by Emma Roman
I shook my head, then turned and left the room.
Here I thought he understood.
5
I jerked awake, startled by the heavy comforter tangled around my legs and waist.
The hell?
Last I remembered, I’d eaten the second chocolate, then face-planted onto Mathis’s mattress. Alcohol and magic—a nasty combination that had drained the life out of me. Even now, my head and ribs throbbed. The former was likely the result of a hellish hangover, the latter I had no idea. The way I’d slept, maybe? Sprawled diagonally across his bed, my legs half-dangling to the floor. Ugh.
I pushed myself up, then winced at the feel of drool smeared across my cheek.
Great. Just freaking great.
My first night in a hot werewolf’s bed, and I’d hiked my dress up around my ass and drooled all over myself. Wiping the back of my hand across my cheek, I turned and inspected the room through half-slitted eyes.
Sunlight streamed through the blind slats, illuminating the room with more light than was normal this time of the…
Afternoon?
I stared at the offensive clock—convinced it was lying to me. Four twenty-five in the afternoon. Seriously?
Holy crap on a cracker.
I scrambled off the bed and teetered across the room. My small clutch sat on a small plush chair. I hadn’t put it there. Mathis, perhaps? My cheeks blazed with heat. Had he come in to check on me only to find my whole ass on display? Maybe that explained the comforter.
Great start to the day.
I shoved my hand into my clutch and extracted my cell phone, all twisted up in a pair of spare panties I carried around with me. You know, preparation and all that. Not that I’d ever needed…well, today was the first time I would ever make use of the spare underwear in my purse.
After a quick tap on my phone, I confirmed the time. Hell, I’d slept till near four-thirty in the afternoon. I’d never done that before.
On the upside, Valentine’s Day was now next year’s problem. On the downside, I’d lost nearly an entire day. And the night before. Which meant I had… Frick, I couldn’t count that high without a calculator. Something like twenty-six hours remaining in the spell.
Lots of time, right? Except, when I stopped to think about it, that wasn’t long at all. Not when it came to matters of the heart. I padded into Mathis’s attached bathroom and quickly washed up. After dragging my fingers through the rat’s nest that was my waist-length mahogany hair, I opted to braid it down my back. I had nothing here other than the clean pair of panties I’d put on. No toothbrush, no comb, nothing. And no way in hell did I intend to stumble down the stairs with a cotton mouth that reeked of morning breath. God, he’d smell it a mile away. I’d already made a complete ass of myself. Pun absolutely intended.
I grabbed the tube of toothpaste and squirted a bit on my finger. This, paired with a quick swish of mouthwash would have to do. Minty fresh, I lifted my head and met my reflection. Ugh. Avoid the vanity. Bruised shadows darkened the skin beneath my eyes, and creases from the pillows lined my cheeks. Not to mention the rumpled, day-old bridesmaid dress. This was shaping up to be my worst day ever. Because this was the ideal image of the woman every man wanted.
Top items on my to-do list today: New clothes, a shower, and burn hideous bridesmaid dress. Oh yeah, and become mates with Mathis. Couldn’t forget that.
I leaned out the door and eyed Mathis’s closest. Surely, there had to be something I could use in there. I tiptoed back into his room and eased open the door. Rows upon rows of shirts and slacks. Then below were the more relaxed items. I flicked through that section until finally stumbling across a University of Lethbridge hoodie. Two sizes too big, but hell, anything was better than this.
Yanking it off the hanger, I shimmied out of the dress and shunted it into the corner of the room where it could die a horrible death for all I cared. Then I pulled the hoodie on, grunting when my head got caught in the sleeve.
For frick’s sake. Could something please go my way?
A low growl rumbled deep in my chest.
I froze.
Oh, my God! I’d growled!
Trapped in the hoodie, I lifted my hand and cupped my throat, my heart skipping a beat at the feel of the slight vibrations rumbling against my palm. I was growling! Happy day!
Ecstatic, I wrenched the hoodie down over my head and fist-punched the air. This was wonderful, and more than I could have ever asked for. Hell, right now I didn’t care if I ever shifted.
