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He lowers his head slowly and presses his lips to mine. I refuse to open my mouth, so he licks along the seam, languidly, like he has all the time in the world. His other hand grips my ass, pulling me even closer, and I gasp.
His tongue slips into my mouth, and everything fades away. He demands, and I give. He pulls back, biting my lower lip, and then surges back in. It’s an invasion, a hostile takeover delivered with the sexiest bow.
I groan and inch my hands up his chest until I wrap them around the back of his neck, clinging to him.
He pulls his mouth from mine and stares down at me as if he’s confused. He sweeps my hair back and cups my cheek.
“You’re turning our world upside down, and I don’t know if inviting the wolf to the door will be our making or undoing.”
I frown. “I don’t understand.”
He clucks his tongue. “Never mind.” He lets me go, stepping back and straightening his shirt. “Have a nice evening, Miss Scarlet.”
I watch him cross the room and slip out of a different door, leaving me all alone. My lips tingle, and the taste of mint lingers in my mouth.
I don’t know which one of us won that battle; I suspect neither. Strategic retreat. I shake my head and wander back to the kitchen.
My plate is empty.
I stare at it, feeling a murderous rage rise. Taylor’s kiss floods my mind. Barren’s scent. Gold’s feral sounds.
My food. Mine. I don’t know if I’m talking about the food or them. All I know is someone took what was mine.
I growl low under my breath, bite the sound off as soon as I realise what I’m doing. My hands shake as I pick up the plate and carry it to the sink.
It’s happening again. I have to control it. I go through the grounding exercises, but they don’t help at all. This is because of Gold. Something has triggered my instincts. I can’t get the lid on them closed.
I scrub the plate until my fingers ache and then place it in the drying rack. Then I leave the house, finding Annie’s car gone. That upsets me even more, but I can’t say why. I slip through the shadows to sit in the gazebo. The cold helps to pierce the rage, and I force myself to sit perfectly still, breathing through the stabbing pain until it eases and I have control again.
When it’s gone and I feel steady but tired, I draw my knees to my chest and stare at the white wood with the heart and our initials.
Gold.
A snap of fury, and I close my eyes, burning, the feelings bubble up like lava. I force myself back into calmness, focusing on the sweet scent of the flowers all around me.
“What’s going on here?”
I let out a tiny sound of surprise. But coffee on the breeze eases my tension. “Acton?”
“What’s going on here?” He repeats louder.
I hesitate before I speak. “Rut.”
He stiffens and then eases closer, sitting on the gazebo seat beside me. I can sense his confusion as easily as I can read it on his face. “Explain?”
I sigh. “I paid a therapist, like, a thousand dollars an hour to find this out, but apparently, lack of family, being on my own, suppressing who I am and not using the normal channels of sex or violence to calm myself means I get crazy obsessive of my belongings every now and then.” I shrug like it doesn’t matter, but the weight of my weakness makes me sag.
“How did you find that out?” Acton asks.
“When I almost killed one of my pack when he went through my purse and stole money from me. Normally, it’s fine, but on this particular day, I took it as a violation, as a challenge.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “I almost killed him.”
They’d been horrified. It was the start, no, it was starting before then, but that moment changed things in our pack dynamic for the worse. I’d started working longer hours. They hadn’t invited me to do things with the pack. I was a ghost in the house. No one said the words unwelcome or unwanted, but it was a silent message written in every aspect of our lives. That rift widened over the six years until that morning when they’d stared at me, silently begging me to be the person none of them could.
Acton is still silent.
“Do you hate me now?” I say it like a joke. Asking with a laugh. But, inside, I’m quaking.
“No. I don't. I’m wondering how hard it must have been for you in order to cause your biology to change and adapt.”
