Page 16 of Blood and Magic
He sauntered to the perimeter and sulked off into the night, his once playful aura now reduced to a dark, gloomy cloud at merely the mention of his former flame. Whatever happened there wasn’t my business, but I did believe him when he said he had a knack for calling when someone might be about to transition. He’d been right about Sol; even Orion could admit that.
Is he right about Maeve?
I looked at her again, now slow dancing with some human jackass closer to her age. She laughed at whatever he said, and I swallowed down my completely inappropriate jealousy. I barely knew her. I had no reason to get to know her. And even if my history with her sister wasn’t complicated, she was off-limits for a thousand different reasons.
“If Lycan’s right, we need to have someone keep watch,” Moose said.
“I’ll be here with four other pack members,” I said. “If she goes through it—” I’d been about to say someone would tell us, someone would help her. But that didn’t sit right in my gut for reasons I didn’t want to consider.
“You?” Moose raised his eyebrows and sipped his beer.
“Yeah, me,” I growled. “But don’t worry. I won’t touch her. I’ll send Columba or Aquila in there instead.”
I tried to imagine anyone else in the pack giving her their magic, and I fisted my beer bottle so tight, I thought I might crack it.
“That isn’t what I’m worried about,” Moose said.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled and stood, deciding that enough was enough for one night. When I passed the dance floor, headed toward the ranch-hands’ building on the other side of the farm, I ignored the way Maeve’s eyes tracked me, telling myself it had nothing to do with me.
We were nothing. That immense pull I felt toward her was nothing.
All of this. All of life. All of it.
Nothing.
CHAPTER 5
Maeve
I drank well into the night and stumbled up to my bedroom much later than I had intended. I tried to get my bridesmaid dress off, but the zipper proved too complicated for my intoxicated state, so I collapsed face-first onto my mattress and passed out.
My skin would hate me in the morning, but who had time for a cleansing and moisturizing routine after a long night of consuming as much wine as possible and ignoring my childhood crush turned frenemy?
I dreamt that I ran through the forest behind my house. The thrill of the cool summer air whipped through my hair, coating my skin in dew and light from the full moon overhead. My bare feet hit the undergrowth, my toes digging into the soil before propelling me forward…faster…harder. A howl echoed behind me, sending a chill down my spine. I should be terrified. That sound meant wolves.
But I wasn’t. I threw my head back and let out a roar of my own, something deep and primal. A snapped branch had me sprinting, and I laughed as I took off toward Bastard territory.
“You think you can run from me, baby?” The growl came from right behind me, as if my chaser had leaned against my ear or whispered it inside my head.
“Only if you keep chasing me.” I extended my stride, carrying myself as far as I could.
Just as I was about to break through the tree line and crash into the river, a thick, heavy body slammed into me from the right, taking me down to the ground. I squealed, half in delight, half in terror.
“Got you,” the voice snarled, flipping me over onto my stomach. One hand held the back of my head down, burying my cheek in the dirt. The other grabbed my wrist, pinning it above my body. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should know better than to run from the big, bad wolf.”
My heart pounded against my ribs, the ache in my legs matched only by the shudder between my thighs. The exhilaration of being hunted had turned me on, and when I arched my back into my attacker, rubbing my ass along the thick length trapped between us, he hissed in a breath and pressed it more firmly against me.
“You’re a naughty girl, Maeve Vanderbilt,” he said, trailing his nose down my neck to the space next to my shoulder blade. “What should I do with you?”
“Oh, no,” I teased. “I guess you’ll have to punish me.”
He snickered. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I brushed my ass against him again, rolling my hips, seeking out the part of him that I’d longed to have since I knew what desire was.
“Please,” I said. “I’ve been so bad, and I need a strong, steady hand to put me in my place.”
A loud, blaring noise infiltrated the dream, drowning out the sound of his hoarse reply. I jolted to life in my bedroom. When I snapped my eyes open, sunlight beamed through my windows, blinding me, spearing through my forehead like a jousting lance.