I bolted back into the bathroom and stared at my reflection. Come on, girl, I coaxed. You can do it again. I wanted to see it. Wanted to watch the sound climb out of my throat, see my wolf come to life in my eyes.
I wanted to meet her.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of light in my eyes.
Disappointment rounded my shoulders. I gripped the edge of Mathis’s porcelain sink and held tight. Was it so much to ask for a glimpse? The witch said my body would tell me when I was ready, but I was ready now. I wanted to run, howl, and play. I wanted to strut in front of Sloe’s face and kick dirt in her eyes. I wanted to rub it in all their faces that I was more than what they thought. Petty, but deserved.
I lifted my head and sucked in a sharp breath. There, in the mirror, the wolf stared back at me. My once honey-brown eyes now shone amber.
“There you are,” I whispered. I reached out and touched the chilled glass.
My heart ballooned with happiness and hope. It was real. She was real. I could feel her pacing anxiously in the back of my head, eager to slip free of her human restraints and run. Oh, God. I wanted that too.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I whispered. I had no idea if anyone else spoke to their wolf like this. Or if their wolves were even separate in their head from the rest of them. And I didn’t care. She was here, and she was mine. “I won’t let you go.”
My fingers tightened against the sink as I considered the possibility of losing her. No. I refused to let that happen. Whatever it took, I would do it. Even if that meant mating with a man I didn’t know. It was worth it if it meant I could keep her. Piper assured me I loved Mathis. I had to take her word on that. Because I refused to give up.
I pushed back from the counter, then narrowed my gaze on the sink. Indents the exact shape of my fingers gouged the porcelain, and a fresh sprinkling of dust layered the floor. I snatched my hands back and stared down at them. Hell, I’d done that. Gripped the sink so hard, I’d damaged it.
Ah, shit. That was going to cost a pretty penny to fix.
I glanced up at the mirror once more, my mouth quirking at the sight of my bright eyes. “We’re going to have to work on that, girl.”
With a steadying breath, I smoothed my trembling hands down the front of the sweater. Thankfully, the hoodie was the same length as the dress and covered the most important bits. It was time to face the day, and convince Mathis that I could go home. At least so I could pack a bag. If he wanted me here, fine. But not without clothing and toiletries.
I toed out of the bathroom, then slipped out of the bedroom. From the sounds of it, the house was empty. Who knew if my hearing was trustworthy yet, though. I walked toward the staircase and paused, listening. Nothing still. Guess I was alone in the house.
With a massive grin, I bounded down the stairs and whirled around the corner. I crossed through the living room and skipped into the kitchen. Four-thirty in the afternoon meant I was starving. At the thought of food, the wolf perked up and turned toward me.
For the first time, I got a full image of her. Which was odd, since it was all in my head. But there she stood, so beautiful with her chocolate-brown fur and tawny eyes. We had similar coloring, I realized with a contented smile.
I wrenched open the refrigerator door and peered inside, while the wolf pressed her snout to the imaginary ground and sniffed. Something caught my nose, something that roused a growl from the deep recesses of my stomach. Oh, yeah. Definitely needed something to eat.
Though I hadn’t a cl
ue what I’d smelled, I reached in and grabbed the nearest Styrofoam container, convinced that was the source. And when I flicked it open, my mouth watered. A meatlover’s skillet. Apparently, I was now one of Pavlov’s dogs because the scent of sausage and bacon and ham had me drooling up a storm. I placed the skillet on the counter and hunted through Mathis’s cupboards until I found a frying pan. The meal needed more than just meat. I tossed the contents into the pan and turned the burner on medium. Then I returned to the fridge and pulled out peppers, onions, and tomatoes. After dicing them up, I mixed them into the skillet and stirred.
Oh, baby. I licked my lips, then turned to sniff out the hot sauce and salsa. Bon appétit! I lifted my fingers to my mouth and kissed the tips.
All that remained was sour cream. I returned to the fridge, searching for the elusive container, then stiffened when I heard a soft chuckle.
