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Black fur rippled down my arm and my nails sharpened to points.
Using a single claw, I punctured the fleshy part of Thomas’s palm.
Dark chocolate and cherries tickled my nose when I sniffed him. Stars, this whole ritual was weird.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, releasing his hand. “You smell good, but it does nothing for me.”
Thomas scrubbed his uninjured hand along the back of his neck and nodded.
“Yeah, okay.” I appreciated his easy acceptance, though it was obvious he was disappointed.
My heart panged for him, but it didn’t stop me from moving on to the next man in line.
I’d gotten through ten before I had to pull away and sneeze from the onslaught of scents.
Dason and Jolon were guarding me every step of the way, and I leaned into Dason and took the deepest breath I could—soap, spice, and musk. It was an earthy, manly scent I couldn’t get enough of.
“God, that’s good,” I groaned, and my body relaxed. That was the power my men had over me.
“You like my scent?” Dason asked, his voice all growly and hot.
My gaze roamed up his body, his muscular chest, corded throat, and strong jaw. He was studying me with a yellow gaze, his puma close to the surface if the slits in his eyes were any indication.
His question was probably rhetorical, because how could he not know? But I wanted to give him the answer anyway.
“I always have,” I admitted, lost in the world he created just between the two of us. The rest of this fucked up event didn’t exist as we stared at each other.
That low tug in my stomach started up again, and my feet moved before I’d even processed my intent. Closer.
His hands skimmed down my back, and I realized this was the closest, most intimate we’d ever been.
And it was in front of about two hundred people.
My muscles tensed, my body stiffened.
Was this just a jealous reaction? Did he truly want me? Or was his primal spirit forcing his hand, unhappy to share me, however briefly, with these other potential suitors.
“I can’t do this right now,” I murmured quietly, pulling away and giving him my back.
All this mating stuff was too hard to process. There was a reason my dating record firmly sat with only one mark on it until I met my mates. Reading men wasn’t my specialty. I was more comfortable with my books and fictional boyfriends than with putting my heart on the line.
At least, that was part of the reason for my lack of relationship status in my teenage years.
It didn’t help that I was basically a freak with messed up magick.
Now I was a freak with mixed, undesirable parentage.
Let alone my little shade problem, and the extra responsibility of being the veil keeper.
I didn’t truly fit anywhere.
Hell, those guys in the rejected section? They were probably lucky to escape my hot mess.
Sighing, I went back to work. Ten men. Then twenty with no potential suitors.
Jolon touched my shoulder and turned me toward him. His hand cupped my face gently.
“You need a break. Sy’s got a plate of food for you. You hungry?”
