Page 87 of Star Claimed Omega
He was sending pain pings through the embedded wrist cuff, reminding her who she worked for.
‘Fokkyou,’ she muttered under her breath, teeth gritted as the last wave ebbed, leaving her clammy and shaking.
Her remorse turned to fury.
Then terror struck as she realized she was walking a thin, tightrope.
Caught between her enforcers who owned her, and the man she so wanted to explore a future with.
At the thought of Santi, her soul convulsed, and a surge of craving for him hit hard.
It wasn’t just her body and her desire for him calling out now.
It was the desperate need for safety, for his strength and sanity when her own was fraying at the edges.
She sat up and glanced at the chrono. It read just past 0100 hours.
Still, the pull to him overrode all her hesitation.
She slid out of bed in bare feet and padded to the hallway, with Santi’s guest robe wrapped around her.
The light from the terrace cast a long beam across the cabin corridor as she reached his door.
It was ajar, as if waiting for her.
Her fingers scarcely pushed, and the door gave way with a sigh.
Santi lay on his side, the sheet tangled over his hips.
Revealing the vast plane of his back, the sloping muscle of his shoulders.
Also, the ink that marked him, wolf fangs across the shoulder blades, ethereal claw sigils trailing down his ribs.
His dark hair fell over his temple, mussed, and below, the curve of his jaw was shadowed with stubble. Even in sleep, his presence throbbed through the room.
He moved onto his back in a roll of ligament and sinew, and as he did, a ripple of violet energy burst from his chest like lightning.
Soleil gasped, stepping back.
The glowing force coalesced above him, folding and shifting until a spectral dire wolf materialized in the air, fangs bared, its fur crackling with aetheric fire.
Its eyes glowed as it lowered its head and fixed her with an ancient, primal gaze.
His guardian lycan spirit.
Its eyes scanned her, and it howled in a silent snarl, as if finding her wanting.
Soleil’s heart leapt.
She took a step back, ready to bolt, when the entity snapped out of existence, and Santi knifed up in bed.
His eyes locked onto her, piercing and glowing in the dark.
‘Cariño?’
His timbre was gravelly, sultry, and rough with sleep.
She froze.
