AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was just handling the Glock Warren had provided for him when Mary’s voice entered his mind. Fergus?
Yes?
Warren put some ham steaks in the fridge for you. I’m cooking you up a solid meal, and I insist you eat before you head out. The milk isn’t nearly enough to nourish you right now and that’s your doctor speaking.
His doctor? His vet, because he wasn’t a man anymore. He was a Goddamn animal. Still, he liked that she was looking out for him.
Okay. He fished out his shaving gear, but that’s when he caught the aroma of the meat. He dropped the kit on the bed and was moving before he’d formed the thought.
The wolf in him knew what he needed and he levitated swiftly back to the kitchen.
Mary chuckled as she drew a plate down from the cupboard. She didn’t offer a single comment as she slapped the fried ham down on the ceramic and handed it to him.
He felt like a freight train of must-e
at-now.
He took the plate as well as the knife and fork she passed to him and moved to the table near the island. Some part of him was fully aware he was still in his gladiator briefs, but he didn’t care. He could feel the skewer scar on his heart like a hard pebble reminding him he’d almost died.
He needed this meal because he had a job to do. He had to retake his pack before Sydon did any more damage. He glanced outside. Shit, at least an hour before the sun set.
He ate.
He ignored the rose-yarrow scent Mary exuded, the one that kept his cock twitching every other second.
Coffee came next, a large mug. He drank and didn’t care that he burned his mouth a little. He sent healing to his tongue and fixed himself up.
Scrambled eggs were next. Then another ham steak. He ate, drank, and ate some more.
Mary didn’t try to engage him in conversation. He was an alter wolf with a powerful need to take in sustenance that was more canine than human. His survival relied on the constant attention to his basic drives.
Protein kept him physically strong and ready to take on the enemy.
He thought back to the dominance battle. Where had Sydon concealed the skewer?
He already knew: At the seamline on the underside of his wrist guard. A small trigger-spring could have gotten the deed accomplished. The flurry of kicks and punches afterward that had cracked so many ribs had no doubt disguised a pinhole in his upper abdomen.
And of course, he shifted into his wolf form, further restricting a view of the wound.
Sydon had committed a perfectly executed illegal maneuver. If Fergus had died in the Graveyard, no one would have been the wiser.
~ ~ ~
Mary leaned her hip against the kitchen sink, one arm pressed over her stomach as though trying to hold back all that she was sensing and feeling.
Sometimes it was freaking hard to be a fae woman of some ability. In this case, she could sense Fergus’s shift in focus, his almost desperate need for food, and that he was in an aroused state around her most of the time.
She just didn’t know what to do with it all. And she really didn’t understand why Fergus was even in her life. Of course part of her current predicament was completely her fault. Clearly lacking even a particle of self-control where Fergus was concerned, she’d taken him as her dreamglide lover. She still couldn’t believe she’d engaged with him in that way.
Though who could blame her when Fergus was nothing short of a god among men. He stood six-five in his bare feet and his features were rugged yet handsome at the same time.
She stared at the back of his head. His long black hair excited her. The male wolves of Savage grew their hair out as a matter of course. She was pretty sure it had to do with the fur they produced when they shifted into wolves. Whatever the case, she found it absurdly sexy. She wanted to touch it even now. She also had a strong feeling she did that a lot when they made love.
A sudden dreamglide image shot through her head of Fergus face down on her bed. She was lying on top of him and kissing his broad shoulders and muscular back, one hand holding a thick sheaf of his hair as she bit and licked him. Was this really her?
Apparently, he’d loved what she did to him. ‘More,’ his gravelly wolf’s voice had murmured. ‘God, I can’t get enough of what you’re doing to me.’
‘And I love your body.’ How hoarse her voice sounded within the memory, almost more wolf than fae.
