outside each room at the motel. “What?” I whispered—no, I gasped . Parts of me were on fire, parts of me buzzed with an energy—a hunger—I never felt except when I was chasing my prey, fur and flesh and hot, sweet blood just a hairsbreadth away. “What is it?”
So close I couldn’t see his mouth, I still knew he smiled because of the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. His dreads rubbed against my forehead, a bead bouncing across the tip of my nose as he shook his head. “You are so beautiful. So strong.” Then he stepped back on the bed, and my world tilted as my feet tried to compensate for the shift of the mattress beneath my feet. “But we should…” His arms dropped away from me, and he took my hands off his hips and held them, watching them intently as they curled limply in his own.
My hands looked as pale and weak as skim milk against the richer and warmer tone of even the palms of his hands.
“We should take things slow,” he said softly.
I yanked my hands away, the sting of rejection sharp. “Fine.”
He grabbed my hands again and took advantage of his better balance, pulling me close once more. “I’m sorry?” he asked, searching my eyes for some clue.
I pushed back from him and caught myself as I tumbled off the edge of the bed, making my stumble look more like a dismount. Barely. “It’s completely logical,” I admitted, fighting to keep the acid from my voice. “You don’t want the responsibilities that come with being bound to an alpha and … well…” I brushed the hair back from my eyes and straightened, throwing my shoulders back and my boobs out. Yeah. I had great boobs. And I made damned certain he knew it. And that he knew he wouldn’t be touching them for a very long time. “And I’m an alpha. I can’t just go screwing around with someone who can’t shoulder responsibility.”
He opened his mouth to object, but before he could say what I’d guessed all along—that he wasn’t shirking responsibility—I added, “I have to think of the pack.”
His mouth closed and he nodded. “You’re right,” he said as a conciliatory measure. “I’m not good enough for you.”
I blinked. I thought of Jessica Gillamansen, duct-taped and gagged nearby. My stomach quivered. Gareth wasn’t good enough for me . It was the furthest thing from the truth.
“I like you, Gareth,” I admitted, my heart quivering at my willingness to put words to my feelings. “But you’re right. Slow is best. Maybe pause or stop is even better.”
Before he could say anything else, I left, letting the door slam behind me.
Alexi
I fought to keep the interior of the truck’s windshield from fogging up between the heat of Max’s breath and the cold of the blustering wind.
“And exactly what will we do when we get to the motel?” Pietr asked.
“Max will scent for their rooms—” I leaned forward and rubbed my sleeve against the windshield to give myself a swatch of vision.
“Or Jessie,” Max stated, his nose to the open window.
“And we will confront Marlaena and demand she return her.”
It seemed simple enough.
“And if they put up a fight?”
“We will give them the fight of their lives.”
“And if Dmitri is there?”
“We’ll argue over who gets to kill him,” Max muttered.
I shook my head.
“There will be no killing unless we’re left with no other choice. They are oboroten . They are like us—like you,” he corrected, looking at Max.
“They may be oboroten, but they are nothing like us. They are thieves—”
“And very likely murderers,” I reminded. “There is one shopkeeper less in this small American town, and I am willing to bet it is their fault.”
Max stretched in his seat. “And we know what that means,” he stated, folding his arms behind his head. “You don’t make bets you aren’t sure of winning.”
“I would bet you are correct,” I confirmed, easing more weight onto the truck’s gas pedal. “But the fact remains they are
So close I couldn’t see his mouth, I still knew he smiled because of the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. His dreads rubbed against my forehead, a bead bouncing across the tip of my nose as he shook his head. “You are so beautiful. So strong.” Then he stepped back on the bed, and my world tilted as my feet tried to compensate for the shift of the mattress beneath my feet. “But we should…” His arms dropped away from me, and he took my hands off his hips and held them, watching them intently as they curled limply in his own.
My hands looked as pale and weak as skim milk against the richer and warmer tone of even the palms of his hands.
“We should take things slow,” he said softly.
I yanked my hands away, the sting of rejection sharp. “Fine.”
He grabbed my hands again and took advantage of his better balance, pulling me close once more. “I’m sorry?” he asked, searching my eyes for some clue.
I pushed back from him and caught myself as I tumbled off the edge of the bed, making my stumble look more like a dismount. Barely. “It’s completely logical,” I admitted, fighting to keep the acid from my voice. “You don’t want the responsibilities that come with being bound to an alpha and … well…” I brushed the hair back from my eyes and straightened, throwing my shoulders back and my boobs out. Yeah. I had great boobs. And I made damned certain he knew it. And that he knew he wouldn’t be touching them for a very long time. “And I’m an alpha. I can’t just go screwing around with someone who can’t shoulder responsibility.”
He opened his mouth to object, but before he could say what I’d guessed all along—that he wasn’t shirking responsibility—I added, “I have to think of the pack.”
His mouth closed and he nodded. “You’re right,” he said as a conciliatory measure. “I’m not good enough for you.”
I blinked. I thought of Jessica Gillamansen, duct-taped and gagged nearby. My stomach quivered. Gareth wasn’t good enough for me . It was the furthest thing from the truth.
“I like you, Gareth,” I admitted, my heart quivering at my willingness to put words to my feelings. “But you’re right. Slow is best. Maybe pause or stop is even better.”
Before he could say anything else, I left, letting the door slam behind me.
Alexi
I fought to keep the interior of the truck’s windshield from fogging up between the heat of Max’s breath and the cold of the blustering wind.
“And exactly what will we do when we get to the motel?” Pietr asked.
“Max will scent for their rooms—” I leaned forward and rubbed my sleeve against the windshield to give myself a swatch of vision.
“Or Jessie,” Max stated, his nose to the open window.
“And we will confront Marlaena and demand she return her.”
It seemed simple enough.
“And if they put up a fight?”
“We will give them the fight of their lives.”
“And if Dmitri is there?”
“We’ll argue over who gets to kill him,” Max muttered.
I shook my head.
“There will be no killing unless we’re left with no other choice. They are oboroten . They are like us—like you,” he corrected, looking at Max.
“They may be oboroten, but they are nothing like us. They are thieves—”
“And very likely murderers,” I reminded. “There is one shopkeeper less in this small American town, and I am willing to bet it is their fault.”
Max stretched in his seat. “And we know what that means,” he stated, folding his arms behind his head. “You don’t make bets you aren’t sure of winning.”
“I would bet you are correct,” I confirmed, easing more weight onto the truck’s gas pedal. “But the fact remains they are
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