Page 14 of Semi-Reckless

Haven pulled one of her business cards out of her back pocket and handed it to Levi. “Sure,” she said. “Why the fuck not? Give me a call.”

Peace, in her experience, was highly overrated.

Levi’s wolves went back to howling like idiots as she stalked back to the car. She didn’t glance in Roan’s direction, but his seething aura was coloring the air all around her.

She’d managed to successfully fight off a werewolf, got solid intel about her case, earned herself a date with a hot guy, and pissed off Roan.

Maybe her luck was starting to turn around after all.

CHAPTER 8

Roan was steaming as they traveled (on foot because he couldn’t teleport her and they couldn’t drive through the fucking woods) to the mine where the creature had last been seen.

Literally. His skin was smoking he was so pissed off.

Haven, meanwhile, just continued hacking gleefully through the brush with her machete, like she hadn’t a care in the world.

Like she hadn’t agreed to date a fucking werewolf while he was standing right there.

One of the branches she was cutting through snapped back at her. Roan caught it a millimeter before it smacked her nose. He glared at her because he was mad at her, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to get hurt.

She huffed out a sharp breath. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“My pleasure,” he snarked.

“What’s your problem? You smell like a campfire.”

Roan slapped a branch out of his way so hard it snapped. He certainly didn’t need a fucking machete. His rage alone could clear a path through these trees. “I’m fine.”

Haven snorted. “Oh, sure. Because clearly, everyone’s skin smokes when they’re fine.”

“Are you actually going to go on a date with that guy?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Because he challenged you to a fight? Because he’s an alpha-less, directionless, unpredictable werewolf?”

She side-eyed him. “I spent years following you around and you’re a demon from a hell dimension. Do you honestly think anyone would be surprised to find me on a date with a werewolf?”

He sputtered. “That was different. We were friends.”

“We were,” she said quietly.

He felt her use of the past tense like a kick to the nuts. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She whirled on him, and he had to jump back a foot to keep her from whacking him with her machete. “Oh, I’m so far past hurt, you asshole, it’s not even funny.”

He held up his hands in supplication. “Fine. You’re pissed. I get it. But that’s no reason to start dating a werewolf just to spite me.”

Her nose scrunched up in a way he’d seen a million times before. She made that face every time her entrée came with broccoli at restaurants, whenever she smelled hyacinths, and when discussing the ending of the Game of Thrones TV series. She’d just never directed that look of disgust at him before. He couldn’t say he cared for it.

“God, no one could ever say you’re lacking in the ego department, could they? Believe it or not, not everything I do is about you, Roan.”

He knew that. But still…the thought that she might be going out with the werewolf because she wanted to, was painful to think about. He’d much prefer her doing it to make him crazy.

Haven hacked through another branch and paused, machete midair. “I thought the mine entrance was right past this clearing.”

“No. It’s a whole day’s hike past that clearing. I thought you knew that.”

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