Sparrow’s heart sank into her stomach.
Problem? Is that how he saw her? She thought that maybe after last night things had changed between them.
Fool, she chided herself. She meant nothing to him. She’d thrown herself at him. What hot-blooded male wouldn’t take what was so generously offered?
Her cheeks burned with shame and rage. She stormed toward the cave, crushing the dress in her fingers. Once inside and out of sight, she flung off the blanket and pulled on the pink dress Wolfrik had brought. She didn’t feel like rejoining the men, but she was so damn sick of spending time in a cave. She was fed up with the campsite, too. There might not be bars, but she was stuck in a tight prison, and it was encroaching on her soul.
She’d had more freedom at the compound. Hawk didn’t allow her to go beyond the city or outside the compound without escorts, but she could always find men to accompany her when she wanted to travel beyond the protection of their walls. Within the compound she was free to move about and walk more than twenty feet without a guard watching her.
But she still didn’t miss it.
Being held captive in a cave wasn’t what she had in mind either.
She reached for her hair to fluff it out then stopped herself. Who was she trying to impress? Sparrow smoothed out the skirt of the dress and slowly left the cave’s shadow.
Wolfrik stood alone in the small clearing, legs planted wide, and his thumbs hooked around the belt loops. He looked Sparrow over from head to foot and shrugged. “It’s too big, but it will do.”
His words barely registered as she cast a forlorn look into the woods.
“Aden decided to leave after all,” Sparrow said numbly.
Wolfrik huffed. “Nah, stubborn as ever. I told him to at least go for a run.”
Her heart fluttered, still alive inside the cavity of her chest.
Wolfrik shook his head and muttered, “Willful werewolf.”
“Werewolf? Is that what he is?” Sparrow’s mouth fell open.
Wolfrik lifted his nose and raised his brows as though it should have been obvious.
Sparrow leaned forward, glad for a chance to speak to Wolfrik about Aden while he was away. “What’s the difference between a wolf shifter and a werewolf?” She wanted to know.
Lucky for her, Wolfrik was chattier than Aden, even though the pureblood sneered more than he smiled.
“We’re both shifters from the canine family,” Wolfrik said. “As you’ve seen, werewolves are bigger than wolves—the way a lion is larger than a leopard.” He wrinkled his nose. “He’s stronger than most wolves, though I could take him on.”
Sparrow resisted rolling her eyes. She wanted Wolfrik to continue.
“They can stand upright and walk on two legs. It’s not as comfortable as four legs, but they can do it,” he continued.
“Are there other werewolves in your pack?”
“No,” Wolfrik answered. “Aden’s the only werewolf I’ve ever seen. As far as I know, they’re pretty rare—that or they’re smart and keep well away from both humans and other shifters.” He shrugged.
Mythical, Sparrow thought in wonder. She pushed her hair over her shoulder. “How did he come to be with your pack if he wasn’t born into it?”
Wolfrik pressed his lips together and cast a shrewd look over her. “What’s with the information gathering?”
“I’m curious.”
“You already know too much.”
“Guess you’ll have to accept me into your pack.” She put her hands on her hips.
Wolfrik snorted. “That will be the day.”
A rustle in the bushes caught their attention. Wolfrik didn’t tense, which Sparrow took as a sign to relax. Holding a dead rabbit locked between his jaws, Aden walked in on four legs and set his kill beside the firepit. After depositing the poor creature, he retreated behind a boulder and returned in human form, wearing the gray sweatpants.
“I told you to go for a run, not hunt down dinner.” Wolfrik chuckled.
He had a fond way of smiling at Aden. Sparrow wondered if they’d been close friends before his capture.
Aden shrugged. “I did both.”
Wolfrik grabbed the rabbit by the ears, marched up to Sparrow, and held the limp bunny inches from her face. She leaned back.
“Here’s your dinner. Take it.”
Sparrow kept her hands at her sides, her lips drawing back.
