Page 14 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

“I missed you too.” I say, holding the white box higher, while I try to lock the door and give the dog an appropriate amount of attention.

“Silas?” Emilia asks from the kitchen, “Is that you? It’s been nearly a half an hour. I was about ready to send out a search team.”

“I had the strangest conversation with your neighbor just now. We were talking about sports and then he asked me if I was allergic to tree nuts, to which I said no, then he shoved this white box in my hands.”

“Youlike sports?”

I don’t miss the mocking tone in her voice, but when I look up, my mouth goes dry. Emilia stands just past the thresholdleading into the small kitchen, she has changed out of her baggy t-shirt and yoga pants and into what she calls her work attire.

A low cut black sleeveless top, with a bright red lace bra peeking out underneath. It shows off the generous swell of her breasts and her soft stomach and her dark blue jeans almost look painted on, emphasizing her fuller hips and thighs.

I realize I would give anything to worship every inch of her. This woman has the body of a literal goddess, I should know, I have met one or two in my lifetime. Thanks, Dad.

“I, uh, no. I don’t follow them, but it’s easy enough to fake.”

“You should come to the bar. There’s usually a game on, that way you can form an actual opinion.” She walks over and touches the box, smiling. “Oh, cookies.”

“Is that what these are?”

Emilia takes the box from me, lifting the top, “His daughter Katie bakes them whenever they spend time together.” She grabs one and holds it up to my mouth, “These look like walnut chocolate chip.”

I pluck the cookie out of her hand, “Why are we the ones enjoying them?”

“Because he shouldn’t have the sugar and he loves her too much to refuse.”

Humming to myself, I inspect the baked good before taking a bite. It’s soft and chewy, without being undercooked in the center, a perfect mix of salty and sweet. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I groan, loud enough that Emilia looks at me.

At that moment, Poppy rears up and crashes against the back of her knees, making them buckle. I bite down on the rest of the cookie, freeing my hands up to wrap around her waist as she guards the white box, pressing it against her chest.

“Poppy!” Emilia yelps, her gaze traveling from the dog up to me, a soft smile pulling at her lips as she rights herself. She playfully reaches up and snaps off the excess cookie, poppingit into her mouth. “They’re good, huh? I keep saying that she should sell them.”

Through what I can only assume is a miracle, the cookies remain unharmed, the only casualty is my pulse.

I watch, dumbfounded, as she takes the box into the kitchen. “Yes, she should.”

The little witch doesn’t know how much she riles me up with her gentle teasing. So much so that I can feel my blood boil, the demon side of my heritage stirring beneath my skin. I turn my back to her, willing myself under control. There’s no way of telling how she would react to seeing me in such a state.

My true form emerges when I’m fighting or fucking. There’s no way for her to know, she might mistake it for me going feral and attempt to put me down.

“Hey, Silas?” She asks, her voice so soft that I barely can hear it over the sound of my racing heart.

I continue to take even breaths, until the sensation subsides, “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” I turn to see her watching me, expression soft.

She swallows, and I wonder what it is she sees when she looks at me. It’s clear that she’s not afraid, but why would she be? With the spell tethering us together, as weak as it has proven to be, I am entirely at her mercy.

Even without it, after seeing the fear and vulnerability in her eyes last night, I knew I had to protect her. I would draw blood to keep her safe.

Which is why I should push whatever these feelings are aside. She couldn’t possibly feel the same about me, not with our deal hanging over her head.

“Do you really think I can, you know, help me get my powers back?”

“Yes.” I huff out a breath, “Emilia, what do you think happened?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I always thought that I lost them. I grew into them as a girl and maybe I just grew out of them. It’s all part of getting older.”

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