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“It’s me.” I knock once.
“Leo?” A soft feminine lilt muffles from within.
“Yeah.” I creak open the door and slip inside.
My gaze falls on Kody’s bed. He hasn’t moved, still flat on his back, lightly snoring. Beside him, Frankie snuggles into Wolf’s chest. The deranged fool is smiling, dead to the world, with the gun resting in his hand and pointed at the door. At least his finger isn’t on the trigger. His other arm wraps so tightly around her I’m surprised she can breathe.
He’s protecting her even in sleep, exactly how I would, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.
Seeing them there, safe and together, fills me with feelings of a different color, emotions with an appetite I’ve never experienced. Everything I cherish lies before me, nestled in a heap of tangled scars, gutted hearts, and frozen fates.
My entire world is in that bed.
It’s a terrible realization. So many things can happen, and all it would take is a moment—a wolf, bullet, plane crash—and my fragile world would be ripped away.
Frankie watches me in the darkness. I watch her in return, studying her sleepy features, tousled hair, and delicate body. Untouched. Unbruised. Unclaimed.
I ache to go to her, to touch and bruise and claim. But I’m filthy. I need a shower.
“Sorry I woke you.” I turn to step out.
“You didn’t. I was waiting for you.” She tilts her face toward Wolf’s. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
She kisses his mouth, and I stiffen. My stomach knots, and it takes the last of my willpower to rein in my temper.
I’m trying to keep my shit locked down, but dammit, I’m a territorial asshole. I love that she loves him. I just don’t want her to love him like that. I won’t share her. I can share her affection, but not her body. That part of her is mine.
“Mm.” He stirs. Then his eyes spring open, darting to me, and his hand tightens on the gun.
“Don’t shoot your brother.” Another kiss, and she wriggles out of his arms. “I need the bathroom. Leo’s with me, okay?”
He squints at me, letting his eyes adjust. Once he sees me clearly, he mumbles, “Okay.”
As she pads past me, she grips my hand and tugs me along, out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the bathroom.
After she shuts and locks the door, she takes one hard look at me in the light, and her eyes go wide. “Oh, my. That wolf did you dirty.”
“Considering how many wounds it had, I think you win that award.”
“It put up a good fight, but I had more to lose.” She flicks on the shower and reaches for my blood-splattered sweatshirt, scrunching up her cute little nose. “You stink. Did you roll in the entrails? Where’s your coat?”
“I strung up the meat in the smokehouse. Left the coat in there.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of work. Thank you for taking care of us. I know you’re exhausted.” She lifts off my shirt and pauses to brush a hand across my scar.
“What are you doing?” My abs pull taut beneath her soft touch.
“Let me take care of you now.” Lowering her head, she glides her mouth along the ridge of the stab wound. Then she runs her palms up my chest, over my shoulders, and down my arms, her gaze hooded, following her caress. “You’re beautiful, Leo. Tragically so.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re so genuine and real it hurts.” She crouches to unlace and remove my boots. “You’ve endured a lifetime of loneliness, yet you give your brothers a sense of belonging. You’re so protective that it makes me smile and cry at the same time because it’s just right.” She rises and flattens her hand over my scar. “You’re beautiful in spite of your suffering.”
Exquisite agony cracks open my chest. The kind of agony that entwines with love. It hurts to need someone this deeply, and I feel that pain everywhere, all at once.
“Frankie…” I need to get a damn grip on my swelling cock before it scares her away. “I can undress myself.”
“Do you want me to stop?” She slips her fingers beneath the button on my jeans and slips it open. “I don’t think you want that.”
It’s impossible to form words with her electric-green eyes devouring my body. She likes what she sees. The scars, the wolf blood, the cruel edges, and the terrible temper. She knows all my secrets, the shameful childhood abuse, and she accepts it. She accepts me.
Blood rushes to my cock with the gallop of my heart. Leaning against the bathroom counter, I grip the edge, my voice rough. “Don’t stop.”
She presses a kiss to my chest and removes my jeans and boxers. A soft gasp puffs from her parted mouth as she stares at my starving erection. I’m already leaking from the tip, just thinking about her touching it.
