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“Yes, I can.” Forcefully leading her out of the library, I end up accidentally groping her ass a little.
She’s got a really great ass.
So supple. Each cheek is more than a handful. I want to squeeze it while she’s riding me. I want to feel the flesh bulge through each of my fingers like clay.
Shaking my head, I mentally scold myself for having such thoughts at a time like this.
Right now my biggest concern is making sure every lycan in this building dies.
Looking affronted at the way I’m pushing her around, Ro drags her feet. “What do you expect me to do? Stand out here and watch you get torn apart?”
“First of all, I won’t get torn apart. Second, you’re going to be in the private suite below us. You’ll be safe until I’m done.”
“Stuck, you mean. I’ll be trapped there.”
Cutting off any additional arguments—because I’m certain she’s got more to say—I hook an arm around her waist, anchor her to my body, and leap into the air.
Spreading my wings, I let the wind work for me as we float down a level. There’s a smaller balcony under the one branching from the library, and it has just enough room for two people.
The double doors to the suite aren’t locked. Thankfully.
I wouldn’t have wanted to break a window and draw the lycans’ attention elsewhere. I need them to stay in the library where they’ll be so busy sniffing me out, they won’t realize I’ve outsmarted their mangy hides.
Nudging the door open as quietly as I can, I go inside the bedroom. From the dilapidated state of it, Ro’s time in here won’t be fun, but she’ll be protected.
Above us, the lycans have fully invaded the library. There’s clattering. Glass breaks. Some scuffles, growls, and vicious snarls come next.
They just knocked over the table, and my plan to get them to turn on each other over a bit of food is working. A few of them might even kill one another and do my job for me.
“I can help you,” Ro declares. “I know how to use a knife. You saw me stab Zarid.”
It’s not that I don’t think she can defend herself. I’ve witnessed her courage multiple times.
But I’ve also seen her freeze up.
“How’s your panic condition?” I ask.
Shame causes her gaze to flit away. “Better. I’m really sorry about that. I don’t know why it happens when it does, but I won’t let it happen again.I won’t. I won’t.”
“It’s not cowardly to react to your fear,” I tell her with understanding. “It’s natural.”
“I want to be brave for you.”
Taking her hand, I squeeze it, and I’m completely sincere when I say, “You are. I’m not doubting you. It’s me. When I’m worried about you, I experience a similar type of freezing. You saw it in the courtyard. I couldn’t speak up when I needed to.”
“That was different. You were in so much pain.”
I shake my head. “I’d like to blame the pain, but my physical discomfort wasn’t the main reason I was unable to act. The thought of losing you is debilitating. It makes me so crazy I can’t think, and it’s worse now than it was before.”
Confused, she narrows her eyes. “It’s worse? It doesn’t seem worse. You’ve been very professional since the start of the second challenge.”
My stone-faced exterior is cracking. Yes, I’ve been pretty good at suppressing my affection, but it’s like trying to plug a leaking beer barrel that’s been shot by a dozen arrows.
Only my heart is the barrel, and I simply don’t have enough hands to keep the holes in check.
Ro and I are on the cusp of the conversation I’ve been avoiding. The one where I’m going to profess my love for her, and she’s going to let me down as gently as she can because she’s kind.
“You’re my purpose,” I say. “You know that.”
