Page 100 of Craved By a Wolf

Hella glanced to her right.

Was stunned as she locked gazes with Kin.

Idiot.

Panic threatened to crush her fear and slay her courage, and she wasn’t sure where to look. She tried to keep her eyes away from him, but failed. His visage was dark as he tracked her, fury mounting in his molten gold eyes, and she worried part of him believed this wedding was her idea.

Even when she knew he might be an idiot, but he wasn’t that much of an idiot.

He could no doubt sense the fear in her and how desperate she was to escape. She turned her cheek to him as she passed him and willed him not to do anything reckless. She made it a handful of steps before she could no longer resist glancing back at him to make sure it really was him and not some figment of her desperate imagination.

His dark eyebrows knitted hard above his glowing golden eyes and his lips turned downwards, flashing a hint of fangs.

And gods, it really was him.

Here in Lucia again to rescue her.

Risking his life for her sake.

If she had needed proof that she had been wrong about him, he had just given it to her without even uttering a word.

When he looked as if he wanted to come to her, she subtly shook her head.

If Ethyrian had closed the borders as promised, then Kin was trapped here, and the moment the nymph realised he was in Lucia, he would be after her wolf’s head. She wasn’t sure what to do. The safest option was sticking to her original plan, but the way Kin’s gaze drilled into her back as she approached Ethyrian said that wasn’t going to happen. Her wolf was a ticking bomb, and sooner rather than later, he was going to explode.

The aisle gave way to the steps of the dais and Ethyrian extended his hand to her.

She needed to come up with a new plan and fast.

Hella tried to figure out what to do as she lifted her arm and reached for Ethyrian.

MacKinnon took it all out of her hands.

On a blood-curdling howl, he came barrelling down the aisle towards her.

Chapter 30

Hella looked stunning. She knocked the wind from his lungs like a punch in the chest—or maybe the heart—as MacKinnon caught sight of her.

Ashy make-up surrounded her eyes, bringing out how green they were, and her lips had been painted a sultry shade of red that made him yearn to kiss her. Her azure hair had been twirled into a high knot and diamonds glittered atop her head and around her throat, and he couldn’t stop his mind from imagining him following the trail of gold to her exposed nape to kiss and lick and tease it until she surrendered and pleaded him to bite her there.

But there was something wrong about her.

And he wasn’t talking about the fear he could feel in her and scent on her as she bravely walked down the aisle towards him.

Towards the bastard nymph king.

It was her dress.

While it was certainly eye-catching and the style suited her, the colour was all wrong. His beautiful witch just didn’t look right in turquoise. In fact, he found it hard to picture her in any colour other than black.

And not because she was a witch and that colour was traditional for them.

Hella bent the rules when it came to witch fashion, chose dresses that were very different from the typical style, but she had never veered away from black for the colour, and Kin knew the reason why. Black made it clear she was a witch. It declared it to everyone who saw her and left them all in no doubt of what she was.

What she was proud of being.

His wee witch didn’t belong in bright colours. She belonged in black. It was part of who she was and he wanted to go to her and vow that he would find her a black dress, that he would place her back in a colour that meant a lot to her.

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