Page 76 of The Wolf in My Tavern

My cock jerks vigorously. Fuck, do not think about that!

On the bed, Ada frets a little. He emits a deep, rumbly purr, and she instantly softens, settling back into sleep.

I want to rip the bastard apart for what he has done to her, but he is comforting her now in his strange, savage way, and I find I do not want to move lest I wake her. If she wakes, it might cause her distress as she remembers all that passed.

I want her to sleep a little.

Also, while she sleeps, he is not fucking her.

Finished with his duties, he sets the bowl and cloth aside on the table before the window and returns to the bed. Selecting the fresh pelt rolled up against the side, he carefully tucks her in with a tenderness that defies logic when one considers all that he has done.

He turns to stare down at me with a scowl that says he is thinking of thumping me, when a gentle knock sounds upon the door.

His eyes narrow as he turns toward it. Then he pins me with another glare before striding for the door.

His steps are surprisingly light. He opens the door a small way that still brings an icy breeze into the room. He barks a low order at whoever waits beyond, and quiet words are returned before he carefully swings open the door and steps outside, still fully naked.

I had heard that shifters do not care much about their state of undress and do not feel the cold.

The door shuts, and I hear the sound of the lock turning.

Bastard.

My attention goes back to the bed where the ravished lass is sleeping like a princess in her barbaric bed.

My fingers are going fucking numb. I need to stand and work some life back into them, but I don’t want to wake her.

Carefully, I bend my knees and attempt to rise. It is surprisingly tricky given I am exhausted and my arms and hands are fucking useless. Moving brings a fresh wave of agony, and an involuntary grunt escapes my lips.

I check the bed—still asleep.

The chain rattles a little, making me grimace as I slowly stand, but I am committed now as the arrival of pounding blood into my arms brings yet more excruciating pain.

“Callum?”

Fuck, I have woken her up.

She pushes the furs aside, sitting up groggily before she glances around the room.

“He is not here,” I say. My voice sounds rough from all my roaring behind the gag. I nod my head toward the door… because I cannot lift my hand to fucking point. “He left a few minutes ago.”

She brushes knotty hair from her face, sighs, and then puts her head in her hands.

“Ada?”

She shakes her head.

Her pain hits me in the center of the chest. “Ada, please.” I want to know if my Ada is in there—the one I fell in love with and who I still consider mine.

She lowers her hands, although her face is downcast. Rising from the bed, she pads over to me, naked.

My nostrils flare as I see the marks littering her body—the bite to the side of her throat is fucking savage and brings a surge of violent intent toward the shifter responsible for it.

Only, my cock is still fucking hard, and a strange darkness inside me is only pissed that the claiming bite was done by someone else.

She stops a pace away from me, her pretty hazel eyes lifting to meet mine, the lashes damp with tears. “Do you still love me?”

I blink, and everything inside me softens… even my fucking cock. “As if I could ever stop.”

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