I groaned and flopped back into bed.
“It will be okay, Andy.” Wick’s voice encouraged me to look back up. Waves of emotion emanated from his skin and percolated in my nose. My brows knit together as I analyzed his scent—a hint of fresh cut grass on a summer morning, poking through his normal rosemary, spoke of happiness; happy because I was safe, happy because it was over? But the pungent stench of canned ham and the skin of a snake soiled his otherwise joyful aroma. Why the despair? The turmoil?
Our gazes met and all coherent thoughts ran away. Wick’s irises flashed yellow, his wolf close and despite many shifts and the damage I sustained, mine howled in response. My mountain lion, recessed deep in my psyche for recovery, couldn’t act as a referee, couldn’t prevent my wolf from rushing up and simmering just beneath the surface.
Wick inched closer, dropping his head to mine. His fingers tangled in my hair as he pulled my face to his. Soft lips pressed in a kiss that could only be described as delicious.
More. I reached up and pulled Wick closer, wanting the weight of his body against mine, to hell with my injuries. He groaned and strong arms enveloped me as he deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking mine. Heat pooled in my body, making me ache in all the right places as he ran his large hands up my rib cage to cup my breasts. His hot mouth trailed kisses along my jaw and neck. He paused, hovering over the sensitive skin between my neck and shoulder, where the carotid artery pumped fast to keep up with my galloping heart. His warm peppermint breath brushed against my nerve endings while he waited, wordlessly asking a question.
I pulled back. “No mating bond?” I wanted him to keep going, to keep touching, kissing and holding me, but I also wanted to take things slow, get to know him under more normal circumstances before the ultimate supe commitment.
“Not yet,” he agreed, his lips twisting into a smile. He slowly looked my body over. “I honestly don’t think you could handle it right now.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No.” Wick shook his head. His rich whiskey and cream voice rolled over my skin and sank into my pores with his next words. “It’s a promise.”
Epilogue
A knock on the door interrupted our teenaged make-out session on the couch. The air hummed with silence before a subtle creaking sound of working hinges shattered it. Someone walked into Wick’s house without waiting for an invitation. Must be pack.
Pushing Wick and his glorious mouth away, I sat up on the couch to greet our visitor. A woozy feeling in the pit of my stomach bubbled up and I swallowed. It had only been a week since I woke up in Wick’s bed after the Ethan takedown, and if I moved too fast, my body gave me a good bitch slap to remind me I still needed to mend.
Clint strutted into the room.
My stomach rolled. I swallowed again and squeezed my eyelids shut against the waves of nausea. Maybe hallucination. It couldn’t be Clint…could it? He might be a human servant, but he died. Glazed eyes and all. I’d seen it.
My stomach settled and I pried my eyelids open enough to squint through them. There, on the other side of the living room, stood a smug-looking Clint, smiling at me as if my confusion amused the heck out of him.
Holy crap!
My response came out in one breath. “Whatthefuck?”
“Allan said you had something to say to me?” He crossed his arms.
Wick moved off the couch and stood up. I averted my gaze to avoid the questions in his. I couldn’t explain the war of emotions going through my head right now anyway. On a normal day, I despised Clint and everything he stood for, but then he saved my life, interrupting Ethan long enough for me to recuperate and for Allan to arrive. The action cost him his life. Or so I thought. I’d wanted to thank him. But now…
“What the hell are you?” I asked. So much for voicing my gratitude. I would’ve been Ethan’s last meal if not for Clint. Well, Ethan had fed on me before he died, so technically I was his last—“And where do you buy your spinach?”
Clint smirked and stepped around to face me on the couch. “I told you I wasn’t without resources.” He leered down at me. “Did you miss me?”
“Only when I thought you were dead,” I grumbled.
“Well fun time is over. You’ve been summoned.”
Wick reached down and offered his hand. I clasped it and let him hoist me off the couch. Whatever Lucien wanted, we’d face it together. And it would be all right.