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The way he’d torn into Chet hadn’t been like a hunter. Hell, it hadn’t even been like an alpha wolf. It’d been like a mate.
Her shoulders stiffened, filling her with unease.No.She shook her head.Not a chance.
She couldn’t allow herself to go down that line of thinking. Not when she was promised to another for the betterment of her pack. Her mind was reeling. That’s all. Jumping to conclusions in order to explain how the foundations of her world had been shaken. Anything to find an explanation of how a man who was supposed to be her enemy had sacrificed everything for her.
Like she was someone.
Like she mattered.
Even though he barely knew her.
If he heard her question, he didn’t bother to answer. Nor did he miss a beat in his step. Still not entirely certain what she was doing, she trailed after him.
He marched right up to the apartment entryway before he paused and entered the door code. As soon as the green button lit up, he pushed inside and they both paraded up the stairs.
They climbed two flights and finally reached a shabby wooden door sporting a pitted brass number six hanging a little too far to the right. He pulled a key—on a chain like a dog tag—from inside his shirt and jammed it into the lock. The tumblers clicked, and Frankie followed him into the run-down apartment.
Bleak. That was the one word to describe the small space. A flattened, faded, brown couch sat in the middle of the room, facing an arms closet and T.V. From the dust on the screen, it was rarely, if ever, used. A small gas stove, a refrigerator, and of course, every man’s best cooking pal, a microwave, sat against the far wall—no division between the living room and the makeshift kitchen. An open door stood across from her, leading into what appeared to be his bedroom. The faint scent of long dissipated cigarette smoke hung in the air.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” she said as he herded her farther inside.
He shot a glare toward her, ignoring her sarcasm before he closed the door behind them.
Standing there, almost naked save for his coat, she watched him wander into the bedroom, peel off his shirt and throw it onto the bed. “It’s a burner apartment. HQ won’t track us here.”
In other words, a safe space he’d kept for exactly a time like this.
What was going on at Execution Underground Headquarters that he’d had that kind of foresight?
She glanced around, fighting the urge to ask what the hell they were doing here. She could still feel where the silver handcuffs had burned her skin. Why hadn’t she left already? She didn’t owe this jerk a damn thing.
No matter if he’d saved her. Defended her.
She glanced up again, and her breath stopped short as the hunter turned and met her gaze. A warm flush crept through her, and a flood of heat pooled in her core. His appeal in the alleyway was nothing compared to the rugged man who stood before her now. In the light, his dark auburn hair glistened and the vibrancy in his emerald eyes took on a life of its own.
With his shirt gone, he sported a pair of low, straight-legged jeans that conveniently hugged his muscular body in all the right places. She slouched in on herself, trying to hide her interest. Now that she knew what he was, she could admit there was attraction there, even if she couldn’t explain it, and the thought of his hair brushing against her cheek while he laid her down crossed her mind. She tensed at the thought. She shouldn’t evenbehere.
Let alone be thinking about him like this.
She lowered her stare to the floor. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m getting the hell outta here.” A moment later, when she dared look at him again, all the air rushed from her lungs. His eyes ran over her, like he could smell exactly what sort of thoughts were going through her head—hell, he likely could—and she could have sworn his irises flashed a hint of gold, the familiar color of a wolf’s
She shook her head.
“Nobody’s stopping you,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re free to leave.” He looked at her for another long moment before he walked into his room. He returned with a fresh shirt on, a white ribbed undershirt that hugged the muscles of his chest closely.
Which didn’t make what she had to do any easier.
He stalked toward her, his gait smooth and graceful like an animal’s. At the sudden onslaught, she stumbled and nearly bumped into the door. Her whole body froze. She clenched her thighs together as a wave of desire rolled through her, leaving her hot and ready.
Whydid he have to prowl toward her like that?
“Here,” he said, offering her the handle of a gun she didn’t realize he’d been carrying. “If Chet or anyone else tries to fuck with you, use it.”
Reluctantly, she took the weapon. The weight of the standard nine-millimeter felt strange against her palm. She knew how to use a gun, how to shoot. She was even a decent shot, but among her kind, weapons came second to what she could do in her wolf-form. Though he clearly thought she’d need it.
Accepting the sign of peace for what it was, she tucked it into the trench coat pocket. “Thank you,” she whispered.
At that, he turned away from her again, heading toward the arms closet.
