Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 168701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 844(@200wpm)___ 675(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 844(@200wpm)___ 675(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
“Head’s still a little sore,” he says. “Can see at least. And I just ran a shift test as you saw and it’s all good. Healed up and he let me back in.”
He looks over his shoulder. “Scooby did.” He shrugs with half a smirk.
A joke?
“I didn’t realize it until I was too far gone to stop it,” he says. “Man and beast splitting in two. He took over because I malfunctioned.” He winces and puts his hand to his forehead.
“So you became separate personalities?”
“Basically.” He rubs his forehead.
His head still hurts.
“There’s ibuprofen.” I gesture to the table where my phone lies between the bottles of medicine and two bottles of water. “And eyedrops if you need them.”
He gets to his feet and looks at me, looking like he’s weighing what he’s about to say next. His expression drops.
I quickly twist to reach the bottle, then shake two pills out into my hand. In the handoff, I drop them on the bed.
I’m shaky. Unnerved. He ravished me last night. And just now. And it was incredible. He didn’t get stuck. And he purred on top of me afterwards last night. And right now he’s standing here naked, glistening still from the wetness between us, looking at me like he’s about to tell me it all meant nothing. That it was only biology.
He lifts the pills and pops them into his mouth as I uncap the bottle of water for him and offer it.
He takes it. Our fingers brush and I chomp down on my lip, willing my body to stop shaking. I’m not sure what to say or do.
His eyes are on me as he sips.
“You used magic,” he says after he drinks half and passes it back to me.
Grateful, I take a few mouthfuls and put the bottle down.
“When they tried to take you,” he adds and then his expression hardens.
“Hopefully I won’t get in trouble, but uh huh. We’re not technically in your village, which was where I was told not to use it, and the situation was extreme, so… fingers crossed.”
That’s an understatement and I haven’t even begun to come to terms yet with how different my magic felt. Like it was on a hair trigger. Like I had an endless well of energy and good will to draw from. Like the tree couldn’t wait to share it with me. And I conjured wind. And lightning burst from my hands and… I can’t even wrap my mind around the two shifters that died. Bad guys. But they died.
I’d do it again, too, if it meant saving you.
“They tried to take you,” he says, leaning toward me aggressively.
“Yeah.”
And he tried to kill you. I don’t say it. And Mason and Lincoln.
His eyes glow briefly while his jaw muscles bulge. And it makes my heartrate kick up.
“Do we know any more?” he asks, and steam might as well be coming out of his nostrils with how angry he looks.
“Something to do with Greyson’s mate and that whole plot to poison and shoot Tyson and … stuff.”
“Where’s my goddamn phone?” he clips, eyes slicing across the perimeter of the room.
“I don’t know.”
He walks out. I can’t help but admire his naked form while also shrinking a little with the amped energy coming from him.
And now I’m going into ponder-mode.
Before I get very deep into the maze that’s my brain, he’s back with his phone and I avert my gaze, because… it’d be rude to gawk at his beautiful, long, thick penis.
His body is insanely fit. Muscles. Flat, defined belly. Tanned skin. That delicious facial hair which can safely be called a beard at this point because it went beyond stubble days ago.
He quickly skims his phone, grinding his teeth, which makes his jaw muscles bulge. He tosses the phone to the table beside mine before climbing back into the bed.
“I’ll let you get some more sleep,” I say, scooting down toward the bottom of the bed so I can get out. It’s early but I’m awake so I’d might as well get up.
He grabs my wrist.
I wince and our gazes lock. “Oh no you won’t.”
I won’t?
“How’d this happen?” he asks softly.
Softly? Yeah. So softly, it feels the opposite of how it’s supposed to feel. Instead, it’s like an ice pick is jammed into my heart.
I frown. That’s a soft look in his eyes, too.
I stare and my mouth drops open. He’s rubbing his thumb along a bruise ringing my wrist while examining it.
“Those assholes?”
“You did it when you grabbed me last night.”
His eyes hit mine with shock and then pain slashes through his features and he looks away.
“I did that?”
He clenches his jaw so hard I hear his teeth grind.
“It was when you were first regaining consciousness. I’m not holding it against you. I… understand, Riley.”
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, looking into my soul. “Beyond this, how are you?” His thumb caresses my bruise slowly, sweetly.