Page 54 of Craved By a Wolf

She heaved another long sigh. “I know, Fenix. It’s just… things are complicated. Now drink up before it spoils.”

What had she made the incubus? MacKinnon found he really wanted to know the answer to that question, enough that he was tempted to bang on the floor with his boot to get her attention. Witches didn’t have strong senses. Hella probably didn’t know he was awake and listening.

She proved that by saying, “Like it? It’s pure, unfiltered passion. I distilled it myself.”

Passion. Distilled by herself. Meaning either she had been in the presence of people making love while she used the spell or she had been the one bedding someone else and profiting off it.

Either way, Kin didn’t like it.

He had thought her a lusty one before, but he was learning new things about her and he was beginning to wish the spell had kept him asleep for longer. He breathed hard, trying to quell his turbulent mind as it filled with images of Hella with other males, giggling and moaning, savouring their attention while she rejected his.

“So you broke up with the nymph.” Fenix’s voice lured Kin back to the room, had him purging the vision of Hella with other males from his mind and focusing back on her again.

Because he wanted to know more about her and the nymph.

“And he wants me back. Let’s leave it at that.” Her tone said to let it go.

Kin willed the incubus to not do it.

“So who’s warming your bed these days then?” Fenix moved on his senses, most likely to the other side of the bench.

Hella remained where she was, barely moving. He heard glass clinking and smelled machine oil. What was she doing?

She kicked Kin’s rage into the stratosphere as she said, “It’s not a single who. I’ve decided to dabble in everything the town has to offer. I’ve even been mixing my flavours.”

A red haze descended and Kin’s fangs lengthened, his claws punching from his fingertips as the urge to shift came over him. He growled low and wrestled with his bonds, his mind filling with the faces of males he had seen around town. How many of them had Hella welcomed into her bed? How many times had she invited more than one at once?

He twisted his wrists in the cuffs, not caring that the metal cut into them. He would risk losing his hands if it meant he was free and could hunt down every male Hella had slept with and end them. She was his.

His beautiful, blue-haired lass.

Kin lost himself in a fantasy of cutting through the males in his wolf form, killing every single one in the fae town while Hella watched. Her green eyes were luminous and wide, filled not with horror but adoration when he returned to her. She slowly morphed into the Hella who had been in his dreams, the one who waited for him at the cottage door, beckoning him with a warm but sultry look.

The scent of his own blood joined the different smells in the air, overpowering them, and he kept fighting his bonds. Not because he wanted to go on a rampage.

But because he wanted to reach Hella.

He wanted to go to her and have her look at him as she had in his dream.

He wanted her to accept him.

To love him.

“Here. Leaf through these while I finish these pills for you.” The sound of her sweet voice teased his ears, drawing him back to the world.

To her.

“The ones in England and America sound most promising,” she said, and his mind latched onto the thought that she intended to travel with this male, was going to leave him and be with the incubus.

She was going to leave him chained and without her.

And gods, he probably deserved it, but he couldn’t allow it. She was vulnerable without him. In danger. He needed to protect her. He needed to stay by her side until the threat to her was over and the nymph was no more.

And she needed to break this curse for him.

So, she couldn’t go with someone else and help them.

He needed her.

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