Hyde snarled beneath his skin, still fighting for dominance, and flooding his veins with territorial fury. The werewolf’s scent still lingered in the air—amber musk and presumption—and Hyde wanted blood for the audacity.Mine, Hyde growled.Ours. Protect. CLAIM.
His hands shook as he gripped her grocery bags. His hands never shook. He tightened his grip and the plastic handles bit into his palms, the small pain anchoring him as he focused on breathing. Focused on the cool October air filling his lungs and the faint scent of woodsmoke, on anything except the scent of vanilla and warm skin that was all Chloe.
He heard her footsteps as she followed him outside, lighter than they should be for a woman six months pregnant, and Hyde tracked every step with precision of a predator.Run, he thought desperately.Don’t come any closer.
But she didn’t run.
“Victor,” she said softly, and the sound of his name made Hyde settle a little despite the alarm bells ringing in his mind. She shouldn’t say his name like that, as if she knew him, trusted him.
He forced himself to turn. “I apologize for my behavior. That was—”Inexcusable. Dangerous. Exactly what his Father had warned him about.“—inappropriate.”
She was standing right behind him, one hand resting on her rounded belly and the sunlight catching sparks of gold in her brown hair. Her eyes were warm and curious, but not afraid. Why wasn’t she afraid of him? Even if his behavior hadn’t horrified her, his sensitive hearing had picked up Jasper’s warning.
She gave a half-shrug. “He was being flirty. You didn’t like it.”
“I don’t like anyone harassing a pregnant woman,” he said. The explanation sounded logical, reasonable even, but they both knew it didn’t explain the possessive rage that had rolled through the store. “He should have known better.”
“He didn’t know I was your patient.”
Yes. Mine.
His gaze dropped to her stomach, then back to her face. “It wouldn’t matter.”
The air between them thickened. It would have been so easy to close the distance, to pull those soft curves into his arms and kiss her. To taste her.
“Victor?” Her voice was a soft caress, the question in her tone making him ache. “What did Jasper mean when he called you Jekyll?”
“It’s a stupid nickname.”
“But it’s based on something. Is it like the story?”
“Yes and no. There is a part of me that is more… primal. That knows only what it feels, rage usually.” And desire, and an impossible protectiveness for the small human in front of him. He held up the grocery bags, creating a physical barrier between them. “Your keys.”
“Right.” A pretty pink bloomed in her cheeks, and she dug through her purse. The small click of the remote unlocking the car was shockingly loud in the quiet afternoon. He opened the trunk and started to place the bags carefully inside, but she interrupted him, reaching for one of the bags.
“Not that one. That’s my lunch.”
“You’re going back to work?” He hadn’t meant to ask, but the question escaped, sharp-edged with frustration.Stubborn. Reckless. Beautiful.
She lifted her chin and gave him a defiant look. “Yes. I am. That isn’t going to change.”
His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out, to smooth the loose strand of hair from her temple, to rest his palm on her belly and feel the life growing there.
She’s not mine. She can never be mine.
“You should avoid lifting?—”
“Heavy things, I know.” She shook her head, her smile returning. “You mentioned that. Several times.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” Her expression softened. “It’s sweet.”
Sweet.Hyde purred at the word, but he wanted to shake her.
“It’s not sweet. It’s basic prenatal care. Your center of gravity has shifted, and lifting overhead or bending to lift from the ground puts undue stress on?—”
“Victor.” She stepped closer, and he went rigid. Every instinct screamed at him to move—toward or away, he couldn’t tell. The scent of her wrapped around him, warm and sweet and right. Hyde went still, watching her.
