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“Just don’t,” he said quietly. “She’s alone. She’s freaked out. She hates all of us with extremely good reason…”
“But you and she are we?”
“No, ma, that’s never happening.”
8
Goldie woke with a wolf on her feet. She made an incomprehensible noise and staggered out of bed as the wolf became a naked man halfway through his leap to follow her. Aiden crouched on all fours, staring at her and the underwear she’d chosen to sleep in. He collapsed to one side and rolled away.
“Sorry! Sorry,” he said as he ran for the door, giving her an excellent view until he somersaulted into the hallway and slammed it.
Another incomprehensible sound between a growl and a scream left her throat as she shook her hands, trying to come down from the jolt of adrenaline.
She took a deep breath. It hadn’t been a nightmare. Or a dream.
“Okay girl, breathe,” she told herself, but like with most meditation-type activities, she’d had enough breathing in under a minute. She marched to the door and flung it open. “What were you doing?”
Aiden was opening a closet in the foyer next to the front door. It matched the surrounding paneling, which explained why she hadn’t found it the night before. He pulled on a large, long parka.
“Sorry,” he said. “The wolf, it…”
She marched up to him. “Don’t give me the wolf. My brother-in-law is a shifter. He told me a sane shifter never loses control.”
He flinched, and she took a step back and crossed her arms over her breasts, suddenly conscious that she was standing almost naked in the foyer.
Without looking, he reached into the closet, pulled out a khaki canvas coat, and handed it to her. She put it on and zipped it up. It went down to her thighs, fortunately.
“My wolf couldn’t leave you down here alone.”
“You live in a fortress. I’ve never seen wards this strong.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes; she knew that was another thing shifters never did.
“They’re not to keep anybody out,” he said.
“It’s to keep you in.” She took a single, slow step back. She’d learned not to run from predators at two growing up in the woods.
A few clues finally clicked into place: the inward-facing wards, the teenager’s fear of him, and the fight with her relatives. Hell, he’d straight up told her yesterday that he lost control. She’d taken it for dirty talk. How was he not dead? How had they not put him down years ago?
He held out both hands, palms up, still not meeting her eyes. “The wolf would never hurt you.”
“The wolf is never supposed to do anything either way on its own.”
Finally, he met her eyes. “How much of your life has gone the way it’s supposed to?”
She flinched, thinking of her flickering spells. “Touché.”
“You’re in no danger from me.”
“Seriously?” She threw her hands out to the foyer around her. For the first time, she noticed it was almost spotless. A few feathers were clinging to the ceiling, and the floor looked weirdly shiny, but he’d cleaned up everything.
“Okay, you’re already in the maximum amount of danger. I am notmoredangerous.”
As her heart rate normalized, she realized she believed him. It wasn’t his words; the proof was in her continued existence. Apparently, he didn’t have control of his wolf, but the wolf wanted to protect her. She took a couple more breaths. She could either run screaming into the night and take a chance with his other relatives, many of whom had already kidnapped her, or she could pretend this was normal and fine. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You want to keep arguing?”
