Page 22 of Power of Five
15
Leralynn
There is a wolf on my bed when I trudge up to my room in the evening, my whole body one big ache that no longer differentiates one pain from another. Coal made me eat after we trained, watching to make sure I swallowed every spoonful of beef stew without falling asleep in the bowl. And now that I can finally lie down, there is the damn wolf.
Not only is he on my bed, but he is splayed out to his fullest—including sticking out all four legs, his tail, and even a lolling tongue to maximize his claim of the real estate. The wolf lifts a sleepy muzzle from my pillow and opens one yellow eye to watch my arrival before nuzzling right back into the down covers.
“Really, Shade?” I pull off my jacket and toss it onto his sleeping form.
Shade growls in indignation, but I just toss my sweater onto him as well before dropping onto the bed to take off my boots. Stars, my body hurts, especially where bits of stray sand worked themselves into my leathers, leaving my skin raw and bloody underneath.
The mattress shifts behind me, and a wet wolfish nose prods my back. My skin tingles as Shade sniffs my hair then licks the back of my neck with a warm lupine tongue.
“Knowing that you are not really a wolf sheds a new light on this, you know,” I tell Shade over my shoulder.
He growls again, this time as if to say,I am very much a wolf.
“You are a wolf of convenience,” I tell him. “You know I’d kick you out of my bedchamber if you were in your fae form, so here you are, taking advantage of my goose-down mattress while looking too adorable to evict.”
There is a quick flash of light and suddenly the wolf is replaced by a black-haired male, his face still close to my neck. He wears what he must have had on when he shifted back to his wolf this evening, which isn’t much—a pair of gray woolen trousers that button in two rows high on his abdomen, supple leather boots, and no shirt. Not even the sleeveless open-front vest he wore earlier. “So which is it, cub,” he growls into my ear, his wolfish scent giving way to one of fresh earth, damp from rain. “Am I adorable? Or are you going to evict me from your chamber now?”
“How have you and Coal coexisted for the past three hundred years?” I demand. “The only way you could be more different is if one of you were a sclice.”
“Coal does have that pig reek, doesn’t he?” Shade muses.
I shove his shoulder, though it does little good.
The male chuckles and retreats to stretch out his full fae form, boots and all, on my bed. The bastard takes up no less space this way, with his hands crossed behind his head and his yellow eyes watching me intently.
I swallow.
Shade’s wolf is adorable—but Shade is beautiful. Golden skin, velvety and rippling with latent muscles even when relaxed, hard biceps framing his face. Strong, confident cheekbones. A piercing yellow gaze that makes my heart race despite my bone-aching fatigue.
Shade’s nose twitches and his eyes cloud with concern. “I smell blood.”
“Raw skin.” I frown at him. “Does it bother you? I mean, does it make your wolf want to maul me or something—like sensing weak prey?”
Shade considers me for several heartbeats. “You aren’t prey,” he says finally. “You could never be prey. But yes, smelling blood on you bothers us. We don’t enjoy seeing you hurt.”
Clearly, Shade didn’t watch Coal in action. “I’m fine,” I lie.
He rolls lazily onto one elbow. “Prove it.”
“Prove what?” I cross my arms, smelling a rat. “More importantly, how.”
A shamelessly wolfish grin. “By taking your clothes off.”
The demand rushes through me, settling somewhere between my legs. I cross my thighs and point at the door. “Scram, wolf fiend.”
Shade makes a swipe for me, pulling back when I smack his wrist. “How about a compromise? Just your shirt.”
My brows pull together in memory of what Tye tried—and failed—to accomplish earlier. “Are you all in on this ‘don’t take Lera’s word about her body’ scheme?”
A flush of color touches Shade’s cheeks and ears, their points peeking out from shaggy hair. He studies me from under his lashes for a moment longer. Then the bastard pounces.
One moment I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, and the next he’s pulled me all the way onto the mattress while he kneels beside me, his arms shamelessly around my hips—which does little to smother the heat kindling there. “I’ll make it worth your while,” Shade promises, his lips at the base of my neck, right over my quickening pulse.
“Please don’t rip my shirt like Tye did in the stream,” I say, closing my eyes in an attempt to calm my rebellious body. “I rather like this—”
