Page 43 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

He’d be at her mercy.

Injured or not.

They’d keep the garage open, but turn one of the back rooms or an office into a makeshift hospital. He wasn’t the only one in need of attention. They’d dressed wounds the best they could. How intuitive it had been for Seren to suggest they’d be shot or stabbed. Those men came at them with everything they had, which was only natural in a fight to the death. They were all shifters and they’d be fine, provided they got the bullets out and cleaned up their wounds properly. Brooke wasn’t needed. It wasn’t anything their own bodies and some OTC painkillers couldn’t take care of.

“Rome.”

He coughed when he caught Seren giving him an ironclad stare down. “Seren.”

She crossed her arms and tossed that mane of bright pink hair over her shoulder, sassing him silently, but her concern was there in her pinched expression.

“Well, we should get going. Thank you so much for spending some time with Waverly while I had to do a few work things this morning.”

“Work things,” she hissed. “I guess I have my own work things to do shortly.” She might have given him one last scorching frown, but then she knelt down and opened her arms to Waverly. “I’ll see you Sunday, honey. I had this idea that maybe we could bake cookies.” She turned her eyes up to Rome. “I can bring everything we’ll need.”

“Great. Make them sugarless.”

“Cookies? Wow. Should we make them with bran and prunes instead?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Waverly giggled. “I like prunes.”

“Good! Prunes it is, then.”

He’d do his best to find a healthy recipe and have what they needed ahead of time. Waverly was just a kid, but the dentist.They were as bad as hospitals.

Seren hugged Waverly hard and then walked them to the door. It was getting harder to hide his limp. He’d need dental attention of his own from grinding his teeth against the pain if he didn’t get home and then to the garage soon.

Seren studied him, expression for once inscrutable. “Take care of yourselves,” she told them.

The pain flared, magnified by the way her eyes probed his body, looking for the source of his wounds.

He nodded, steering Waverly ahead of him, but she turned and waved. “See you Sunday!”

Seren waved back, a little frantically. “T-minus four days until cookies.”

Chapter 15

Seren

By Monday evening, Seren still had memories of gooey chocolate chip cookies, rich coffee, and cold milk on her brain. Sundays went too fast and then it was Monday. That day was a write off because she spent them in dread and the rest of the day after her debauched hour in recrimination that she didn’t have a hope in all heck in hiding from.

She walked into the garage and locked the door behind her. She knew the way to Rome’s office, and it was clear that since he wasn’t there to greet her that he knew she knew the way.

He wasn’t there, but the small, immaculately clean room smelled like him. Like walking, living, breathing sin. Her lungs expanded hard and fast when she swept her glance around the room and saw the toys laid out on the top of the desk. They’d been blocked by the monitor when she first entered, but now they were on clear display. There was everything ranging from small vibrators to huge dildos.

If Rome thought she was going to do anything with those other than shove it up his ass or nut punch him with them, he was dead wrong.

And really, she wasn’t going to do either of those things because that wasn’t her kink. It was exceptionally doubtful it was his.

The hard-hitting notes of a hip hop song she didn’t know flooded the office so suddenly that it she jumped. She rocked back on the heels of her bright pink lace-up ankle boots. She’d still gone with all black—a long velvet skirt with lace up both sides, a black tank and a black ripped up denim jacket that she’d put spikes into herself. She’d also taken out the back and put in grommets, threading bright pink laces through. She was going to paint the sides and arms and maybe a few designs on the front, but it was a work in progress.

Rome rode the music in like a fighter getting ready to shed his robe and step into the ring. No one should have the right to look so edible in an old black t-shirt and grease-stained jeans. They were his garage clothes. They smelled like oil and cars. It was completely obnoxious how that scent blended with his natural aura to make a combination that wasn’t like breathing in exhaust.

“Music?” She raised a brow, standing her ground even after he’d probably seen her nearly leap out of her skin andhe knew what horrid surprise was waiting for her on the desk. “Do you expect me to dance for you?”

“It’s not a bad idea, if that’s what you’d like to do.” He sounded about as joyful as if he’d been forced to sit for eight hours in horrific traffic. While having to pee.

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