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“I already feel like the main character of my own dramatic series,” she complained. “Don’t tell me my life in the past four months couldn’t be a classic Netflix series or some shit. Gender-bending wolf shifter badass trying to figure out who the fuck she is while balancing two worlds.”
“Will there be loads of sex?” Arthur dared to ask.
“Duh. Sex, fighting, death, chaos. Let me almost die at the end and be revived and boom. My series would be renewed for at least three seasons.”
“I’d be in the fourth one!” Arthur beamed at the idea.
“And canceled by Netflix,” Willow concluded.
“You’re so cruel to me, master,” Arthur whined. “I’m the best part!”
“The viewers wouldn’t be able to handle you,” Willow dismissed.
“But you can handle me,” Arthur noted before he quietly added, “Right?”
She opened her eyes just slightly to peer up at him as he paused the massage to give her his utmost attention.
“I’ll always be able to handle you, Arthur,” she attested without a hint of dismay. “Though seeing you without a shirt isn’t good for my blood pressure.”
There he went, grinning like a fucking fool.
I didn’t know if it was the sight of them conversing so casually that was annoying me or the fact that he was comforting her when that was my role for the night that made me want to separate them.
Either way, the longer Arthur was in the equation, the harder it was becoming for me to remain quiet about his presence.
So my wolf decided to be an ass.
He pushed into control. My acknowledgment of the switch was far too late to stop him from stating, “Shouldn’t you be elsewhere, Arthur?”
I immediately grabbed the reins with a mental curse.
You fucking douche.
“Stop being a fucking coward ass bitch and man the fuck up,”my wolf countered.“We’re her Master, if you fucking forgot. Stop being intimidated by that psycho hell wolf and make a claim on our woman!”
“Oh. Ya!” He didn’t even sound the slightest bit offended as he continued to give Willow his temple massage. “Ruby told me to take a break while she and Whitney finish the final patterns for the new outfits.”
“New outfits?” Willow muttered as her eyes closed once more. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to make anything in less than an hour, Arthur. What is it? Forty-five minutes until the runway begins? I was supposed to have an outfit for William and Willow. We can’t accomplish that now. No brand can even get us all outfits due to the road closures everywhere thanks to the lovely fires still being put out through the city.”
“Now, Sweet Domino, when have you been a party-pooper?”
“I’m not a party p—” She didn’t finish. I watched Arthur close the distance between them, his lips landing on hers in a kiss that only made my blood boil.
Willow was simply left in a moment of astonishment before Arthur pulled back enough to look down at her face.
“Are you scared?”
The question was so random and spoken so softly, and yet it cut through the webs of emotional despair that were clearly leaving Willow in a sour mood.
“A little,” she finally confessed. “You really just like kissing me without permission.”
“Can I kiss you?” he decided to ask this time, and I expected her to deny him, but she sighed.
“Will it make you less scared?” she questioned back.
He’s scared?
Arthur sweetly smirked as he leaned down and whispered against her lips, “Ya.”