“Take it,” Wolfrik said, forcefully grabbing her hand and closing her fist around the long, soft ears.
Her stomach squeezed, but she held on. Wolfrik backed up and reached behind a rock, producing a hunting knife. He returned to her and put the knife in her free hand. “Here,” he said gruffly. “You want to be part of the pack, you need to learn to skin and gut your own food.”
Aden raised a brow.
She could feel his attention on her as sure as a sunbeam shining through the canopy. Sparrow swallowed her revulsion and held the blade and bunny firmly in her clenched fists.
She stared into Wolfrik’s mocking gaze. “All right, show me how.”
“Follow me to the river,” Wolfrik said, waving her forward with the scoop of his arm.
Aden stayed behind, which was a relief. She didn’t want him to see her butcher the bunny, and possibly heave up her guts in the process.
“Lose the dress,” Wolfrik said once they reached the river.
She glared at him.
He folded his arms over his chest, his pupils drilling into hers. “This is going to get messy, and I’m not bringing you another one.”
Sparrow cursed and bared her teeth at him, which made Wolfrik hoot with laughter.
“Sure you’re cut out for pack life?” he asked in a condescending voice.
She stomped her foot over the ground. “Screw it,” she blasted, setting the rabbit and knife down to pull the dress over her head
Seeing her in her bra and undies, Wolfrik tsked and shook his head. “Not even naked. You have a long way to go, Sparrow.”
“Well, one thing at a time,” she returned.
Wolfrik laughed, eyes gleaming. “Speaking of which, quit stalling and pick up that rabbit.”
Despite his brutish ways, Wolfrik was right about a couple of things—if Sparrow wanted to be part of the pack, she’d need to do her part—and skinning an animal was messy work.
“Here, I’ll hold it for you while you skin it,” Wolfrik said, taking the dead animal from her. “First cut a ring around each of the rabbit’s legs.”
Sparrow wrinkled her nose as she brought the knife to one of the rabbit’s hind legs.
Wolfrik watched her intently, looking more serious than she’d ever seen him before. “Lower,” he instructed.
She lowered the knife and looked at him for confirmation.
“Now cut through the fur—not too deep!”
Sparrow stopped pressing the knife through the fur and jerked the knife away. Her hand shook, and her stomach did flips. It wasn’t revulsion that twisted through her gut now, but pressure to get this right—to not fuck up in front of Wolfrik.
“Just take it slow,” he said.
Luckily, he seemed to want her to succeed just as much as she did. He probably cared more about not wasting good meat than Sparrow’s butchering skills, but at least he walked her through the process patiently.
When it came time to pull the hide from the body, Sparrow gagged.
It was a good thing she’d digested her breakfast already—and good she’d taken off the dress, though she’d never admit it aloud.
“Stay focused,” Wolfrik said.
She swallowed down her bile and nodded. She had to finish this task if she wanted a place among the shifters.
The underside of the hide felt wet and goopy as she worked it down the upper torso to the head. After she pulled the h
ide over the skull, Wolfrik said words that made her stomach clench.
“Now sever the head.”
Bile rose up her throat. She clamped her mouth shut.
“Are you going to be sick?” Wolfrik demanded.
Lips pressed together, she shook her head.
A pleased smile rose ever so slightly up his lips and made her more determined not to let him down.
“Almost finished, Sparrow.”
She gripped the knife and sawed through the rabbit’s neck until it detached, along with the hide.
“Good job,” Wolfrik said, snatching up the fur.
Relief rolled through her when he didn’t toss the soft brown coat at her with instructions to turn it into a hat or slippers.
Once the blood and guts were washed away, Wolfrik took the meat as well. “It will get easier,” he said before heading back to camp.
Hope flared inside Sparrow’s chest. Maybe she would make it through this ordeal and find a place to call home among the wolf shifters . . . And the werewolf.
She rinsed herself off in the river.
Just when my undergarments were almost fully dry, she thought wryly as cool water soaked into them. That’s pack life for you. She chuckled to herself and shook the water off as best she could before putting the dress back on.
