Caius distracts the grumbling Alpha with a beer. “She’s scared and chose your bed because it made her feel safe. Take it as a compliment.”
“Yeah, because I love fresh salty fur in my bed,” he mutters at him, taking the beer and nearly breaking the neck of it.
I return to the stove, flipping the salmon steak once more to sear the opposite side. “If it makes you feel better, she rolled in all our sheets.”
“That doesn't make me feel better,” he bites back.
I shrug. “At least her salty fur comes with a sweet perfume.”
“Great. So I’ll feel grimy and want to jerk off.” He slams his beer down on the counter. “I’m going to go see if I can’t coax the human out of her furry shell so we can have an adult conversation about boundaries.”
“Try not to go too hard on her,” I call to him. “She’s cute.”
He grunts, disappearing from view as he enters the living area.
“Someone’s in a mood,” I say, glancing at Caius. “The beach party not go well?”
“Dirk challenged him.” Caius picks up Tieran’s beer to take a swig. “T put him in his place right quick, but he’s concerned.”
“About the girl?” I guess.
Caius nods. “Her scent is like a drug.”
“Like an Omega, you mean.” I’ve scented a few before and they were all sickly sweet, just like the little darling downstairs.
“Yeah. It’s going to rip this island apart.”
I turn off the burner before sliding the salmon onto a tray for the oven. I only singe the outside before baking it to help with texture and seasoning.
“It also may be exactly what we need,” I say, thinking out loud. “An Alpha isn’t complete without his circle.”
Caius takes another sip of the beer, his eyes more silver today than gray. They often change with his mood. When they shift to green, it means he’s angry. Silver and gray tend to imply he’s feeling more relaxed or content.
Green is a rare look on him.
Silver is the most common.
“Maybe fate brought her here,” he suggests after a beat. “He needs an Omega. Maybe she’s ours.”
A snarl echoes up from downstairs, making us both freeze.
“Well,” Caius drawls, clearing his throat. “Assuming he doesn’t kill her first.”
7
CLOVE
My wolf has a death wish.
She’s a fucking psycho.
And she’s going to get us killed.
Because she decided to take a nap in the Carnage Island Alpha’s bed.
His low growl from the doorway is a warning I feel to my very core. But all it does is draw a little whine of irritation from my suicidal wolf.
She picks up her head, yawns at him, and proceeds to flop over to her other side.
And closes her eyes.
I scream at her to move. To bow. To run. Anything but just relax in the Alpha’s bed as though she belongs there.
“I see,” he says, his tone holding a lethal note that makes me wince inside.
This is not going to end well.
“I think we need to have a conversation about etiquette and common decency, little one.” He sounds calm. Too calm. And because my wolf’s eyes are closed, I can’t see his face. But I hear him prowling toward me, his presence a darkness threatening to suffocate me from the inside out.
Tieran, V called him.
A name I know very well.
A name I’ve feared for years.
Tieran isn’t just the Carnage Island Alpha.
He’s the Black Mountain Alpha’s son.
The same one who slaughtered Alpha Bryson’s daughter. That’s why he’s here—not for being rejected, but for slaughtering his mate.
And my wolf decided to nap in his bed.
Now she’s ignoring him, content to relax in his presence, utterly unaware of the growing tension in the room.
I really am broken. It’s the only explanation for her relaxing state and my inability to wake her the fuck up.
His palm comes down on my rump, making my wolf yelp in surprise. “Off,” he demands.
She snarls in response.
And he snarls right back, the angry sound loud and reverberating through my ears.
My heart actually stops. I feel it stutter. Just as I sense my wolf’s inability to breathe.
She’s terrified.
Fucking finally.
But rather than fight or run, she freezes, like she’s forgotten how to move.
“Off,” he repeats, his tone one that would bring me to my knees if I were in human form. His Alpha energy is intoxicating and overwhelming and so damn thick that I can’t see straight.
Or maybe that’s my wolf losing her sight. She hasn’t taken a breath in too long a time. Our lungs are aching. Yet she remains frozen, his snarl having rendered her incapable of functioning.
He reaches for us and I beg her to run, beg her to do anything other than sit here like a disobedient pet on his bed. But she refuses me.
She merely shivers as his hands take hold of her scruff to guide us off the bed.
He’s not rough, but he’s not gentle either.
And he curses at whatever he sees in his sheets.
“All right, little brat,” he says, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. “I think I know what you need.”
My vision is starting to blur with black spots.
My wolf is feeling unbalanced.
My lungs are burning.
She’s lost all control of her motor functions and has obviously forgotten our will to survive. Because my wolf is still frozen, just in his arms now.
At least inhale, I beg her, my heart splintering at this helpless sensation. I feel so shattered. So utterly useless. So… so… lost.
I’m not this girl.
I’m not meek or unintelligent.
I should have control of this situation.
But I… I just don’t. And I have no idea what to do.
The room is so dark now it’s black.
And my damn wolf refuses to—
Water hits my head unexpectedly, drawing a sharp intake of air from my wolf that she releases on a low whine of disapproval.
“If you want to sleep in my bed, then you’re at least going to be clean,” Tieran says as he sets me down in a space bigger than my bedroom back home.
A shower, I realize, noting the marble and various heads. Who needs a shower this big?
“Sit,” he demands, talking to me like a dog.
Which I would normally be pissed about, but my wolf is behaving like an untamed canine, so his treatment is probably deserved.