Page 98 of The Enemy to the Living
“Did you shift?” Grant asks me, eyes big again.
“To kill him?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, I did.”
Grant’s grin is almost blinding. “Oh my God,” he gushes, “I’ve never seen a wolfshiftbefore—or a shifted one either, actually, because I don’t think any of them did it that night when we… Anyway, can you show me?”
I blink at the absolute barrage of words, all spoken like Grant daren’t take another breath or risk losing track of them. He reminds me of Dante. Not that Dante is this… extroverted. But get him on a topic he knows about, and he’ll just keep going.
The two of them in a room together would be interesting.
“Not today, Grant,” Asher says, and his voice is firm but soothing. A smile softens my mouth. Grant is part of his pack, isn’t he? Does Asher know he’s done that? He must do.
Grant pouts. He doesn’t turn his head from Asher, instead looking at me again out of the corner of his eye. “Will you show me someday?”
“Yeah,” I say. I’m not against shifting right now. In fact, I kind ofwantto do it again, if only to prove to myself I can. My wolf prances about, fully ready to show off, but Asher gives me a faintly stern look. “Soon,” I add.
Grant’s pout is gone in an instant, replaced by a sunny grin.
“Asher,” Maurice calls. “Get over here and help with this, would you?”
I slowly rise to my feet. “I could…”
Asher shakes his head. “Stay. We’ve got this.”
Vlad is already with the others, but Grant stays next to me as Asher joins the other four at the other side of the kitchen. It’s already cramped in here, but even more so—none of the five of them are particularly small men.
“So…” Grant says, turning all his attention to me. “You and Asher?” He waggles his eyebrows and I huff a laugh.
“Yeah.”
“It’s serious?”
I open my mouth to give him some short answer—I don’t know what—and then realise he’s not looking me in the face. No. His eyes are on my chest, right in the middle, where my mating bond is.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “It is.”
Grant’s grin never falters. “Good. He needs it. You.”
I hum. Maurice is performing some spell; I can only tell because the blood pool is beginning to shrink and, thankfully, isn’t leaving a stain behind. “What about you?” I mutter.
“Me?” Grant seems genuinely surprised.
“You and—” I glance at Vlad. He looks the most forbidding of the three vampires over there, which is surprising because Maurice is usually immediately intimidating.
“Oh?” Grant flushes but shakes his head. “Vlad turned me.”
“Huh.” I know Lucien and Adam are more like father and son, but I’m sure Adam’s told me before that’s not always the case. “So you never…”
Grant is quiet for a moment too long. “No,” he says. “No, never.”
I swallow and lower my voice. “But you…”
Grant’s eyes are wide. He shakes his head, but I don’t think it means no. He just doesn’t want to talk about it. Not here.
“Because the Huntsman wants to see it,” Vlad says, voice raised a little, and I stick my head over the banister to see what’s going on. He and Jeremiah seem to be in a bit of an argument—over what to do with Sorrel’s body, I think—and Maurice is standing by, faintly smirking. Asher and Paxton exchange an exasperated look and I can’t help my smile.
