Page 33 of The Wolf's Kidnapped Mate

Andwhat? Kiss him?

I squeezed my eyelids harder.

When he touched my shoulder, some of my muscles relaxed. “Kylie, it worked. We got him to give away his position, but…”

Oh, I hated that word so much.

“…the Blonde Dalmatians got hurt.”

My eyes snapped open. “Karla and Cora?”

“Yeah, they’ve been here for a bit.”

“I see.”

He slid his arm around my shoulder. I let him pull me into him, not fighting the way my body screamed with simultaneous relief and irritation. I was tired of fighting my emotions. I was tired of fighting everything.

“I think Bernadetti has a team he already planted around here helping him out. I don’t know for sure. It’s just a feeling.”

I snorted, quoting my brother without hesitation. “Feelings aren’t facts.”

“Shut up, Mullen.”

“Make me.”

His grip on me tightened—and that was when I noticed the closeness of his lips to my earlobe. Torrid breaths coasted my ear, soft static marking the sound of his inhale and exhale. His fingers trailed north over the sleeve of my top, tickled my neck, and then pushed my hair behind my ear. A few silky strands rebelled and fell back into my face.

His forefinger traced a line from my chin to my jaw. The way his fingers dropped back to my throat sent a sweltering breeze right to my core. My thighs ached again. Goosebumps flooded my breasts and stomach. That taunting and defiant statement was being taken very seriously right now. I could feel it.

Right as the flames crackled in the fireplace, his fingers cradled my chin with his thumb tilting my face toward him. My hair fell over my face. His hair blocked his features. Ragged breaths caressed my mouth as he drifted closer…and then closer…

He released my chin and drifted away.

Oh, that was so cold. That was so harmful. I turned back to the fire with such a defeated feeling, utterly lost in my head.Had I done something wrong just now? Was I too trusting of Fred?

A heavy fur draped over my shoulders, nearly causing me to spill my tea. Fred dropped to the ground beside me with his own, took the tea from my hands to set aside, and then yanked my upper body into his lap.

“Sleep,” he commanded as he stroked my hair out of my face.

Tears returned with a fierceness—and he wiped them away.

He wiped every single one of them away.

Chapter 11 - Fred

Kylie prodded my arm when I bent forward to push the last of the sand over last night’s fire in the fireplace. She held my elbow loosely while I grabbed the iron poker, pushed around what remained of the logs, scattered the embers.

For someone who was mad at me, she sure couldn’t stop touching me. I growled low in my throat, avoiding her gorgeously tousled hair and sleepy expression illuminated by this morning’s light. “What?”

“You haven’t slept.”

“I don’t need to sleep.”

She tugged on my elbow. “Fred, you need at least one ninety-minute cycle.”

“I need coffee.”

“If you don’t rest, I’m calling Liam.”

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