Smoke wafted from a campfire Aden had started while they were at the river. Wolfrik poked chunks of rabbit meat through the pointy end of a whittled stick and balanced it on top of rocks close to the fire.
“Keep an eye on it, or it will burn,” he told her.
Sparrow no longer cared what tone he used with her. Wolfrik was helping her. He stayed through dinner and sampled her kill—well, not her kill, Aden’s, but she felt as though she’d played an important part in the evening’s meal.
“I prefer my meat rare, but it’s not bad.” Wolfrik spoke while chewing. He sat on the ground making smacking sounds as he ate.
Aden chewed slowly, keeping his thoughts to himself
The meat was tough, but all Sparrow had was time, and a long, drawn-out meal helped some of it pass.
When Wolfrik finished, he wiped the back of his arm over his mouth then belched. He glanced up at the darkened sky.
Run along, Wolfrik, Sparrow thought. She stole a glance at Aden with his brooding gaze and pressed lips and remembered him echoing Wolfrik’s sentiments by calling her a problem.
Scratch that, stay, she amended. If Wolfrik accepted her into his pack, maybe others would.
Wolfrik stood slowly, stretched his arms high above his head, and yawned. After he lowered his arms, he grinned. “I’m heading back.”
Aden nodded.
Sparrow’s heart froze, and her eyes stretched wide.
Wolfrik caught her look of horror and laughed. “Don’t look so worried, Sparrow. Aden hasn’t killed you yet. I’m sure he doesn’t plan to tonight.”
Aden blinked and frowned at Wolfrik.
Sparrow quickly took her attention off the werewolf shifter, lost for words. She didn’t have anything to say. Wolfrik left the campsite chuckling his way into the woods. A short silence followed before she heard the sound of his animal running north.
She turned her attention to her lap. Wolfrik had no idea she’d lain with Aden the night before. At least the aloof shifter’s silence was good for something. For a man of few words, it hurt even more that he’d used them against her.
“She’s the entire pack’s problem now.”
Her skin prickled, remembering his words. If that’s how he felt, he could stay outside and brood by himself in front of the fire.
Sparrow stood and stormed into her cave. Her motions felt angry, like they’d just had a fight. During previous evenings, she’d called out “good night.” She said nothing this time. Inside the seclusion of her cave, she removed her dress and undergarments, setting them over rocks so they could fully dry overnight. They would have been better placed beside the fire, but she sure as shit wasn’t stripping for Aden.
She shook out the blanket and spread it over the sandy ground, lying on one half then pulling the other over her body. She faced one side then turned to the other. She tried lying on her back. Sand found its way inside the blankets with her as she moved around trying to settle into a comfortable position.
She mumbled and cursed under her breath.
The sound of a male voice clearing his throat immobilized her. For some reason, her first instinct was to hold still and pretend she was asleep. She nearly laughed. That would be believable after he’d seen her thrashing around like a bird caught in barbed wire.
“When I said problem, I meant responsibility.”
Damn Aden and his sexy, sincere voice.
“Got it,” Sparrow said, burrowing into the blankets. She should have muttered a dismissive good night. He was the type who would take the hint and leave. The trouble was, she was still angry, and madder still that she didn’t want him to go. She sat up and glared through the murky light at him. “You’re good at doing your duty, aren’t you? Good at hunting. Good at killing. Good at fucking.” She wrinkled her nose. She’d never liked that word. It’s what Hawk and his men did with their women. “I bet you’re good at everything.” Her anguish and anger brought a sneer to her lips.
Aden folded his broad, beautiful arms over his chest. “What do you want?” he asked.
“What do you want?” Sparrow fired back, angry, impatient heat flaring up her spine. The blanket slid down her chest. It wasn’t like she had breasts to hold it up—not like the female shifters who had gathered around the camp before the battle. Sparrow suddenly hated them all. The lucky lady wolves had large breasts and got to shift whenever they liked.
