Page 19 of Echo Of A Wolf

Nothing about this situation made sense.

My raven ruffled her feathers and nudged me. She wanted me to get to my feet and follow him inside, but she also seemed to be telling me I was stupid for not seeing who he was sooner.

I pulled in a deep breath and got to my feet.

Stepping inside Dean’s house, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for support. My legs felt like wet noodles, and my chest felt as though heavy rocks had been stacked against it. Dean was in the kitchen to the left of the living room. He stood at the sink with his back to me, filling a glass of water from the tap. I stared at him, realizing for the first time tonight that he was naked.

How had I never noticed the man was built like a Greek god?

When he spun around to face me, the edge of the counter wasn’t high enough to cover his private bits completely, and everything was on full display.

Everything.

He might as well have placed it all on a platter right in front of me. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. The man had a beautiful body.

“There,” he said, his voice still gruff and tense. “Some water.”

He set the glass on the bar and nodded to it. The area between his brows bunched together, and he placed his hands on his hips.

What was he thinking? Was he freaking out internally now that he’d learned I was his mate?

“Drink it,” he demanded.

I crossed through the living room, heading straight for the glass. Picking it up, I took a sip. The cool water slid down my throat, bringing me back to my body and severing me from the disconnected sensation I’d felt during the peak of my panic attack. There was still a slight amount of pressure in my chest and my breathing remained shallow, but since stepping inside, I’d felt things fade. Being here made my raven feel safe. Relaxed, even.

I knew it was because of him.

Dean folded his arms over his solid chest, his gaze still intense. “Take another sip,” he ordered, so I lifted the glass and did as he said. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” I admitted.

“Good. Now tell me what the fuck happened back there. Why did Xander attack you? And what were you two doing here in the first place?” His voice was rough around the edges, but an undercurrent of concern warmed his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

It caught me off guard, causing me to blurt out the first thing that came to mind: “I can’t talk to you until you put on some clothes.”

His nakedness was all I could focus on. It made me feel hot and flustered even more than the panic attack had.

Frowning, he started down the hall. “Start talking. I can hear you fine,” he called out from over his shoulder.

Right—wolf shifter hearing.

Where should I even start, though?

I took another sip of water and tried to gather my thoughts. “I told you before that Xander was different, that there was something cold and dark about him now, but you either didn’t care or didn’t believe me.”

“Both,” he shouted from where he was in the back room.

I frowned. Well, at least he was honest.

“I know Xander better than anyone. He’s my brother,” I said, pushing forward.

“If I hadn’t already known that about you two, I would find it hard to believe after watching him try to kill you in my yard,” he countered.

“Like I said, he’s different—off.” I took another sip of water. “Lucius changed him.”

Was there a possibility Lucius was still changing him, even from the grave?

Xander isn’t here anymore.

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