The pack grapevine was abuzz that McCauley wanted his sister mated to Veyr. She’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall in the council chamber when he’d announced his intentions.
Her brother stood next to McCauley, but Cyan avoided his gaze. Since she was about to get chased and fucked, since there was no way she could outrun Veyr even if she wanted to, acknowledging him would be awkward.
The presence of the council and the crowd around them fell away as her gaze met Veyr’s. Heat blazed in his eyes, his nostrils flaring as soon as he saw her. He stood in the center of the dais with his hands clasped in front of him and watched her approach. But his body language was deceptive. Despite the indolence of his stance, she saw the tension that arched through him. Saw the feral expression in his eyes as he looked at her. Her heart lurched, stomach rolling with what felt like rioting butterflies.
He still wanted her. The Master of the City wanted her… Her. Curvy, not-able-to-shift Cyan Trevais.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Veyr didn’t take his eyes off her. “You have been called here today to witness a ritual steeped in history, one not often used in today’s society. As some of you may have guessed from my Lady’s attire, today marks the first Claiming Chase in almost fifty years. Today,” he paused and looked around the crowd, his expression like granite, as if daring anyone to gainsay him. “I claim Cyan, from the Trevais pack, as my woman.”
* * *
R ed suited Cyan . Like really suited her. Veyr’s hands clenched into fists at his sides when she came into view. The dress fitted her like a second skin, outlining her curves in a way that had his cock twitching in his pants. It was as if he’d not seen a woman in years, rather than screwed this self-same woman up against a wall less than two hours ago.
She met his eyes after his announcement and a shudder worked its way up his spine to lodge in the small of his back. Most women would have refused to look up, would have acted the image of the perfectly brought up, knew-her-place-in-the-world, noblewoman. Not Cyan. She matched his look, a challenge in her eyes. She was the kind of woman who didn’t care what society said her place should be. The kind who, once she’d figured out what place she wanted, would stomp and batter her way through until she stood there.
Like him.
She was perfect.
“Cyan Trevais,” he addressed her as custom dictated. “Do you accept the challenge of the chase?”
Her chin lifted; her bee-stung lips pursed in determination. She looked so cute, and hot. He barely managed to stay where he was, the urge to drop off the dais, sweep her off her feet and kiss the pout from her lips was so strong.
“I do.” Her voice was clear and calm. Firm, but not belligerent. She’d make an excellent mate. Her strength combined with his…they could accomplish wonders. He snapped out of what could quickly become day-dreams of their future to the present. First he had to catch her. Then fuck her.
His wolf growled its approval of that idea.
He inclined his head and rolled his shoulders, shrugging out of his suit jacket. Beneath it, he was stripped to the waist, a habit he’d developed in the ring. He’d always known how to play the audience, and he did now, tensing his muscles to show off as a ripple of fur brushed against the inside of his skin. A murmur ran through the crowd, but he wasn’t watching them. In fact, he couldn’t have given a rat’s ass if they were there or not. All his attention was on the tiny woman in red in front of him.
“Then…” His voice deepened, became rough and harsh with his wolf. “Run.”
She didn’t scream, just picked up her skirts and fled. The crowds parted as she darted through them, lost in their number within seconds. Veyr grinned. She was clever, his little wolf. Hidden among the massed wolves of the court, he couldn’t see which of the five exits from the courtyard she took.
With a
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