Page 10 of Scarlett's Wicked Wolf
“Yes.”
I pull the blanket tighter and rise to my feet. My knees wobble, and he instinctively steps forward to steady me, his hands grasping my arms. The second he touches me, my skinignites, drawing an involuntary whimper of need from my throat. Tiny sparks skitter through my veins like lightning searching for ground. My nipples harden under the blanket, and I squeeze my thighs against the sudden, urgent throb.
Reid releases me instantly, jerking away like he’s been burned. “Sorry.”
But it’s too late. His pupils blow wide, then narrow as he wrestles with the same need, the same hunger.
Is this the bond? This fevered magic threading us together? But if it’s only the bond, why did I ache for him in my dreams before I knew his name? Why is my body so attuned to him even as my mind shouts caution?
“I-It’s fine,” I lie. Because it isn’t. It’s terrifying. Glorious.
I flee for the door on shaky legs, clutching the blanket like armor. I don’t look over my shoulder because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll ask him to touch me again to discover which part of this is fate… and which part isme.
The bathroom is small, clean, and mercifully cool. The stone floor of the shower cubicle is cold under my feet as waterpinwheels from the showerhead, needling my skin. I twist the temperature knob to make the water colder. It doesn’t help.
The heat inside me. It’shim. It’sme. It’s this thing between us that neither of us asked for but now can’t escape.
I brace my forehead against the tile, my breath fogging the glass screen as wave after wave of lust rolls through my core. I don’t know this man, yet I want him in a way I’ve never wanted anything in my life. His hands, his mouth, his scent. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress as he thrusts inside me while the forest hums outside.
Gods, I’m losing it.
I shut off the tap when my fingers go numb, but the cold hasn’t touched the blaze inside me. The fever burns bright like the noon sun under my skin.
I quickly dry off and secure the towel around me, stumbling as I tug open the bathroom door.
“Scarlett?” Reid stands from the chair by the fire, his voice laced with concern.
“I’m fine,” I lie, because pride is ridiculous. The floor tilts. The room swims.
Strong hands catch me before the floor does. He’s all warmth and steadiness and clean soap as he guides me out. Every place he touches lights a fuse, sending want curling hot and helpless in my belly, even though his grip stays practical and respectful.
He eases me onto the bed and tucks the blanket tight around my hips. A moment later, a cool, wrung-out cloth kisses my forehead, then my throat, and I nearly moan at the relief.
“Easy,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe with me. In on four, out on six.”
I do as he says. The cloth drifts to my temples, and the fire inside me settles from wildfire to controlled burn—still fierce, but survivable.
It’s the bond, this hunger. Maybe. Yet when my pulse follows his touch like a tide, I wonder if it’s only magic… or something more dangerous. Something mine.
Exhaustion drags me under, but peace doesn’t come. Instead, I dream of the forest.
The trees whisper. The ground cracks beneath my bare feet. Twigs snap and leaves crunch.
I turn, heart racing. The wolf stands behind me. But it’s not Reid.
It’s the gray wolf that attacked me. Red eyes, matted fur, mane tangled with thorns and… bones? He reeks of mold, old magic, anddeath.
“Ah…” he says, the words forming unnaturally around his snout and settling over me like an eerie breeze through a crypt. “My little Red Witch.”
My stomach turns to ice.
“You’re mine.”
I bolt upright in bed, soaked in sweat, my scream dying in my throat, the blankets tangled around my legs.
My throat is like sandpaper as I call for the man I instinctively know will keep me safe. “Reid!”
Chapter 4
