Page 7

“I don’t really give a fuck how you think I sound.” My voice shook. Goddess, my heart was eviscerated in my chest.

“Really? You look like you’re about to cry.” He straightened from the wall and stepped close, too close.

I could smell the wolf’s perfume on his clothes and bourbon on his breath. He dipped his head, his face an inch from mine.

“Or maybe you wish it was you I was kissing, that it was you I was taking home to fuck?”

The rough way he’d said it sent tingles down my spine even now.

“How you been, Jaz?” he asked.

Embarrassingly, I jumped, not expecting him to actually speak to me directly. I tucked my hair behind my ear, then hovered my fingers above the mourning cloak butterfly in my hair, feeling her wings flutter, trying to cover my reaction and calm myself down. “Um…yeah, fine.” I turned back to Wills. “Zinny wants to see Violet’s mural before we get our tattoos. Rome said he could do them today.”

Ren straightened. I wasn’t looking his way, but still I noticed the movement. I ignored that as well.

Violet let out a cry in Zinnia’s arms, and before Willow could reach for her, Ren was easing her out of Zinny’s arms and laying her carefully over his shoulder. “I got you, Vi,” he said in a low, rumbling voice that made my heart do all kinds of flips and flops in my chest.

Wills watched them, her heart in her eyes, then turned back to us. “I love that idea.” We followed her through the living room and along the short hall to the bedrooms. “So what tattoos are you getting?”

The tension in my spine eased the farther away from Ren we got, even though the feeling of longing that hit me when he was in the same vicinity had increased to painful levels.

“Our flowers together. Jaz designed it. Wait until you see it,” Zinnia said when I didn’t respond. My sister raised a brow, not missing how distracted I suddenly was. I grabbed her hand, ignoring the look, and led her to Violet’s room. I hadn’t told her how I felt about Ren. I didn’t want her worrying about me when she had her own stuff to deal with. I had a bruised ego and a broken heart, both of which I’d given myself. There wasn’t anything anyone could do about that but me.

“Holy shit, Jaz, this is amazing,” Zinnia said when we reached Violet’s room.

She stood at the door, and I watched as she stepped inside, taking it all in. Pride filled me. I’d put my heart and soul into every inch of wall I’d painted. I wanted Violet to look around and find something new every day. An insect or an animal, a flower or herb she hadn’t noticed before. There were animals sitting, sunning themselves with their families, others hidden behind trees and flowers and shrubs, a tail, an ear, a paw peeking out if you studied the walls hard enough. A tiny family of mice you really had to search for.

“It’s so beautiful,” Willow said. “The amount of time Jazzy spent making this room magical for our baby girl…I’ll never be able to repay her.”

“I told you I don’t want anything. I loved every minute of it.” I glanced to a spot in the corner and wondered if Willow had noticed the golden amber eyes glowing gently among the leaves and the tip of one pointed, orange ear. I hadn’t meant to do it, it just…happened. It was kind of humiliating, but I couldn’t bring myself to paint over it.

Had Ren seen it? There was no missing how much he adored Violet. He was Willow’s familiar, he was here all the time. He could have seen it.

I fought against the heat that traveled up my neck.

When we walked back into the living room, Vi still over Ren’s shoulder, with one of his scarred, rough-skinned hands supporting her little booty, the other on her back. He was swaying side to side as he talked to Warrick. My belly swooshed as he pressed his nose to her head, kissed her softly, and breathed in her scent.

He turned when we walked in, his gaze coming straight to me and lingering before it slid to Wills. During our argument, I told him to never look at me again. He hadn’t taken the note. Was he messing with me? I wasn’t sure what else to think because I still felt his eyes on me all the damn time.

I studiously ignored him as we walked back through the living room.

“Don’t forget movie night tonight,” Warrick said when I opened the door.

“We’ll be there,” Zinny said as we walked out.

“Catch,” Relic called and tossed me a bag of Peanut M&M’s.

I snatched them up. “Sweet, thanks.”

Once a week, the common room down in the den was made into a makeshift theater. Every Monday night the hounds rearranged the couches and chairs and set up the projector Willow got for them. She was trying to teach them about emotion and the right and wrong way to behave in different situations. The hounds felt loyalty, anger, lust, but tender emotions were a mystery to them, at least until they mated. I came most Mondays. The hounds’ commentary was worth it, even if some of the movie picks weren’t my fav. It had been Relic’s turn to choose last week, and he picked a gory ’70s flick, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I was hoping for less blood this time.

“Don’t say I don’t do anything for you,” he said and plonked down on one of the recliners.

“I would never.” I grinned at him as I opened the bag and shoved a handful in my mouth.

Zinny scooted down and opened her bag of Skittles. Hemlock was curled around her neck, getting comfy. “What are we watching?”

I bumped Roman with my elbow. “Do you know what movie we’re watching?”