She glared at Aden, her question hanging overhead, like a bat.
Aden lowered his arms and stalked up to her, hunching to avoid hitting his head against the rock ceiling. The closer he came, the more he crouched, until he resembled a beast come to ravish her.
“I want you on all fours,” he growled, flipping her around.
Sparrow squeaked in surprise as he spun her. Instead of looking up at him and the weak light leaking in from the cave’s opening, she found herself on her hands and knees, facing into the darkness. Her legs trembled beneath her, but she was wet and ready for him.
She heard him yanking off his sweatpants and began to pant in anticipation.
When he touched her between the legs, she instantly moaned. His fingers stilled, and he sucked in a breath. There was no hiding her desire—how wet she was for him. It was on full display, like her body, and she couldn’t do a thing about it.
Aden spread her open and entered her from behind.
Sweet Jesus, she’d never done it doggy style before. As he pumped into her, she felt herself come undone. Her palms fisted the sandy floor of the cave.
Aden gripped her by her hips and pounded between her legs.
When had stars entered the cave? They twinkled across her vision.
Sparrow pushed her body back at the beast behind her, wanting to participate in the sweet torture firing through her groin. Her movements added to the friction and tempest building inside her. An explosion felt as though it were a mere gasp away. It was too soon. She didn’t want him to finish and leave her alone in that dank, dark cave. So, she reversed tactics, and instead of shoving back, she tried to crawl forward.
Aden hauled her against him by her hips.
Sparrow’s pleasure echoed throughout the cave and the cavity of her mind.
If Hawk could see her now, he’d burst several blood vessels. Hell, his brain might explode entirely. Now that would be sweet revenge—better than anything she could have ever planned or carried out back at the compound.
She cried out louder—a nonverbal “fuck you” to her brother.
A strained groan rumbled over her back.
Appa
rently she wasn’t the only one fighting for control. Once Aden pounded inside her, there was no holding on.
The orgasm was explosive. It filled her mind with light. She could have sworn it shot out of her eyeballs and briefly lit up the cave. After she cried out, Aden was unstoppable, thundering inside her with violent thrusts.
His breath grew heavy. Rough fingers dug into her thighs as he emptied himself inside her in warm bursts that filled her to the brim. He thrust and jerked one final time then drew back, moving slowly to the side of the cave, where he huddled near the dark wall, regaining his breath.
Sparrow gathered the blanket around her naked body, clutching the fabric around her chest.
She kept her back to him, waiting to hear what he would do, what he would say—if anything. Silence filled the cave. She could hear the thump of her heart in her ears. A soft sigh came from Aden’s direction. She heard him scoot away and leave the cave. Her heart fluttered and dropped. She didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved.
She turned in place and looked toward the cave’s opening. Full darkness had closed in on the forest, giving the illusion that the cave had been sealed.
She remained seated, staring out, listening, and thinking—replaying her latest interaction with the quiet werewolf shifter.
She heard movement outside the cave. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and she watched as Aden crouched down and stepped in, making his way back toward her. Sparrow’s heart grew wings, beating rapidly—trying to escape.
Once he was close enough, Aden got onto his knees beside her and pushed her gently onto her back. He stroked the top of her head, her cheek, her lips. He took his time gently touching her face, eyes fixed on her as though he really were a caveman who had never seen a woman before. They were different species. Not only that, it felt like they spoke different languages, touch their only form of communication.
Tingles ran along Sparrow’s hairline and down her neck. She’d never felt so safe, so content—like no harm could reach them in this cave. It was a prison she could almost come to love so long as her keeper continued to lavish her in attention.
Aden opened the blanket, eyes alighting on her body.
Sparrow closed her eyes and wished her breasts weren’t so small. She felt a large, callused thumb circle one nipple and then the other. Prying her lashes apart slowly, she noticed Aden’s concentration and hooded gaze fastened to her chest. The desire she saw on his face confused her. She was tall and skinny, flat-chested—and one hundred percent human.
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