Page 52 of Rejected By the Winter Wolf

But, as nice as that was, he brought me right back to his house and guided me upstairs. I wasn’t locked in the spare room, but it was strongly advised that I don’t leave until we head out in the morning. The chill in my bones returned almost immediately.

I didn’t attempt to scry again.

Now, I slip from bed and tiptoe to the door. It takes me a moment to push the dresser aside, wincing at the scraping noise. I get it back enough to crack the door and slip into the hall. Kian has yet to return my bag, although I have a sneaking suspicion that he stubbornly has it hidden somewhere.

If I tell him I want it, he’ll never give it back.

I set my jaw. The first chance I get to escape, I’m taking it. But first, I want to find my stuff.

The door to his bedroom is open. The faint glow of a fire in the grate is the only light source, and I creep closer. I pause and listen, then continue. When I get to the doorway, I scan the room.

Empty.

I enter.

It’s a few degrees colder in here, even with the fire. The windows are open, as are the large doors that lead to a balcony. I didn’t attempt to go out there when he made me rest here, and I avoid it now.

I check his closet first. It’s full of the smell of him. It isn’t unpleasant, but it’s unwelcome in my nose. I can’t help but catalog it anyway.

Sandalwood.

The way it smells before it rains.

I inhale deeper, then force myself to move along when I come up empty-handed.

I grit my teeth and search under his bed, then in the bathroom.

Nothing.

“Come on.” It has to be here. Somewhere.

“Looking for something?”

I almost jump out of my skin.

Kian stands in the doorway, leaning on the jamb. His arms are crossed, but it doesn’t really hide… any of him.

He’s naked. Again.

“Why are you naked?” I turn away, covering my eyes. I’ve decided that if I’m going to survive this, I can’t keep staring at his dick. Because I do. Every time he’s fucking naked, I’m drawn to his abs and his mysterious tattoos, and then my eyes naturally go lower.

“Because my wolf doesn’t like clothes.”

There’s a click as his door shuts.

“Why are you in my room, Astra?”

“I was hoping to find some better clothes than the same shirt and shorts I’ve been wearing for who knows how long.”

He hums. “And where would you find that?”

“In my bag, which I’m convinced you have hidden somewhere.”

He brushes past me, disappearing into his closet. When he reemerges, I peek at him. He’s got sweatpants on. No shirt, of course. He catches me looking and grins.

Then tosses me something.

I snatch it out of the air, then narrow my eyes. The bundle is my clothes, folded and rolled and tied together with twine.