Page 51 of Untamed

"My Luna," Mactiir rasps, drawing my gaze back to him. His eyes show pain and deep, simmering rage. He rubs his thumb over my cheek and lips. "Let's clean the blood off, yeah?"

I nod vigorously. Sounds good to me. That was too gross for words. Just downrightnauseating; revolting, sickening, abhorrent.

Mactiir turns around with his bloody hand clenching mine, only to pull up short at the sight of the wolves, still on their knees.

"Get up!" he snarls.

Wolves scatter, heads tucked into curled shoulders. I give Mactiir the side-eye. Does he see how weird they are, too?

"Get some clothes for my luna," Mactiir growls to Purple, who is barely standing on her frail, wobbly knees. She nods, purple hair flying around her head as she spins on her heels. Huh, I guess old wolves can still move.

"C'mon, there's an apartment, we can shower, my Bliss," Mactiir brings me inside the house-that-is-too-large. Not to be confused with the house-that-is-large-that-smells-of-cows.

My she-wolf snips at me. She doesn't like my imagination.Spoilsport; grouch, downer, malcontent.

"That fucker," Mactiir seethes as he yanks off his blood-flecked shirt by grabbing it at his neck and yanking it over his head with one hand. He drops the shirt in the hallway. His hand then drops to the flap on his pants, and he flicks them open. They fall, and I watch their descent with interest. He only pauses to toe off his boots and leaves them with his pants.

Are all males this beautiful? Well, not Rooster. Or Weasel. Or... well, no one that I have seen yet. But, to be fair, I haven't seen many males.

"He's been sniffing around my pack too long,Qitsuk. Thatmotherfucker. Him and his fucking mother!" Mactiir roars. I feel the house flinch. Not the actual house, the wolves... Well... maybe the house, as Mactiir stomps deeper and deeper into it, in nothing but his bare skin, up a flight of stairs, then another flight, down a long corridor with impossibly-thick rugs, to a set of carved wooden doors that he shoves open without a care.

The room is cold, austere, too fancy, with nothing warm and inviting about it at all. I immediately hate it. I'm beginning to miss the cottage with flowers everywhere. Now, that's nice decorating.

"We will have war, my Bliss, to both our northeast and our southeast. Both sides pressing on us. Fucking hell. Maybe I should cut off the head of the snake? Take out Jax's whole family? Hell, he may be on board with that, himself."

He slams the door shut and locks it before he unlocks the chain around my waist long enough to take off my dress. "And,fuck, if Jessie is really still alive... that evil bitch. She stomped all over Jax's heart, left him and her son to face execution and condemnation, and for what? So she could slum it up in another pack away from her family?"

He tugs me through into the bathroom. My eyes may pop out of my head as I look at the white, gleaming surfaces all over. Amazing. Ugly, but amazing.

"Worse, with her mate's family? Tell me that's not some fucked-up shit, Bliss." With a flick of his wrist, he turns on the shower. Just like in the Cow House, the water pours out, warm and steady. Unlike the Cow House, this shower has three spouts.

"Qitsuk, this is fucking crazy." He gently guides me into the spray. It is a crazy shower, but I don't think that's what he's talking about.

I finally have to press my finger over his lips to stop the flow of words. Blah, blah, he's like a brook after the spring rains, and the waters come down from the mountains. Never-ending noise.

His lips curl up against my finger. "Am I talking too much,Qitsuk? One of us has to."

I want to laugh. At least he's funny sometimes. His lips against my finger feel soft, warm. I like the skin here. I like what these lips feel like when they touch me, so I touch them. I run my finger over the bottom lip, so full. His mouth falls open a tiny bit, his tongue darting out to taste my finger. I frown at him. I don't want him to touch me. This time, I want to touch him.

He seems to understand what I want, his body staying still for me. His mouth smiles again. I keep running my finger over his lips, then up to his cheekbones, his brow, back down to his jawline. He's very masculine, except that he has ears that are a touch too dainty, the whorls perfect curls. My ears are bigger, at least in comparison to our sizes.

I smile at his silly ears.

His breath catches.

"My Goddess, are you real?" he whispers.

I frown at him. Of course, the Goddess is real. Don't they teach wolves anything here in this pack?

His smile falls until he seems to realize something, then he's chuckling, pulling me close and letting me skim my fingers over him again.

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Inuit

For the first time in, oh, has it only been five days? I feel like I can see her naked body and not toss her down and punch both our V-cards. Adrenaline and fury are too high.

I pride myself on my control, but the threat Diego and Aunt Glory poise to myQitsukstill makes my blood boil. Even her soft touches can't drive away the bitter urge to hunt down Jax's sister and her spawn and paint my skin red with their blood.

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