Page 43 of Wolf's Bane
His fingers curled around her upper arms, the claws not quite receded and digging into the light fabric of her sleeves. She felt altogether too fragile in his grip, nothing more than breakable bones in soft packaging, and he had already seen once how easily her bones broke. He wanted to shake her for being so reckless or to lock her away where her rashness and foolhardy nature could never endanger herself again.
She was his. His to protect and his to punish.Hisand she stank of another male. He needed…so many things. They wrestled for priority in his mind. Instinct said to cover her in his scent, to mark her so the other male would respect his claim. Reason said that he should unhand the hunter’s daughter, lest he become prey. Ego took pride in that she thought fast during the attack, despite her fear pounding away in her heart.
He could hear it, feel her pulse thrum under his touch.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His home. His mate.
His.
He was vaguely aware of others speaking, of movement in the room. It faded into background noise as Solenne stared up at him, her quicksilver eyes wide, as lost in the moment as him. He was so furious with her it was difficult to think with the beast howling inside, contained, but only because the beast allowed it.
“Alek, you’re bleeding—”
He kissed her, hard, with too much teeth. The sane part of his mind hoped that they were only teeth and not dagger-like fangs. She melted against him, opening herself to him, deepening the kiss.
She tasted of copper, herbs, and fear. Delicious fear, sweet and forbidden, purloined right in front of her family. No one could stop him. No one dared. This pleased the beast, who wrapped an arm around her, shielding her, hiding her.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling with force. He gave a playful nip at her lower lip.
They stood there, lips almost touching. The violet left his vision as the beast receded and normal sight returned. His hold relaxed, knowing he could release her and step back. Such an action would allow them to blame their impropriety on mutual relief or the heat of the moment.
She stretched up on the tips of her toes, brushing her lips to his, the barest of contact that meant everything.
Solenne pulled away, her face flush. A splatter of violet blood decorated her cheek; whether it was from the invading beast or himself, he could not say.
“My warrior, covered in the blood of her enemies,” he said, using his thumb to rub it in.
Someone behind them loudly cleared their throat.
Chapter 12
Solenne
Boxon Hill
Marechal House - The Parlor
“You’ve got an arrow…justthere, in your back,” Luis said.
Alek reached over his shoulder and yanked out the arrow with a grunt. Violet blood gleamed on the silver tip. Using the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped it down and handed the arrow to Luis.
Miles wobbled on his feet, then sat heavily in a chair. The armor slid from his grasp into a puddle on the floor.
Godwin cleared his throat, crossbow slung over his shoulder. “Sorry about that. My aim leaves something to be desired.”
“Where is Mr. Parkell?” Solenne asked, stepping back from Alek. “Colonel Chambers is also here. I ran into him in the hall.”
Alek grumbled at the mention of the Colonel’s name.
“What the devil were they doing here, tonight of all nights? And explain why the blacksmith is about to pass out in my parlor.” Godwin used the stock end of the crossbow to knock out the broken glass from the window. The sound of broken glass hitting the stone outside was the sound of an expense they could not rightly afford.
“Mr. Bartram came to deliver a piece of equipment but was attacked in the woods. Mr. Parkell discovered him and brought him here.”
“Not to Chambers?”
“No time,” Miles wheezed.
