Page 44 of Wrestling With Werewolves

Salsa. Salsa from a band my mother introduced my father to when they were dating. That music style didn’t originate in Santa Alaya, but it’s beloved at home anyhow. The music is old, but good salsa music will never go out of style. That’s a hill I’m willing to die on.

Richard takes my guitar and sets it down. Then he drapes my arm over his shoulder and brings his hand low in the middle of my back. He takes my free hand and places my palm flat over his chest, his nostrils flaring as he pulls our bodies flush.

He dips down, lips hovering above mine. “Lista, Princesa?” Are you ready, Princess?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER - RICHARD

Ispent a godsawful three hours today in meetings about haven planning. Arkan has…ideas. Normally, I love that shit. But with the discord between Lola and me, all I wanted was to find her. And after that conversation with Vikand, I feel unmoored by it all. There’s so little readable information about a Luna bond. But from the little Vikand was able to share, it’s possible…

But here? With her in my arms? Everything is right. Everything feels peaceful. Including Big Daddy, who’s lying on his side at the forefront of my mind, staring at her with obvious adoration.

I push forward, moving her body. She follows as if we’ve danced together for years. We sway and dip around the room, every swing and move of her hips stoking a fire that appeared in me the same day she showed up in Ever.

I slide my hand up between her shoulder blades to the base of her neck, gripping it tight as I press my forehead to hers. Her hand is flat between us, but her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. I resist the urge to rip it off and let her dig those fingers into my skin.

The song ends and morphs into the next one. So we keep dancing, spinning around the room, our lips close enough that we share every breath. I lose track of time and everything but the woman wrapped in my arms, her lithe body pressed to mine. I’m half a moment from burying my mouth on hers, conversation be damned. By Alaya’s grace, I manage to hold back and enjoy these moments with her.

Still, I can’t keep my hands off her, and I drop her free hand so I can wrap my arm around her and hold her tighter. Her fingers come to my waist, digging into the band of my jeans where she holds on.

It’s so fucking natural to dance with her. We’re in perfect sync. Big Daddy’s a silent, contented observer, and that feels good too. This woman has rewired my brain in mere days. Every instinct, every focus is on the way she relaxes into my hold, letting me lead and guide. And the only way I can lead is because she allows me to do so. Dancing is such a perfect metaphor for the way alphas and omegas fit together.

Lola closes her eyes and sways with me, her body following mine as I lead us through a dozen more songs, then two dozen, then three. The moon shines brightly through the front glass wall.

But then her stomach rumbles, and Big Daddy’s ears prick up.

She needs food, he commands, as if I didn’t just hear.

I don’t correct him, though. Instead, I dance her back into the kitchen, laughing when I deposit her onto the same stool from before.

“I promised food ages ago,” I say with a laugh. “Let me make good on that promise.”

She rests her cheek in her palm and stares at me, her expression amused. “Yeah, you did. I ate an entire tray of brownies on the way over here, but I’m starving anyhow.”

Take care of her, Big Daddy shouts at me. Feed her, let her bite our fingers. Do all of this in bed, please, for the love of all things wolfy.

This batch of tamales won’t be ready for a little while still, but I had prepped a batch for myself before Lola arrived. They sit, now cold, next to where I was making a batch for Leighton’s family. Grabbing a frying pan, I wait for it to heat. Lola watches me in silence, but it’s peaceful between us.

“What did you do all day?” I question. “I came to your place this morning.”

She groans. “I was feeling awkward and not ready to talk to you about my attempt to—well, you know.” Her expression is wry, her tone forced.

I toss three bean and cheese tamales in the skillet, loving the familiar pop as they begin to heat. “I shouldn’t have let you leave last night.” I shift to the right and lean over the counter, grasping her fingers and interlocking them with mine. “I should have kissed you back. Goddess knows I wanted to, Lola. I…” I hang my head. “I thought of the consequences of us pursuing one another.”

She looks down at our interlaced hands. “But you feel a pull between us, don’t you?”

I nod. “The only pull that matters, sweetheart.” When her near-black eyes meet mine again, I bring her hand to my lips and brush my mouth over her knuckles. “It’s more than just attraction, Lola.”

Her nostrils flare as she stands and lets go of my hand. She rounds the kitchen island and hops gracefully onto it, pulling me between her thighs by the waistband of my jeans. “I want to hear you say exactly what you think it is, Richard.” Her request is laced with all the command of a pack omega. Hackles raised, my dominance rises in response to hers.

Reaching up, I grip her throat and run my thumb over her blackberry-colored lips. “Mate,” I say on an otherworldly growl. “Mine.”

Luna, Big Daddy corrects.

“My wolf thinks you’re my Luna,” I whisper. “I don’t know how I’d even know, but if I know anything at all, it’s that, unlikely as it seems, I’m yours.” Big Daddy flashes through my eyes. “And I am so desperately sorry I didn’t kiss you last night. I’m so sorry you went home hurt, and that I didn’t make it better immediately.”

Her lips part, the tip of my thumb slipping between them to press at her teeth. Inky eyes flash up to mine. “I feel you in my soul, Richard. Luna or not, whatever that means, I’m here for it.”

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