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Amanda's Wolves(57)

By:Becca Jameson


“And your mind is completely intact without doing so?” he teased.

“Marginally. Did you order pizza? I’m also starving.”

“Yes,” Logan said. “It should be here any minute.”

She glanced back and forth between the men. “What’d I miss?”

Sawyer leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “There are a few other things you need to know.”

“Great.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think you should have put all the cards on the table before turning me into your personal sex slave?” She fought a smile, but the energy wafting from her was on edge.

“You are not our sex slave, Amanda,” Logan commented. “If anything, we’re yours.”

She glanced his way, her leg bobbing up and down under the table, making her entire body jiggle and her breasts bounce with every move. “Semantics.”

Sawyer fought the desire to round the table, grab her by the waist, and lay her out to feast on. She wore nothing but one of Logan’s T-shirts, and it would take less than a half a second to whip it off her. In fact, his cock hardened at the visual.

“Hello?” Amanda began. “Earth to Sawyer. What do you need to tell me?”

He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear his mind. “My sisters, my mother, and my grandmother are shaman.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they have some powers, sort of like a sixth sense. They often feel things or know things before they happen.”

“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms, her breasts rising above them, her nipples poking at the thin cotton.

He nodded, trying to ignore the way she affected him with her stance. He didn’t like her closing herself off that way, but on the other hand, she had no idea how it showcased her sexy tits. Glancing away, he continued. “And also, there are these spirit guides.”

“Spirit guides,” she mimicked, a snarky tone to her voice.

Luckily Logan dropped the letter he held and took over. “I’ve actually had more experience than Sawyer. He just moved to the area. But I’ve been here my whole life. The Native American spirit guides are real.”

“Right. So do these spirits hang around on the reservation?” Her face was extremely skeptical if not downright disbelieving.

“No.” Logan shook his head. “They hang around the mountains mostly, but they come down into the inhabited areas on both ends of the lake occasionally.”

“And when would that be?” She was indulging them. But she needed to hear what they had to say, and the best thing was to ignore her doubt and spit it all out.

“When another set of us mates,” Logan deadpanned.

She sucked in a breath, hesitating. “Are you serious?” She dropped her arms and set her hands on the edge of the table.

“Yes. I wish I wasn’t. I saw one of them Thursday before I met Sawyer, and we both saw one, or perhaps the same one, last night.”

“Last night? At Laurie’s house?”

“No. We went for a run before you went to bed. In fact, we specifically went to the same location where I’d seen the first spirit the day before.”

“A run? In the dark? Are you crazy? Who does that?” Her knuckles turned white where she still gripped the table.

“Wolves,” Sawyer added. “We shifted, hon. We can run farther faster that way, and we don’t need light. We see fine in the dark. It wasn’t that far. About a mile from the house.”

She stared at him.

Logan continued. “We need you to know, because there’s a good chance you’ll have similar visions now that we’ve mated. It has happened to all my siblings.”

“Why?” Her body was so stiff, it killed Sawyer to remain seated while she processed this information.

“We don’t know, but every mating has accompanied some sort of natural disaster, or even a man-made disaster. It seems the spirits come forward as a warning. They don’t mean anyone any harm. They just want to be heard.”

“Uh-huh.” She stared at Logan for nearly half a minute before speaking again. “And they told you this?”

“No.” Logan shook his head again. “Unfortunately they don’t communicate at all. They just hover, but the vibe they give off is ominous. They manifest as a black smoky substance that coalesces into a sort of form, like a bear I would say. A large black bear. That’s just a feeling. It’s really a floating, smoky, agitated, black aura.”

Amanda released the edge of the table with one hand and rubbed her eyes. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but how many more strange secrets do you have? I’d rather hear them all now. Constantly blindsiding me with new information is making my head spin.”