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A Cursed Embrace(3)

By:Cecy Robson


My fingertips swept absentmindedly over my lips. He’d kissed me long and hard that morning. And I willingly returned his affections. My heart pounded, my skin sizzled, my body begged for his . . . and then he jerked out of bed and left. Just like that. Without explanation. Without a good-bye. Just a promise to call. The wandering hands I expected never explored, the tongue I wanted to skim along my flesh never tasted past my lips, and the werewolf I expected to stay in bed with me didn’t bother. Despite the record-breaking heat between us, we hadn’t made love. Maybe it was better. I’d only had sex three times in my life, when I was seventeen. And while the experience could be described as sweet, the words “awkward” and “clumsy” also came to mind. I still remained unsure whether the first time even “counted.”

Shayna leaned on the cream-colored couch next to Emme, a safe distance away from our deceased guest. “Aric’s probably just been busy, dude,” she offered.

“Koda calls you every day, throughout the day.” And spends every night with you, I didn’t add.

Shayna’s bright smile and blue eyes lacked their famous sparkle. “Koda’s neither a pureblood nor a Leader like Aric. He doesn’t have the responsibilities Aric has.”

“Nor does he have to answer to his Elders for dating outside his race.” I knelt over the body, my anxiety over the wolves’ arrival riling my beast.

Taran tossed her midnight waves so they fell behind her shoulders. Since first realizing Shayna called Koda, she’d rushed to change out of the camisole she’d slept in and now donned a chic pale olive dress and silver gladiator sandals that added four inches to her five-foot-three frame. She’d dressed for Gemini, Aric’s Beta. Taran’s blue eyes peered beneath the shroud of thick lashes she’d inherited from our Latina mother. “It could be worse. He could pat your damn head.”

Taran’s allure crushed men like potato chips. You know those women men ignored their dates to ogle? Taran was one of those. She could have had any male she wanted. Anyone, but Gemini, it seemed.

Emme placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness. Is Gemini still petting you?”

Taran twirled her platinum and diamond bracelet—a gift from Misha. “Yup. Just last night.”

“Do you think perhaps it’s a wolf thing?” Emme offered.

Taran dropped her hands to her sides. “Does Liam pet you—on the couch, in bed, in the tub—ever?”

Emme blushed. “Um, well, no—”

Taran turned to Shayna. “How about Koda? Any head rubbing going on?”

“No, dude. But—”

“Then don’t tell me it’s a damn wolf thing. I’d give anything for that fine hunk of Japanese ass to kiss me, touch me—anything but the damn head pat!”

Emme frowned, making her appear bunny rabbit fierce. “Don’t swear in front of the dead fellow. It’s disrespectful.”

Taran’s harsh brows softened as she took in the dead were once more. “I really don’t think he gives a shit, Emme.”

In the distance, my sensitive hearing fixed on three speeding SUVs. I rose and nudged Taran. “The wolves are here.” Seconds later the vehicles screeched into our small development, Koda’s silver Yukon in the lead, followed closely by a black Escalade. Aric’s Escalade. A red four-by-four pickup pulled against the curb last, and three males I didn’t recognize stepped out. Koda and Liam raced in, leaping one by one over the body and hurrying to Shayna and Emme. Aric and Gemini jogged out of the Escalade. Gemini reached the door first. His dark almond eyes widened upon seeing Taran, but quickly regained their composure. He held out his hand. “Will you stand outside with me, in case any witnesses arrive?”

A spark of blue and white flame ignited on Taran’s fingertips. She nodded. Gem pulled her into his arms and swept her down the steps. A gallant Prince Charming move if only Prince Charming hadn’t patted a pissed-off Snow White’s head.

Aric’s pace slowed the moment he caught sight of me, his light brown eyes bright against his navy shirt and five o’clock shadow. Unlike the others, Aric didn’t fuss over me and stopped a few steps in front of the were’s feet. “You okay?”

Aric’s deep tenor voice tugged at my heart, yet a nod remained my only response. When I said nothing more, he fell to one knee and examined the body. The were who’d driven the pickup—a tall male with military-cut black hair and ebony eyes—hustled to his side.

Commando Guy shook his head after taking a sniff. “Not one of mine.”

“Lone?” Aric asked.