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Wasting his time? Just when I think I’ve heard it all from him. And my wolf wonders why I want nothing to do with this asshole.
I haven’t yet controlled my rage before his eyes take a slow tour of my body. “You do look nice wrapped up in a sheet, but I would much rather you not be wearing it.”
“It’s cold in here,” I point out, pulling the sheet tighter around me. “You brought me here naked, fresh out of the shower, so I had to come up with something.”
“That doesn’t have to be a problem. I could keep you warm.”
“The clothes you brought will do just fine.”
He glances at the bag, frowning. “I could take them away.”
“Enough. I’m worried about my family. What if they think I was killed last night or kidnapped by the witches?”
He has the nerve to roll his eyes. “That’s what all the screaming was about? They don’t think that.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Because anybody who goes to your room looking for you will pick up my scent along with yours. And we already confirmed last night that none of our kind were lost in the fight.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Did I ask whether you felt better? I’m telling you the facts.”
“You don’t sound like you care very much.”
He lifts a shoulder I would like to break. Maybe then he’d be willing to meet me halfway. “Because I don’t. There’s nothing anyone in your pack can do about this, and the sooner they figure that out, the better.”
“Even my father? He’s not exactly a nobody. You realize what this could set off, right?”
Another shrug. “He has no say over what I do with you. You’ve been marked. That bond is stronger than the relationship you have with your family.”
Frustrated tears threaten to fill my eyes, but I force them back using sheer willpower. Now is not the time for that. I can cry when I’m alone, if I cry at all. “Where is here? Where am I?”
“No, little wolf. That’s not how this works. I came in here to address your concerns, and I have. You don’t get to keep asking questions.”
“I’m not even allowed to know where you’ve brought me?”
“What difference does it make?”
“What is this, some kind of secret sex dungeon you put together?”
He snorts before laughing full out, and the sound curdles my blood. Laughing at me, this piece of shit. “A secret sex dungeon? No, there’s nothing secret about it.”
“Excuse me? What does that mean?”
“It means you’re in my family home. There, happy? I answered your question.”
“Your home? You brought me all the way to your pack territory?”
“Where did you think I was taking you?”
“How the hell was I supposed to know? You had me blindfolded. So…” I can barely bring myself to say it because it feels ridiculous, but it’s logical. “Does your family know I’m here?”
“Of course.” Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like I’m crazy for asking. What kind of family is this? What sort of pack?
I’m not sure what to say or what to think.
He doesn’t give me much opportunity to come up with anything, either. “The time for discussion is over.” He then unceremoniously pushes me back onto the bed. “It’s time to get down to the real reason we’re here.”
“You can’t be serious.” I fight my way out from under him, but he only pulls me back, laughing the harder I struggle. I can’t bite back a frustrated cry when he works his hands under the sheet, pulling it away from my body.
“Stop pretending,” he growls, pinning me with his hands around my wrists, holding them against the mattress. The sheets are slippery and smooth, but there’s no slipping out of his grasp. “We both hear your wolf and know what she wants. Why are you torturing yourself like this?”
“Because I still get a say!”
“Says who? You need to stop living in a fantasy world and accept reality.” He rolls his hips, and it’s all I can do to silence a whimper of pure need. As much as I wish my wolf would forget the frenzy he drove us to last night, the fact is my body can’t forget, either. And when he’s like this, reminding me of everything he’s done—and everything he could do—I can almost imagine myself breaking down, giving in.
But that would mean letting him win. And I can’t do that. I won’t. “No.”
“We’ll see.” Then he lowers his head, and I could weep with relief when his lips touch my throat. Mate, mate. It’s my wolf’s favorite word, like a drum beat echoing in my head while I fight as hard as I can not to lose myself to the scorching kisses Wilde leaves on my skin. Like it wasn’t enough to mark me with his bite. He has to burn himself onto my skin. He wants to brand me, and I’d swear he is since it feels like I’m on fire.