I gasped and turned, heat suffusing my cheeks at the sight of a grinning Mathis leaning against the doorframe. A brisk chill clung to his clothes, his face pinked from the cold. “There enough for two?”
My focus shifted to the frying pan. Was there? I was starving. And right now, the last thing I wanted to do was share. But this was his house, his food. “Of course.”
His laughter startled me. “You look like I just told you your puppy died. Tell you what. You enjoy that, and I’ll order us some pizza as well.”
Could I eat both?
I glanced at the plate full of delicious skillet and realized, yes, yes I could. I lifted the pan off the burner and carried it over to my plate, dishing out the food with another rumble in my tummy. Mathis sat at the table, his phone cradled in his hand as he ordered a meatlover’s pizza with almost every spare topping he could think of. Except anchovies. Because blegh.
My plate was half-empty by the time he hung up. Chuckling, he rose from his seat and headed to the fridge. After fishing out a beer, he returned to the table.
“This is so good,” I hummed around a mouthful.
“Looks good.”
I ducked my head. It was his food, and here I was making him wait for pizza. I glanced up from beneath my lashes, noting the amused grin tugging on the corners of his mouth.
“Guess your appetite is kicking in, hey?”
Appetite? I paused, the fork dangling near my mouth. I hadn’t thought of that. I’d figured my hunger was a result of sleeping the day away. But he was right. As a general rule, werewolves consumed twice as much food as humans. Something about their—our—metabolisms running hotter.
I clapped a hand over my mouth before grinning. He didn’t need to see half-chewed food.
“And I see you’re pleased about it.”
I swallowed, then scooped up another forkful. This time, I rose from my seat and closed the distance between us, my other hand held beneath the fork in case any food fell. Nibbling my bottom lip, I offered him the fork. “Bite?”
A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes. “You, or the food?”
Oh, doggie. And speaking of doggies, she perked up at the sight of him. Was that a sign? I’d heard talk of mates knowing they belonged together, feeling a connection that exceeded the normal. It was the way he watched me that made me wonder: Was that how he felt?
What if we weren’t true mates? What if this was nothing more than simple lust?
And how the hell was I supposed to know the difference?
My wolf turned and eyed me, as though to say you just know. But I didn’t know. And I didn’t know him. Still, I knew how he made me feel. How my body lit up around him, how my heart lost all manner of rhythm.
Be brave.
I eased into his lap, emboldened by the sharp breath he sucked in. His arms closed around me, holding me in place, his thighs warm beneath mine.
“Juniper?”
Forcing myself to breathe, I moved the fork toward him and waited for him to take the bite. He moved slow and purposeful, his eyes never leaving mine. I watched as his lips parted and closed around the food. God, I wanted to sink more than my fork into that mouth.
I waited for him to swallow, then asked, “Good?”
“Who the fuck knows,” he rasped before cupping my face and bringing our mouths together.
Sweet Jesus. My damned ovaries exploded. With an unbecoming groan, I sank into the kiss, my hands clutching at his shirt. He tasted of the skillet. And now more than ever, I was grateful I’d used his mouthwash this morning.
He pulled back from the kiss, his startling jade eyes sweeping over my face. “I just want to devour you. The moment I walked in and saw that pert ass of yours hanging out of my fridge. And wearing my sweater…”
I stole the next kiss, angling my head just right. His arms tightened around me, and without warning, he lowered us to the floor, my head braced on his forearm.
“Juniper, if you’re uncomfortable in any way—”
“Shut up,” I whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.
His chest rumbled with laughter, which ended the moment my hands swept down his back and cupped his ass. He smoothed my hair back from my face, his lips sliding from mine as he nibbled his way across my jaw. I gave a contented sigh, then reached for his belt buckle.
He froze above me, every muscle in his body going taut. “Wait.”
“Why?”
He paused, his palms cupping my cheeks, then cursed under his breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“Get up,” he growled.
Before I could blink, he was on his feet and pulling me up. While fumbling with his belt, he gave me a once over. “As much as I love your outfit, you’re going to want to find something to cover yourself.”
