Page 18 of Mated to the Werewolves
Chapter
Eight
TROY
I listen to Emma’s footsteps as she moves through the cabin. Carter and Sebastian are tall, muscular guys, but they’re also werewolves, so they’re usually dead silent. Now, the house has come alive, and hearing Emma clatter around the bathroom is like listening to a clumsy ghost who has taken up residence here.
My mouth tugs up into an involuntary smile. Hopefully, she’ll decide to stay.
This morning was spectacular. To have her soft, curvy body pressed up against me, to hear her little mewls of pleasure, to feel her muscles clench up as I brought her to a climax… Nothing compares to the pleasure of worshipping our mate.
I put thick strips of bacon on a parchment-paper-lined baking tray—Sebastian would cheerfully murder me if I forgot the parchment paper—and think of how lucky we were to have found her last night. If my mother hadn’t asked us for help, if we hadn’t stayed behind to have that last cup of coffee before hitting the road, we might have missed Emma completely.
A shiver dances down my spine at the realization that she could havediedout there. She could have frozen to death. Orbeen picked up by someone with much more sinister intentions than us.
Though to be fair, my own intentions would likely seem sinister to any sane person out there.
Make sure our mate never leaves. Fuck her hard as often as possible until she’s addicted to us. Fill her pink pussy with all the cum I can give her until she’s round and pregnant and glorious.
Yeah. My wolf side has been riding me hard, demanding I fulfill my instincts. It doesn’t help that we’re this close to a full moon, when all our good intentions go out the window. I know deep in my bones that she’s the one we’ve been waiting for, but I can’t allow myself to fuck up by showing her my true self.
I’m not like Sebastian, who might be a monster but is actually a fluffy, cuddly beast. Or even like Carter, whose wolf form is so fucking magnificent, he once had dozens of shifters lining up to become a part of his pack before he surprised everyone by choosing me. After that, no one wanted to be in our pack—apart from Sebastian, whose response to my true form was to hug me and bake me a dozen cupcakes.
They were delicious cupcakes, but still.
I’m no one’s idea of a happily ever after. So I have no clue about how to broach the subject of my wolf form with Emma. But I’ll have to. And soon—I can’t leave the revelation for tomorrow night, or she could get seriously hurt.
That is, if she’s still here on that day.
I peer down at the fried eggs in the pan and study the still-gooey egg white as if presenting the woman of my dreams with a plate of eggs will tip the scales for her.
But that’s exactly what the mating urge is telling me. I need to protect Emma, take care of her, feed her, and make sure she’s comfortable. It’s a biological urge all paranormals have to someextent, because there are so few of us compared to humans. We have to do everything in our power to continue our species.
I can’t wait to attempt to continue our species with Emma.
The thought of her scent, the memory of her taste, has my cock throbbing in my sweatpants. It’s been hard since last night, I think, with no relief, even overnight, so I should probably find a moment for a visit to the bathroom to take care of it before it grows painful.
I could ask Sebastian or Carter for help, but maybe it’s better that I do this on my own. They don’t have issues with showing Emma their wolves, and I doubt they’ll want to hook up with me alone now that she’s here.
It’s a depressing thought. I love them, but I know our dynamic has to change. We’ll focus more on Emma, and I shouldn’t be greedy for their attention. It makes sense that I’ll receive less of it, even if it’ll hurt.
I pack all those feelings away. I can’t let them show, not to Sebastian and especially not to Carter, because he’ll think it’s his duty as our alpha to fix them. To fixme.
The truth is, I can’t be fixed, so I might as well hide the broken shit from the rest of them and make sure they have what they need.
Starting with food, of course.
The eggs are done, and so is the bacon, just crispy but not burned. I let out a shrill whistle, which lets the guys know breakfast is ready. Sebastian appears at the door to the hallway, back in his human form, freshly showered. His curly hair is wet and floppy, and he moves with a loose-limbed grace that signals he’s been thoroughly fucked.
Emma follows him, her cheeks pink, wearing another one of Sebastian’s t-shirts. I bet he just loves seeing her in his clothes. I put in a mental note to rummage through my stuff for something of mine that she could put on.
We manage to get through breakfast without incident, though Emma seems to become uncomfortable when she realizes the snowstorm hasn’t abated one bit and is still dumping heaps of powdery snow all around.
“Did you have Christmas plans?” Carter asks, leaning back with his mug of black coffee in hand.
I tense, remembering her mentioning her boyfriend last night. I’m ninety-nine percent sure she made him up for our benefit, especially considering what we just did in our bed, but I can’t be completely certain.
“No,” she admits with a sigh. “I was going to make dinner for myself, but it wasn’t going to be anything special. There just isn’t any point when it’s only me.”
