Page 37 of Mated to the Wolves

The door swings inward and I hit a hard muscled chest masquerading as a brick wall. Powerful arms wrap around me, and I look into electric blue eyes.

“I need to see the Volva.”

“Not like this, you don’t,” Kirk appears to my right, one long slender finger titling my chin up. “Let me see your eyes.”

“I’m okay. My legs fell asleep from kneeling too long, I think.”

“You were in there for over an hour, Princess,” Bo says.

I look up, shocked. He hovers next to Fell a foot behind us.

“What? It felt like minutes.” My stomach growls.

“That’s it, we’re putting food into your belly and setting ground rules,” Cadoc swoops me into his arms.

Bo waves him off. “I’m not a fan of rules.”

“It wasn’t a request,” Cadoc reply holds a dark warning.

His energy fills the room, thickening the air. Bo grows quiet.

As the eldest with the most power, Cadoc is clearly taking control as head of our clan. The others could challenge him for the position, but it’d be a fruitless endeavor with Cadocs’ prowess and age.

Climbing the stairs, he walks me to the breakfast nook and sits he sits me on a tall expresso-colored stool.

“You stay put. Kirk, watch over her?”

“I’m on it,” Kirk takes a seat beside me.

“You two.” Cadoc motions to Fell and Bo. “Help me prepare dinner.”

Bo groans. “Why me?” He walks ahead into the kitchen fit for a chef. Bo’s green tunic stands out against his paler skin, making his dark hair stand out more.

Fell pauses. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.” I don’t want his concern. He had years to care.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Kirk lifts my arm and places two fingers on my pulse point on my wrist, effectively silencing me.

He knows I’ll throw the reading off If I speak. I roll my eyes as Fell lingers, hovering over me like he still has the right.

“Food won’t prepare itself, Fell,” Cadoc calls.

“Coming.” Fell moves away and I relax, admiring the shiny stainless-steel appliances and expensive kitchen gadgets.

The garlic press Cadoc is using looks like it could fund a week’s worth of meals in the college mess hall. The open concept helps us all remain connected, which I crave, despite the awkwardness.

My wolf’s missed being among our kind, and she is excited by the prospects of mates, even if we didn’t get to choose them for ourselves.

“Your pulse is good.” Kirk releases me. I immediately miss his warmth. “Do you feel dizzy?”

“No.” I frown.

“Any nausea or pain?” Kirk’s dark gaze is intense and full of emotions, I can’t read as he focuses all his attention on me.

“No.” I exhale, suddenly drained. The night is catching up with me. Shoulders slumping, I close my eyes.

“Ylva?” Kirk’s voice is concerned.

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