to fight. To find the source of her fear and eviscerate it.
There is no target though.
So, for her, I do the exact opposite of what a pack leader is supposed to do.
I submit.
With hands open wide, eyes downcast, head tilted to display my vulnerable neck, I slide from my chair and sink to the floor. Sitting cross-legged, I keep my gaze on Juliet’s fluffy socks and my arms relaxed at my sides.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The words are just a murmur, and I hope they help to soothe her frantic heart rate.
Then I wait.
A minute or so passes before there’s any noticeable slowing of her breath.
A smack of wood against the tiles reverberates through the kitchen when Juliet drops her bat.
She leans back and slides down the cabinets until her butt hits the floor.
Dejection sits heavy on her face, and she presses her fingers to her forehead, as if trying to physically push certain thoughts away.
“I know you’re not, Roderick.” Juliet says my name with extra emphasis, as if to remind herself who she is talking to. “I know. But when your eyes …”
My eyes?
Then I realize what happened. When my lust rose, they must have bled black.
Knowing that a werewolf’s eyes scare her reveals more about Juliet’s past than I think she wanted me to know.
A heavy sigh spills from her chest. “I just haven’t had the greatest experience with wolves.”
Anger spikes hot through me, and my wolf growls in silent fury.
She hasn’t had the greatest experience with wolves? An understatement with the way she lunged for that bat.
Which can only mean one thing.
“Who hurt you?”
Juliet doesn’t give me names. She merely shakes her head. “They don’t matter anymore.”
They.
We will kill them all.
I don’t correct my wolf because I don’t disagree.
“You’re right.” It’s all I can do to keep the growl out of my voice.
Juliet’s shocked eyes flicker to mine, and I hold them.
“Tell me their names and then forget them. I’ll make sure you never see them again.”
I wait for her hesitant admission, expecting her voice to be small or the names to come out with sobs.
Instead, the little librarian studies me. And the corner of her mouth twitches. “Thank you. But no.”
She disobeyed my order?
Why am I surprised? That seems to be Juliet’s specialty.
Before I can come up with another argument, she sucks in a deep breath. A bracing maneuver.
Then she nudges the bat out of her way and shifts forward. Juliet doesn’t make to stand. Instead, she rolls to her knees.
And then she crawls, across the linoleum tiles, toward me.
My body remains locked in place as I watch her approach. The moves have an air of determination and a hint of seduction as her hips sway. Red hair spills over her shoulders, brushing against cleavage that is on glorious display at this angle.
Before she even reaches me, I can feel a tightening in my jeans.
When Juliet is directly in front of me, she sits back, stare locked on mine, defiance in the dip of her brows.
“You got on the floor for me,” she says. “You submitted to me.”
Another alpha might deny the move. Most alphas wouldn’t have done it in the first place.
But I’m not any of them.
“I did.”
Juliet sucks on her bottom lip, and I struggle not to groan at the sight.
“I am in charge of my life,” she declares.
“You are.” My response is low and automatic.
To put her further at ease, I drop my gaze again. Shielding my dark eyes. Here, on this kitchen floor, in front of a fierce yet vulnerable woman, I’m willing to humble myself so the bitter smell of fear will ease from her citrus scent.
“Roderick.” Juliet’s palms land on my knees.
The muscles in my thighs clench at the touch, and a shiver travels up my spine at the sound of my name in her husky voice.
I grunt.
She leans closer.
“I want to kiss you.”