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“My magic is never lacking.” Her voice shook with the force of her anger. No one disparaged her abilities. If he wasn’t her lover he’d be dead on the floor for that slight.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m frustrated.”
It was as close to an apology as she’d get. Tucking a lock of long red hair behind her ear, she took a breath and sought calm. “I’m not happy about this, either.”
He grabbed his phone and issued an order to the underling that answered. “Find them. Whatever it takes, find Devlin Moore and the woman.” He tossed the phone down and sat back in his chair.
Along with a veritable fortune, Charles had amassed an army of younger male wolves who were discontented in their packs and hungry for money and power and the thrill of the hunt. He provided them an opportunity for all three. He had skilled hackers at his disposal and money for bribes, if necessary. Added to the boots on the ground, there was nowhere in the city the wolf and his woman could hide.
“As soon as my people find them, I’m going after the white wolf myself.”
“The woman is the key,” she reminded him. “Get her and the white wolf will surrender. If we kill her outright, we lose any leverage we have. He could easily disappear for decades. In the meantime, you need to relax.” He was difficult to handle when he was upset. Fortunately, she knew exactly how to soothe him.
She rose, all sensual grace, and sauntered around the barrier. Licking her lush lips, she perched on the edge of the desk. “Trust me. We’ll not only trap him, we’ll steal his immortality.” The very idea aroused her.
They’d been lovers for a century. Charles was her perfect match—ruthless, power-hungry, and greedy. He shoved her skirt to her waist, nostrils flaring when he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties. “I trust you not to disappoint me.” He shoved up from his seat and bent her over the desk. Releasing his cock, he fucked her hard and without mercy.
“Yes. Harder.” She bucked under him, groaning for more. Soon she’d be immortal. Would finally have everything she deserved.
She’d kill anyone who got in her way.
Chapter Nine
Zoe hissed as the water stung her skin. The tub wasn’t half full, but it was more than enough. She wasn’t here for a long soak but to clean away the blood and dirt. It was a shame, though. She loved baths and it had been years since she’d been able to indulge in one. Her tiny shower kept her clean, but it wasn’t the same.
Using the washcloth, she gingerly rubbed her skin, all the while trying to forget Devlin was a few feet away with nothing more than a thin wall separating them. Her eyes drifted shut. She jolted and sat upright, swallowing a groan at the sudden movement.
She didn’t want to look at her arm but forced herself. The gash was long but mostly superficial except for about four inches near her shoulder. Probably caught a nail. God, she was going to need a tetanus shot.
It could have been worse. So much worse. She’d lived through the event, but it seemed like a bad dream. Maybe she’d lost her mind and imagined it all. That was more comforting than the other possibility—that werewolves were real. If she wasn’t in shock, she’d probably be hysterical. It was too much for her mind to process. Dealing with her injuries was as much as she could handle.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed up on her knees. Nothing seemed to be broken. It was going to be uncomfortable getting around for a couple of days, but that was better than the alternative. She could have died tonight, would’ve if Devlin hadn’t come to her rescue.
She pressed a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. Tossing her cookies would only make things worse. Counting to three, she gripped the sides of the tub and stood. A shower might’ve been easier to navigate, but she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stand. Her legs were shaky, her knees like jelly.
After carefully stepping onto the bathmat, she grabbed the towel and patted her skin. Once dry, she looked at herself in the mirror. Blood no longer stained her skin, but it was still seeping out of the wound on her arm. Grabbing a smaller towel, she wrapped it around the injury. Her face was pale. No surprise there.
Dark splotches covered her arms, torso, and the fronts of her thighs where huge paws had struck her. Turning around, she peered over her shoulder. Yup, her back was bruised, too, along with a minor case of road rash from where she’d skidded over the floor. Her shirt had offered some protection, but there was a small area below her right shoulder that was nasty.
“You okay in there?”
Startled, she tipped to the side and hit her hip on the vanity. “Damn it.”
“Zoe?”
“Give me a second.” It took more effort than it should’ve to pull on the shirt he’d left her. The shoulder seams sagged partway down her arms. The hem almost hit her knees. It was strangely intimate to be wearing a piece of his clothing. She rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric, catching a hint of his woodsy scent. It was both comforting and arousing, causing her nipples to tighten. Ignoring the involuntary reaction, she worked the buttons, or tried to. Her hand-eye coordination wasn’t what it should be.
“I’m coming in.” Before she could tell him to stay out, the door opened. His fierce frown had her heart picking up its pace. Seeing her predicament, he gently pushed her hands aside. Starting at the top, he briskly fastened the buttons. The backs of his knuckles brushed against her, making her shudder. A muscle in his jaw flexed.
He worked in silence until he reached the final one. Then he began to roll up the sleeves that covered her hands. His breathing deepened, his chest expanding with each lungful of air he took in.
“I’m getting blood on your shirt.”
“I don’t care.”
This close, and under the harsh bathroom lights, she could see his every feature clearly. His hair was as white as fresh snow and tumbled around his broad shoulders, but his eyelashes and brows were dark. His cheekbones were defined. His nose was the perfect size and shape for his face. His lips were firm and pressed together. When he glanced at her, she was caught in his gaze. She’d never seen another person with eyes like hers.
“Is your coloring hereditary or a form of albinism?” She covered her mouth with her hand as soon as the words had escaped. “I’m sorry, that was incredibly rude. I shouldn’t have asked. I know what it’s like to have people staring and pointing.” She gestured to her eyes.
