Unleash the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page B

this?”
    He didn’t answer. Instead he reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “You shouldn’t have come back here, Maggie.”
    His hand was rough and callused. Unlike the guys she knew, his hands were used to hard work, not oiled manicures. “I wanted to give you a small token to say thank you for last night.”
    Wren glanced at the flowers in his room. The bears and other Were-Hunters had been harassing him unmercifully about them. Not that he cared. To him those flowers were unbelievably precious.
    No one else had ever given him a present before. No one.
    He started to push himself up, only to have Maggie stop him.
    â€œYou shouldn’t move.”
    The concern on her face tore at him. “It’s okay.”
    â€œNo.” She gestured to the bandage, where a red spot was forming again. “See, you’re bleeding. Should I call someone?”
    He shook his head. “I’ll heal.”
    Her beautiful brown eyes castigated and doubted him. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were shot last night. What if you had died?”
    He snorted at that. “I’ve been shot enough to know when it’s not fatal.”
    Marguerite gave him a stunned look. Was he serious? With him she was never quite sure. He tossed things out at her in passing conversations that would be horrifying if they were true, and the bland way he spoke of them led her to believe that they just might be.
    â€œShot by whom?”
    He didn’t respond to her question as he propped himself up in the bed. His dreads fell back into his eyes, obscuring his face from her view. She was beginning to suspect that he did that on purpose so that he could watch the world while no one could watch him.
    Even so, she saw a small bead of sweat fall down the side of his face from the strain of being awake. “I won’t stay long,” she said, handing him the bag in her hands.
    He stared at it as if it were an alien being. It was actually rather comical. One would think the man had never been given a gift before.
    â€œWhat’s this?” he asked.
    â€œOpen it.”
    She thought he might be frowning as he picked up the tissue paper on top and held it to his face. He seemed to be savoring it.…
    â€œWhat are you doing?” she asked with a frown.
    Without responding, he set the paper aside, then reached in and pulled out the gray sweatshirt inside. She smiled at his confusion.
    â€œI know you said you’re taking classes at UNO, but I couldn’t bring myself to put a pirate on you. I saw the LSU tiger shirt in a store and had to buy it. I know it’s weird, but I’ve always had a thing for tigers and I thought it’d look good on you.”
    He cocked his head to the side as if completely perplexed or intrigued by her words. “Thank you, Maggie.”
    The sound of that nickname on his lips brought a shiver to her. She loved the way he said it—sure, deep, and protective. It was almost like an endearment.
    â€œSo is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.
    Wren stiffened at her question, in more than one way. The one thing he wanted from her was the one thing he could never ask—to have her naked in his bed. And that added a deep, inexplicable burning to his chest. “I’m fine.”
    â€œYou sure? I could get—”
    â€œAimee?” he called, interrupting her.
    The door opened instantly to show him the bearswan. She passed a quick look between them as she drew near the bed.
    â€œShe needs to leave,” Wren told her.
    Aimee nodded, then reached for Maggie.
    She shrugged off Aimee’s touch. “Wren…”
    â€œI need to rest, Maggie. Please.”
    Marguerite hesitated at the strain she heard in his voice. How could she argue with that? He was in extreme pain because he had saved her life when most men would have turned the other way and not bothered.
    â€œOkay.” She moved