The want for her shot through me, filling every pore.
And then she grabbed a bat.
“Juliet?” I try to make my voice gentle, but it comes out low and rough with need.
She flinches, and the bat quivers in her fingers. But the weapon stays between us.
A bitter tint mixes with her normal scent.
Fear.
What scares our mate? We will DESTROY it!
We do,I tell my wolf. She’s scared of us.
That quiets the creature but leaves me reeling. She’s afraid of me, and the thought twists my gut.
What changed?
I would have understood her being afraid from the start. Juliet is a human, and humans usually associate the supernatural with monsters living in the shadows.
But she was snarking at me only a moment ago. I don’t know what triggered her. All I know is, she’s terrified now.
I consider leaving. Only there’s no guarantee an abrupt departure would alleviate Juliet’s fear. And I can’t abandon her like this. Frantic pants make her chest stutter. Pupils dilate until her eyes are almost as black as a wolf’s in the grip of high emotion.
My instinct is to fight. To find the source of her fear and eviscerate it.
There is no target though.
So, for her, I do the exact opposite of what a pack leader is supposed to do.
I submit.
With hands open wide, eyes downcast, head tilted to display my vulnerable neck, I slide from my chair and sink to the floor. Sitting cross-legged, I keep my gaze on Juliet’s fluffy socks and my arms relaxed at my sides.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The words are just a murmur, and I hope they help to soothe her frantic heart rate.
Then I wait.
A minute or so passes before there’s any noticeable slowing of her breath.
A smack of wood against the tiles reverberates through the kitchen when Juliet drops her bat. She leans back and slides down the cabinets until her butt hits the floor. Dejection sits heavy on her face, and she presses her fingers to her forehead, as if trying to physically push certain thoughts away.
“I know you’re not, Roderick.” Juliet says my name with extra emphasis, as if to remind herself who she is talking to. “I know. But when your eyes …”
My eyes?
Then I realize what happened. When my lust rose, they must have bled black.
Knowing that a werewolf’s eyes scare her reveals more about Juliet’s past than I think she wanted me to know.
A heavy sigh spills from her chest. “I just haven’t had the greatest experience with wolves.”
Anger spikes hot through me, and my wolf growls in silent fury.
She hasn’t had the greatest experience with wolves? An understatement with the way she lunged for that bat.
Which can only mean one thing.