“Why? Mathis, what’s going on?”
“Ah, shit,” he muttered a second before the doorbell rang.
Oh, the pizza. I’d almost forgotten about it. But damn, that’d been fast. He’d only called a few minutes ago. Maybe it was an alpha thing. Putting his food order above all others. Not that it explained why I needed to put on more clothes…
My father’s voice, on the other hand, cleared everything up.
With a small squeak, I bolted through the house and up the stairs. Damn it! I hadn’t gone home yet to change. All I had was Mathis’s sweater or my dress. And if I put on the same dress from last night… Oh, this was horrible. Yes, I was twenty-one, but the last thing I needed was to strut downstairs in men’s clothing, or the same outfit from the night before. I had standards!
I rummaged through Mathis’s dresser, mentally apologizing as I tore through his underwear drawer. But thankfully, I found what I was looking for. A pair of grey sweatpants with a drawstring.
My father’s voice boomed through the house. “Where’s my daughter?”
Sweet mother of Mercury. No way he’d challenge the alpha, right?
But I knew I needed to get down there before something terrible happened.
I slipped into Mathis’s sweats and wrenched the drawstring as tight as I could. Once convinced they wouldn’t slip off my hips, I bolted back down the stairs and skidded to a stop in the living room, where three pairs of eyes turned my way.
Oh, shit. My father had brought reinforcements.
“Mom,” I said, breathless. “Dad. What are you guys doing here?”
My mother stalked forward, perfectly balanced in her three-inch pumps. She’d always made it look effortless. As she had everything else in her life. Her hair was perfectly coifed, the same mahogany locks swept back from her face to emphasize her angular cheeks and sharp blue eyes. “Piper called us today. She grew concerned when she couldn’t get a hold of you.”
My phone. Right. I’d noticed the missed notifications, but I’d been a mite bit distracted by everything else happening in my life. “Well, I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.”
“I want to know what the hell is going on here,” my father demanded.
Wincing, I met his chestnut-brown gaze.
“You reek of wolf,” my mother accused, her narrowed eyes flicking back to Mathis.
Thankfully, he seemed in a jovial mood. He leaned against the wall, hiding the massive hole he’d punched through it, his mouth pulled upward. A mouth I would have enjoyed…
No! Come on, girl! Think with something other than your hormones…
“Juniper,” my mother snapped. “We demand an explanation.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“No?” Her gaze turned arctic. “So, you didn’t spend the night with our alpha? You aren’t wearing his clothes? You didn’t seek out a witch after Rumor’s wedding?”
Piper… A low snarl ripped free of my throat.
Both my parents startled, their expressions priceless.
This time I was grateful when the doorbell rang a second time. Mathis pushed off the wall and sauntered past, abandoning me to my parents’ wrath.
“Um. We ordered pizza,” I murmured. “If you’re hungry. I can fill you in over a slice?”
The scent of meat wafted up through the house, and my mother’s nostrils flared. She glanced at my father, then gave a haughty shrug. “We could eat.”
They were werewolves, they could always eat.
6
Twelve slices weren't enough for four werewolves. Luckily, I wasn’t feeling up to eating. Something about the skillet had set off my stomach. Even the smell of the pizza made me feel nauseous. My slice sat on my plate, practically untouched, while the other three had devoured the entire pie. Thankfully, the food had provided enough of a distraction for me to gather my thoughts.
I leaned back in my seat, my hand cradling my stomach and listened to their inane chatter.
“Well?” my father asked after patting his hands dry on a paper towel. “Out with it. Care to explain why you smell like a wolf?”
Saliva pooled in the back of my mouth. I forced myself to swallow, hoping it would settle my stomach.
“Juniper?”
I shook my head. “Look, I appreciate your concern…”
“Concern? You had us downright worried.”
I rocked to my feet and teetered toward the sink. Pretty sure I was about to vomit. I pressed my hand to my slick brow, noting my increased temperature. “Um, I get that. I’m sorry. I—”
