Page 37 of Claimed By the Feral Wolves

Ezra rolls his eyes.

“Maybe,” Xander grunts, and I laugh.

When his eyes meet mine, I fight with the feeling in my chest. Being with all these guys, laughing and joking, reminds me of what things were like before my brother died. It reminds me ofwhat it’s like to feel carefree, and protected, and even if just for a moment, safe.

Man, I’m in trouble…

15

Faye

I’m lookingin the mirror, trying to get my eyeliner the way Addilyn showed me, when there’s a knock at the door. My heart immediately jumps into my throat, and I jump so hard that the eyeliner tracks across my face, swiping up onto my forehead.

“Gods,” I mutter, heart racing as I grab a wet cloth and move to the door. It could be anyone on the other side—it could be Kurt, here to hurt me when none of the other men are around. Except, the guard is still there. Standing silently. Probably wondering why the hell Ezra and Cayson ordered him to watch over me.

Or he’s not there. Kurt distracted him, or killed him. Now, Kurt’s just waiting on the other side of the door to hurt me.

I swallow hard. “Hello?” I ask, hating how shaky my voice sounds.

“Faye,” a voice says, and I’m surprised at the little jolt of self-consciousness I feel when I realize it’s Xander standing on the other side of the door.

I think of earlier, when he rode up with the other ferals. As startling as it had been, he wasn’t necessarily scary. His long black hair, his brilliant blue eyes, the muscles that cover his broad chest… Xander wasn’t scary, he was attractive.Iwas attracted to him. I wasn’t even sure, until Cayson and Ezra, that I could find men attractive. That that part of me existed.

My mind goes to later. To how he and the others worked together to send the bear in the other direction. It wasn’t just impressive that he could work so well with the only two men I trusted in the world. There was some part of me that just knew the four men would protect me. I didn’t know him or Maverick, and I certainly had some serious trust issues, so feeling this way was scary.

I close my eyes, wondering why he might be at my door. Xander is nothing like Cayson and Ezra—who are always polished. Even Cayson, despite his bad boy charm, has perfectly styled hair every time I see him. Xander is still dusted with the dirt from riding, and his long hair is wild in a way that only comes from exposure to the elements. Yet, some deep part of me wants to run my hand down his chest and let my fantasies open to a world where Xander really is my mate.

“It’s Xander,” he says, his voice soft, uncertain.

Something in my stomach tightens, and I clear my throat as I scrub at my face, trying to clear the eyeliner away. “Oh,” I say, checking my reflection in the mirror to see that I’ve fixed my eyeliner. “It’s you.”

I open the door slowly, then stand back, staring. I’m surprised that he’s just as good looking as I remember.

The guard is right behind him, frowning. “Miss Faye?”

I swallow hard. “He’s alright. Thank you.”

The guard gives a sharp nod, making the sharp lines on his face stand out even more, then backs up and returns to his place on the wall.

My gaze returns to Xander, unsure of what to expect. Wondering why he’s visiting me at my room. When he leans against the doorway, my mouth goes dry. He’s standing there, an expectant, excited look on his face, a full basket of berries in his hands. He holds it out to me, and I look between the berries and his face, which is so full of hope I can’t entertain the idea of rejecting this gift, even if I have no idea what to do with a basket full of wild berries.

“Thank you,” I say.

“For the others,” he mumbles, clearing his throat, then lifting his chin to meet my eye. “For the ruined basket. To replace it.”

And I get the feeling that this man doesn’t say much. That his words are as precious as the gift he brought. Something straight from his soul.

I bring my free hand to my heart to try and soothe the feeling there. The warmth that’s spreading in my chest. This man is… sweet. The scare from the bear was so bad that I forgot all about the basket I’d squished beneath me, but he hadn’t. I lift my hands, noting how they’re still stained purple, and when I glance at Xander’s hands, I realize they’re bloody and dirty.

“Oh,” I say, reaching out and taking his forearm. Touching him is like holding my hand to a flame—I feel the energy and heat immediately, and it makes me want to yank my hand back, but I don’t. “Come in, let me clean you up.”

He seems confused. “It’s okay. My family lives on a farm on the outskirts of a city, with other ferals. I’m used to hard work. And pain.”

I shake my head. “Still. You’re hurt.”

He nods, his expression uncertain.

Xander looks like an alien on a new planet when he wanders into my room, glancing around nervously like he’s not sure if he should be in here with me. Something in the back of my mind reminds me that this is dangerous—he’s a feral staking a claimon me, and I still haven’t thought of a way to explain what’s going on between Ezra, Cayson, and me. Heck, I haven’t even told him about Kurt.

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