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“Oh, it’s Rocky,” Frankie crooned, trying for affectionate, and ending with tipsy. “Still want to marry me?” She batted her eyes suggestively, then laughed.
At the nickname, Rock’s jaw tensed, his gaze falling to Jace. If her naked form did anything for the white wolf, he didn’t show it. “I don’t know what you think is going on here, but—”
“I’m taking her home.” Jace interrupted. “That’s all.”
His gaze was so intense it made Frankie’s head spin.
“She’smyresponsibility.” Rock growled.
The fire in Jace’s eyes grew murderous, his eyes flashing to his wolf, though his voice remained eerily calm. “And if it wasn’t for me you would have let her drown herself on the dance floor.” Those last words were spoken through nearly clenched teeth.
Rock stiffened slightly. Lip curling. “I didn’t anticipate this kind of behavior from a fellow packmaster.”
Jace scoffed dismissively. “Fuck off with that bullshit, Rock. I’ve seen you drunk as a skunk more than once. Cut the misogyny.”
Rock bristled but didn’t protest. He glanced between them, warily, before he turned his gaze back toward Jace. “I expect you to see her home, safely. That’s an order.”
“I don’t take orders from you or anyone, Rock.” Jace shook his head. “But she’ll be safe withme.” Even in her drunken state, Frankie recognized the emphasis on that last word.
Rock didn’t say anything, simply nodded, before he turned and stalked out the door.
Frankie was still swaying, and attempting to fan herself, when suddenly Jace was directing her to shrug into his leather jacket, after only managing to pull her dress up over her waist.
He zipped up her jacket, ignoring her bare breasts before him with another mutter of “You couldn’t make this easy” to which she only stuck out her lip and pouted.
“Why won’t you touch me?” she whined.
“Later,” he grumbled with small smirk, his words a dark promise.
He carried her back down the stairs again, and then out to his car, but she sat down the moment her feet touched the curb. “I think I’m just going to stay here a bit,” she muttered, before he promptly scooped her up again.
He loaded her into the vehicle with an almost clinical patience and care.
His touch only purposeful, never explorative.
Much to her disappointment. She supposed shewasdrunk. Though she didn’t want to be.
It wasn’t until he’d closed them safely in the room at the Imperial, that he pointed toward the bed and said, “Sleep.”
Frankie stuck out her lip again.
“That’s an order, Princess.”
She grumbled at him, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she needed to sleep this off. She collapsed into the bed, sleep claiming her in a way it hadn’t in the past several days, because with him beside her, she knew what’d he’d promised Amarok was true.
She was safe.
Safe in a wolf hunter’s arms.
A large handclamped down on Thomas’s shoulder. The voice of the shadowed man echoed as he said, “You will not be limited by mortal bounds.” His voice filled the small clearing where they stood, the forest painted in blue hues as if the brush were made of the sky.
Thomas’s eyes widened. A light sparked in his irises, and a smirk spread across his face. “You mean I’ll be immortal?”
The shadowed man stepped in front of him. “Don’t overestimate your abilities. No one is immortal but the gods. You will age, but at a slow pace, and no minor wound will harm you, but make no mistake, your time will come. Like your father, someday you must pass down your power. You will choose when that time is. A respectful son shall wait until the time is right, just as you must wait now.”
“Like a respectful son…” Thomas looked up into the face of the shadowed man, who towered over him in his enormity. “What do I do now?” he asked.
“Go. Return to your rightful place at your father’s side. He will tell you when his time is up. Until then, learn what wisdom you can from him. Great power lies ahead of you.”
