Page 27 of Season of the Wolf

As it was fated from the beginning, as it was decided before we were even born, our two souls were finally as they should have always been.

… They were one.

Chapter Eight

Liam

It took effort not to laugh as she fussed over me, pressing a wet rag to the gash on my lip. In the heat of the moment, she lost herself, and a kiss turned into a bite.

She saw it as an injury.

I saw it as a compliment.

“This is so embarrassing,” she huffed, completely unaware of her perfection as moonlight outlined her delicate features.

She dabbed the spot again, using her other hand to hold a white sheet in place over her chest. Modesty seemed like a moot point, considering what we’d just done, but I suppose she had her reasons.

To her, this experience between us was new.

Every few seconds or so, as she nursed my wound, I’d catch her gaze wandering to my chest, my stomach, and then lower before her eyes would flit back toward mine. I wasn’t bothered by it. If I had been, I would’ve put on clothes, but it felt unnecessary. I had nothing to hide from her, and soon she’d come to the same realization.

I let her tend to me with the cloth a while longer before looping her wrist with my fingers, halting her when I smiled.

“Evangeline … I’m fine,” I promised with a laugh. “You didn’t break me.”

She nodded as her eyes shimmered in the silvery-blue light, smiling as I reassured her with a kiss.

I turned onto my side, keeping her close. The motion exposed my back to the air, and the broken skin where her nails left lengthy tracks stung a bit. Those would heal, too, but the pain had been worth it.

Her curls were wild, covering the pillow and my arm where she laid her head. In this state, she was at her most natural, the way I remembered. The sheet formed to her figure, leaving little to the imagination. Admiring every inch, every tempting curve, I counted myself a lucky man. There had never been a more beautiful woman. Not ineitherof her lifetimes.

Her long, slender fingers tangled with mine as she gazed thoughtfully toward the ceiling. I didn’t miss the hint of a satisfied smile set on her lips—one my ego wouldn’t let menottake credit for.

“I hope we weren’t too loud,” she grinned. “Well, I hopeIwasn’t,” she corrected.

Bringing the back of her hand to my lips, I placed a kiss there. “So what if you were?”

The statement made her laugh and I brought it out even more when my kisses trailed up her arm.

“Stop!” she protested, not meaning it for a second. “Keep it up and Hilda’s gonna be at your door.”

I shrugged, mumbling my response against her skin. “Maybe she already is.”

A playful slap to the shoulder wasn’t truly meant to scold me. “Don’t be gross.”

I didn’t respond because I’d gotten caught up in her all over again as I tasted her neck. Her body went still at the feel of it, like the contact left her helpless.

My appetite for her had always been insatiable and we might have spentanothertwo hours holed up in my room had it not been for the commotion downstairs. My eyes were immediately drawn toward my bedroom door. Just beyond it, an otherworldly shriek forced us to abandon the bit of fantasy we managed to create, being flung violently toward reality.

“What was that?” Evangeline’s voice trembled when she asked, fumbling to pull on her clothes as I searched for my own.

“Not sure, but I need you to stay here.”

The request made her pause, as if the racket downstairs had stopped altogether, while it had, in fact, begun to sound more like a war zone—a cacophony of bumps and bangs, glass breaking.

“Liam … if anything,youshouldn’t go down there,” she reasoned. The worry in her voice was hard to miss.

She didn’t speak it aloud, but I was positive I seemed more fragile to her now than any other moment since I awakened.

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