Behind me there’s a swoosh, then a soft thud – the sound of clothes dropping to the floor.
“Pax, what are you doing?” I mumble – but I don’t bother opening my eyes, or pulling the blankets back, or even properly putting my head on one of the pillows.
“Listening to Thane.”
“What’s Thane doing?”
“Listening to Roarke.”
I almost give up trying to understand him but push for just one more question. “What did Roarke say?”
“Something about enjoying the small moments.”
He tugs at the blanket, toppling me to one side before flicking it half over my cold body. I can’t even be bothered lifting my arm to finish the job.
There’s a flash of light, then the mattress bounces, and a wet nose nudges into my neck sending a zap of adrenaline through my weary system. My heart’s racing with nervous energy as I open my eyes, but for some crazy reason a giggle escapes me.
Giggle? It feels surreal to be this close to a predator, but at the same time it feels right.
I rub at the wet mark on my neck and gently push the oversized wolf’s muzzle away.
His eyes are golden, a little differently-shaped but still the same as Pax’s. He’s huge. If I tried to hug him around the neck, I’d barely be able to get my hands to touch. Hesitantly, I reach my fingers for his fur. He sniffs my fingers, then he lays down and rests his head on his paws.
Oh, wow.
My heart can’t settle, can’t stop beating like crazy. My stomach feels like it’s twisted itself up to the point of no return – doesn’t stop me from wanting to pat him though. Sure doesn’t stop me from brushing the tips of my fingers over his fur. It’s ash and coffee-colored, with hints of molten metal beneath. Like his actual skin is made from melted gold.
But there’s no heat, so I push my fingers further into his fur. It feels like liquid silk. Not warm, not cold – oddly, it feels exactly the same temperature as me.
He lifts one paw to my middle and pushes me down, leaving it over my stomach to pin me in place. I have no energy to resist with as he snags a pillow in his teeth and drags it down to me, lifting his paw to let me get comfortable. I roll on my side and wriggle until my back relaxes against his fur, plump up the pillow, then close my eyes. Curling into his side, it feels like his body was designed perfectly to contour mine, and his warmth covers the spot that was left bare by the blanket. My aching body slowly relaxes.
He huffs and sends my hair flying over my face.
I wipe it away without opening my eyes. My mind stills. My soul quiets.
“I like you,” I whisper, drifting off to sleep.
At least until he starts scratching behind his ear.
I roll over, brace my foot against his shoulder, and shove.
He cracks an eyelid in time to see me topple off the side of the bed. I hadn’t realized how little room I had, and gravity’s as unkind to me as it is to Brahman balls.
Thane bounds to his feet, turning into a man in a flash of light, then perches on the edge of the bed – laughing at me.
Laughing! Not nice.
I groan. Pointing up at him. “You’re naked.”
Because that’s the most obvious thing to point out, and not the fact that he took up all the room and scratches like he has fleas.
Still chuckling, he climbs off the foot of the bed and saunters towards his clothes, making it three steps before my wall nudges into me, sliding me across the floor.
“Wait,” I groan, crawling towards him.
Yep – crawling.
He looks down at me with a worried crease in his brow.
I don’t bother getting up, instead collapsing back to the ground when I’m next to his clothes. Having a bubble really takes it out of a girl – but this potion is worse. It’s like my energy levels have sprung a leak. I stay belly down, hair splayed out over my eyes and a stray piece of grass on the floorboards tickling my nose.
But I have to get up.
Time to get up, Shade. Up in four, three, two, one.
As I climb to my feet, I’m not surprised that he’s already dressed in a cream cotton shirt and black linen pants. Plain and comfortable and no leather in sight, except for his belt and the sheath of his sword. Silvari fabric is always comfortable unless it’s made for a servant.
“Show me,” he orders, waving in a vague circle motion.
I pace out the bubble, then say, “Still three steps.”
He grabs the front of my shirt and dumps the contents of a potion bottle down my back – before I can fight or struggle or even talk to him about it. The liquid feels steaming hot and fizzes against my skin as it sinks in. Ripping my soul to pieces and taking a knife to every bit of calm inside of me. The last one hadn’t even worn off.
I gasp and fall against him.
“Pax,” the word whimpers over my lips.
“I know, Love,” he whispers into my hair. “But it’s working. We still have three steps.”
I struggle to straighten, trying to ignore the dizzy spin of the world. Trying to ignore the sudden need I have to hit him or bite him. To draw blood and see flesh.
Pax doesn’t let me leave his arms – probably a good thing, given the roof keeps trying to do battle with the floor – helping me to the end of the bed and letting me collapse onto it. When I look up, all of my guys are in the room. When did they get here?
I would ask, but I’m distracted by a pair of pants falling into my lap. Killian’s way of saying ‘get dressed.’
“We’ve looked everywhere,” Roarke says. “The length
