Page 77 of Wolf's Gambit

“Stay.” The alpha command was sharp. He turned me so quickly I would have stumbled had he not pressed my back against his chest, his arm circled my waist, holding me in place. I felt him push my head down. “Three times,” he repeated. “You sure?”

“Humans have things called hearing aids…you should get one,” I snarked at him, the fogginess of him holding me clearing.

“I hear you just fine, pup,” he said with amusement. “You had no other wounds when you woke?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know. I had been out of this form for so long after the attack I could have been black and blue and wouldn’t know.

“Kezia?” he demanded sharply.

“Why?” I snapped back. “What are you looking at?”

“A scar,” Royce told me, trying to ease the tension between us.

Cannon let me go, and I turned to face them both. “A scar?”

He was angry. I could feel his temper riding his emotions. “They shot you three times? You’re clear on that?” I nodded. It wasn’t good enough for him. “Ask her.”

How many times? Three?

She nodded.

“Three,” I confirmed.

Cannon stepped back, hands on his hips as he watched me. “Then who the fuck shot you first?”

“First?”

“Lift your hair,” he demanded. I automatically complied. Even my sassy self knew not to push him right now. “Royce, come here.”

The other man walked closer, reached out, and I jumped when Cannon snarled. “Don’t touch her.”

“I’m not contagious, asshole,” I hissed at him, my cheeks flaming.

“Shut up,” Cannon growled at me, but I felt the gentle sweep of his fingers against my shoulder.

“This one is paler,” he told Royce, stroking the back of my neck. “Older?”

I felt Royce at my back. “Turn her to the light. I need to see her shoulder.”

“I can move,” I grumbled when Cannon moved me slightly. They both ignored me.

“It’s definitely paler, but I don’t know if that means older. You would miss it if you didn’t know to look for it.” Royce stood back. “Doc might know.”

“Go.”

I lowered my arms, my hair falling down my back as I turned to look at the alpha. He was watching me, his face closed off, his arms at his sides, his fingers curled into fists.

“Why are you mad at me now?” I asked, bending to pick up my sweatpants. My cry of alarm caught in my throat as he moved with speed only a shifter possessed.

I was pushed up against the bars, his head in the crook of my neck.

“Whoa,” I choked out, my fingers digging into his biceps. “What’s going on?” My heart was thumping in my chest, and every nerve in my body was on red alert as he pressed his body into mine.

“Your scent,” he told me gruffly. “Your arousal is…a lot.”

Holy Luna. I was going to die of embarrassment.

“Um, sorry?” I couldn’t deny how he affected me. We were shifters.

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