I place my backpack on the foot of the bed, beside a white robe and slippers, and sit next to it. The sheer curtains flutter softly in the light breeze coming in through the balcony. I can see the forest from here, and the tips of more temples peeking out amongst the snow-capped trees.
It’s beautiful.
Tranquil.
Confusing.
Why did Alaric really bring me here?
I fall back onto the bed and stare at the canopy. Images of his hands roaming my body play through my mind. Warm, big, possessive hands, touching, caressing, making me all hot and bothered. My pulse spikes, and I frown at my train of thought. Why the hell am I thinking about Alaric? I remember the last time he touched me and how he’d tended so gently to my wound. How warm his hands had felt against my skin…
I absently reach for where he healed me on the chest. There’s not a trace of the injury behind, all thanks to Alaric, the wolf who knows my secret but I don’t know his.
A knock on the door startles me.
“It’s Alaric.”
Speak of the devil.
I push off the bed, cross the room, and open the door.
“Your first appointment is in fifteen minutes.” He skims my body slowly and arches a brow. “You need to be wearing your robe for this. Slippers are optional.”
“I see you’re dressed for the occasion,” I counter, walking back over to the bed.
Alaric shuts the door behind him and follows me, his own robe tied tightly around his waist. Even underneath a thick robe, his muscles bulge against the material. I peel my gaze from his body down to the slippers. Picking them up, along with the robe, I hurry into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later, I come back, dressed properly, only to find Alaric sprawled over my bed. He perks up upon seeing me.
“You scrub up real good, love.”
That makes me laugh. “And you. Shall we get going?”
It takes everything not to look at his muscular thigh peeking out from his robe. My cheeks heat a little as I realise he’s naked underneath it. Of course he would be. He’s so comfortable in everything I can hardly be surprised to find him comfortable in his body.
“Aye, let’s. I’ve got a feeling you’ll like this.”
He opens the door before I reach it, despite that he was across the room.
“Ever the gentleman,” I say, sliding past him and into the hallway.
The door closes softly, and Alaric leads me around the corner. Several doors line the walls at either side. He stops outside the one at the bottom left, then nods to the one across the hall.
“I’ll be in there. See you in thirty.”
“Alaric, wait—”
But he’s sliding into his room. Given the attire and his comment about TLC, I can only assume it’s some kind of massage I’m walking into. I’m in desperate need of one, and a facial, that’s for damn sure. Running for my life is really beginning to take its toll on me.
Slowly, I turn the door handle and enter the dimly lit room. Forest music plays softly in the background. Candles flicker around a massage bed covered in a white blanket, and right by the front of it there’s a sign that reads in Japanese, then English: Please remove all clothing and lie under the blanket. Ring the bell once you are ready for your masseuse.
I do as instructed and remove my robe and slippers. Once I’ve draped the robe over a wooden chair, I ring the bell and quickly lie facedown on the bed underneath the soft blanket. I wait for the masseuse, it occurs to me that for the past hour or so, I haven’t thought about the demon market or my parents or anything that’s weighed me down lately. It’s as if from the moment Alaric dragged me from my apartment, I could see the sun again, feel its warmth on my skin.
I can’t keep hiding from reality. My parents are dead, my species are being hunted and trafficked illegally, and the Stormfire alpha is after my head. These are three facts I need to, now more than ever, come to terms with.
It’s hard, it’s painful, and I want to avoid it.
But I can’t.
Avoiding means giving up, and I refuse to let Rizer win.
I refuse to be weak.
My mum died protecting me… I can’t let her death be in vain.
The soft click of the door opening drags me from my stupor. I close my eyes and wait patiently, just listening to the exotic birdcalls and leaves rustling in a light breeze. It’s been years since I’ve had a massage and I’m going to savour every moment of it.
Warm, large hands gently squeeze my arm, alerting me of their presence. After several moments of them moving around the room, they tug the blanket down to the space just below my tailbone. I tense when their hands find purchase on my back for the first time, but soon I’m whisked off into a beautiful reverie where time no longer seems to exist.
A moan escapes me, and I lose track of everything, my past, my surroundings, as I fall a slave to the sensation.
“Mmm…”
The hands move down my back again, but this time they slide onto the towel, a little too close for comfort. On instinct, I open my eyes and crane my neck. Who should be there but Alaric? And with not an ounce of shame on his face either.
“You freaking per—!”
“Shh, Autumn, shh. I’ve got magical hands.”
“Is that what you say to all the girls?”—he massages a particular spot in my back again—“Oh, goddess, that feels good.”
“Told you.” I can hear the smirk in his tone. “Just close your eyes and let me do my work. Let me take your mind off things.”
For a moment, I consider leaving the room, but once again he’s right: this wolf has an incredible way with his hands. It’s even better than I imagined in my room.
Only
