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“You’re Shade’s lover?” Holy crazy werewolves, is this the one-night stand he was talking about?
She perks up, her stance straightening. “He mentioned me?”
“Um, sort of.”
“What’d he say?”
Shit. What the hell do I tell her?
“That you’re … awesome?”
Her lip juts out. “What does that mean?”
There’s that translation problem again. “Um … That … Shit.”
“You know what, I think you’re insulting me.” She ambles across the field with her hand on her hip, her fingers folding around the silver handle of a sword. “And I think that’s because you’re sleeping with him. Is that it? Did he decide to downgrade from top-shelf quality?”
Wow. I feel so insulted. Not enough to insult her back, though.
“I’m not sleeping with Shade.” I crack open the door, debating whether being out here with her and her silver sword is worse than going into the shed with Slate. “He’s not even my type.”
“Ha! Now I know you’re lying. He’s every creature’s type.” She draws her sword, and the pungent scent of silver assaults the air. “And now you must die.”
“For what?” I gape at her. “I didn’t do anything.”
“For lying and for sleeping with my wolf.” She stops in front of me with her legs spread, the sword poised in front of her. “Any last words, ugly, little wolf?”
“Yeah, take your snaky, leathery face and go slither off into the trees.” I kick her in the kneecap then whirl around and dive into the shed. “Holy nutjob pixies,” I breathe with my back pressed against the door.
“Lake? What are you doing in here?”
I jolt, turning to the side and finding Rune, Shade, and Jules all staring at me. Jules is shirtless, his chest drenched in sweat. Shade has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and blood coats his knuckles. Slate is nowhere to be seen, but the place reeks of black roses, so he must be somewhere in the vicinity.
I point over my shoulder. “Shade’s crazy pixie lover is outside, and she wants to kill me because she thinks I’m sleeping with him.”
“Dammit, not again,” Shade curses as he swings around me and storms out of the shed, slamming the door behind him.
“You okay?” Jules frantically skims me over, searching for any injuries.
“I’m fine.” I force a smile. “I kicked her ass.”
He wipes a trail of sweat off his chest with his hand. “I bet you did.”
“I totally did.” And I totally want to lick the sweat off his chest, a desire I’m pretty positive I can blame on my wolf.
“Good. You can’t let pixies push you around. They’ll just push harder.” A droplet of sweat trickles down his chest, making a path down to the waistband of his pants.
“Why are you all sweaty?” I wonder, tearing my focus off the sweat bead.
He collects his T-shirt from off the ground. “I was … talking to Slate, which required me being in a room made entirely of silver.”
I remember how his skin blistered from wearing those silver rings. “Are you okay?”
He nods, tugging his shirt on. “I’m fine. I promise. It’s just a little hot in there.”
I glimpse around the shed. “Where is he, exactly?”
“Locked in a room upstairs.” He grazes his fingers along my cheek. “Don’t worry; the walls are covered with silver, including the inside door and the floor. There’s no way he can get out.”
