Chapter 30: Caine: Behaving Strangely

CAINE

There’s something strange about her tonight. She’s calmer than this morning, a little more assured, despite the familiar scent in her room. Storming down the hall, I snap at Fenris, Are you sure it’s him?

When have I ever mistaken a scent? It’s the wolf who followed her when we first met. His irritation only feeds mine, like a cloud of dark energy following behind.

No new injuries marred her skin, no fresh bruises. At least there’s that. But that doesn’t explain the scent of another wolf in her room. A Blue Mountain wolf. One who shouldn’t dare approach...

"Damn it. She’s driving me crazy."

It will only get worse if you keep denying our connection to her.

The tattoos on my neck burn, and I lift my upper lip in a snarl. "Everything will be fine once I settle things." The others were right; she’s a victim, not a prisoner. And yet I can’t bring myself to send her back to human society.

She’s been under Brax’s thumb for six years. There are things she needs in order to survive as a human. A driver’s license. A place to live. Money. Food. A job.

The more I think of, the worse it feels to even consider sending her back to the humans. At least if I brought her with us, she would have shelter, food, and never have to work again...

Shit. Fenris is messing with my thoughts again. Now I’m even considering bringing her to our pack, as if a human could ever survive surrounded by Lycans.

aroma of blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven. Without imagining how her hair would feel between my fingers. Without wondering

of her bare beneath me, her skin flushed and warm beneath my touch. I see every curve, every soft plane of her body, exposed for my eyes alone, the

Fuck.

my head sharply,

has forced upon me is disrupting everything. I’ve

agrees. I’m glad you’re finally

you,"

we both know is true. My mind is clear because I’ve accepted our connection with the human. You, on the other hand,

even reject their mates." Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never had

normal wolf. Or even a normal

of tattoos. The

possession. Where they feel protectiveness, I feel rage. Where

gave you power, but they took your humanity in

end of the hall and turn, pacing back the way I came. The Blue Mountain shifter standing guard outside her door stiffens. It wasn’t his scent in her room, but

I going to do? Hunt the man down? Demand to know why he was visiting? The girl isn’t hurt;

first place. She won’t eat with me standing there, and she needs the sustenance. I have to give her space, even if I want to throw open the door and stand there, breathing in her scent for the next hour. Maybe three hours.

Forever? Fenris suggests.

it say of me if I followed in his footsteps? I swore to uphold the law when I became King. I said I wouldn’t let power

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