“It hurts. What did I do to you? We saved you. Why did you attack me, you crazy bitch?”
River always had a temper. Whatever this beauty was, she was not human. She was less human than the three of us, and we’re wolf shifters.
“I didn’t ask to be helped. Or saved. And who are you calling a bitch? You can’t even follow simple instructions like don’t touch me.” She made a dismissing move toward River. “I had everything under control. I was touching the Burlo, and he would have succumbed to the pain soon. I’m no damsel in distress and damned sure not in need of being saved by anyone.”
“Well, a thank you would have been nice,” River muttered.
“A beer would be nice. Not having you interfere in my business would be fantastic!”
“Bitch,” River muttered under his breath. He said it softly enough for just us werewolves to hear but, if my senses were right, she heard it, too.
“Listen, pretty boy--”
“River,” he corrected her.
“Whatever. I don’t need help. And I don’t need shifters getting in my way and lecturing me. Leave me alone. I’m busy and don’t have time for this.”
River pushed his hair back. The woman got up quickly and was about to walk away. I wasn’t having any of that. I needed to at least know her name. Women swoon over my kid brother. I don’t mind it, but seeing her sass River made me chuckle. I like females with some sass and spark.
I shifted to my human form. Changing forms rapidly was no problem for me. I’ve always been a natural borne Alpha. Maybe that made things a little bit easier for me. I’m not as pleasant on the eyes as River or Drae. They both are handsome. And damn, River is beautiful. Females are usually scared of me.
As I change to my human form, I stand still for a few heartbeats, waiting for her reaction. I never get a good response from women. I’m used to them shrugging back as soon as they see me. Even wolf shifter females who want me because of my power, because I’m an Alpha and my royal blood, turn away in repulsion and refuse to see the real me. I appeared violent and feral to them, and my chest and face were marked by disgusting, deformed scars from the attack that killed my family. Yet, she doesn’t hold her breath or step away. Quite the contrary, she’s calm. Her face is composed. Her eyes move up and down my hard body. She takes in my scars, acknowledging them more than anything else. I like it. I don’t want females to act as if the scars are not there because they are part of who I am. The same scars are on my soul, too, and nothing will ever free myself from them.
I don’t know how I escaped that attack on my family. I’ve had the scars since I was a child, not older than six, and they won’t heal. Three thick scars run over my chest, up on my left cheek, and over my left eye, splitting my eyebrow in two. My mouth is frozen in a permanent frown. It’s one of the reasons why I let my beard grow. I never shave. Unfortunately, I can’t cover the scars that run over my left eye and eyebrow. The ones on my chest are an entirely different story. As a shifter, I don’t have problems with nudity. Nudity and intimacy are two different things. It is what it is. Usually, the scars are what people, shifters and otherwise, see for the first time.
She stands there, watching me watching her. It’s like she sees me in a weird way, and that those two pits of darkness that exist in her beautiful eyes have seen much worse. She can’t be older than twenty-four, twenty-five maybe, but I sense an old soul inside of her.
Her hair is silver and looks like spooned moonlight. I’m tempted to step closer and touch it. River keeps muttering something as he chomps into the Demon. I can’t hear him. My eyes fixate on her. I can’t look away and, to be honest, I don’t want to. She’s so surreal.
“I have the feeling you’re the smart one. Can you smell my glove? As you might have noticed, I need it.”
She takes a few steps to the side. I sense the sweet, sickly smell connected to her glove. I pick it up. It’s under a parked car. Holding the soft, black leather glove with the tip of my thumb and index finger, I offer it to her.
“Here.”
She made a serious effort not to touch me when she took the glove. My nudity doesn’t upset her.
“Thank you.” She grabs the glove with just the hint of a smile.
“I can’t believe it. You know that word,” River mutters in the background.
She pulls the glove over her hand and closes it with a pressure button around her wrist. Leather covers her skin. Only her neck and her face are touched by the light of the moon, turning her ivory skin into pure porcelain. I had a feeling that a silver film covered her. It had to be a trick. It looked as if she was bathed in the light of a goddess. After burning River, I knew she wasn’t human.
The creature smiled. “I’m Silver. Thank you for helping me back there.”
She stretched her fully-gloved hand towards me. My fingers felt sticky with Burlo blood, and I was hesitant to touch her. She probably read my hesitancy the wrong way.
“I won’t burn you. I promise.”
Silver smiled again. This time her smile stretched and touched her deep black eyes. I extended my hand and touched hers. A cool shiver ran through my body. I had a hard time controlling my hard-on. I acted like a pup who saw a pretty girl for the first time.
“I’m Jacks. Can I ask, Silver, how did you end up fighting a Burlo Demon in the parking lot of a biker bar?”
She inhaled sharply while my large hand still held her small one. It felt cool, as if I held the hand of a marble statue.
“Long story, you know. You do this and that, and shit happens.” Silver shrugged and smiled as if fighting a Burlo would have been the most innocent and normal thing to do.
“How about we invite you for a drink and maybe dinner? This place doesn’t look like much, but I know the owner, and he makes a mean stew that’s awesome, if you like meat.”