Page 69 of Savage Hope

I search his eyes, waiting for the realization to hit him, but nothing comes.

Nothing.

Not even an iota.

Blinking at Wylder, who I know definitely knows, I find him hiding a grin behind his bear-like hand as he subtly shakes his head at me. I have no idea what he means by that, so I focus my attention back on Lincoln.

I just need to take a deep breath and tell him, blurt it out, and put his confusion to rest. Taking a deep breath, I stand tall, ready to explain, but as I go to take a step toward him, Wylder cuts me off.

With a single wink, he turns to his friend. “If she comes up with anything, she’ll let you know. For now, let me get my fight on,” he grumbles, making Lincoln sigh before he saunters off with a defeated air around him.

I instantly feel bad and move to step around the giant blocking me from his friend’s path, but he stops me once again, this time with his hand locked around my arm. “I can’t bear it any longer,” I rasp as Wylder snickers.

“Please don’t spoil my fun just yet,” he pleads, looking down at me with wide eyes.

“Fun?”

“Yeah. I love him; he’s my brother, my pack, my Alpha, but sometimes he’s…dumb.”

I scrunch my nose, unable to see the need to keep up the charade any longer, especially when it was done unintentionally.

“Don’t pull cute faces at me,” Wylder murmurs, a rasp to his voice that burns through my body as I meet his eyes.

“There’s nothing cute?—”

“I’ll cut your tongue out if you say something mean about yourself,” he interjects, steel in his words as his nostrils flare.

Wow.

Gulping, I shake my head, quickly retracting whatever was about to part my lips. “I wasn’t going to do that,” I murmur feebly, and he rolls his eyes at me.

“Of course, you weren’t.”

His stare is unwavering, leaving me uncomfortable, so I take a step back, thankful when he drops his hold on me. Desperate to get on with the class and change the subject, I clear my throat and point at the ground. “Is it easier if I just lay down on the ground? I may as well get this over with quickly for you since I have no idea what I’m doing,” I admit, and he frowns.

“No idea?” he clarifies, and I shake my head. His eyebrows somehow manage to pinch further as he takes a step toward me.

Without warning, he rears his arm back and swings it toward my face. My eyes pinch closed, bracing for impact, but I don’t move, ready to face whatever he throws at me. It’s only when a few moments pass that I realize nothing has touched me. I pry my eyes open to find a fist right in front of my face.

Why would he swing toward me but not hit me?

Anger vibrates from him, tainting the air between us as the rest of the class falls into the background. My lips part, ready to ask what’s going on, but he beats me to it.

“Rule number one: closing your eyes isn’t going to make the attack stop,” he grunts, and I roll my eyes.

“Obviously,” I mutter, looking down at my feet with embarrassment as he slowly lowers his hand.

“Rule number two: steeling yourself for the pain isn’t the same as bracing yourself for an attack,” he continues, and I peer through my lashes at him, nodding subtly as he proceeds. “Rule number three: I would never—ever—lay a hand on you.”

“I didn’t think?—”

“The flinch says otherwise,” he interjects again, and I sigh.

“In my defense, that’s just instinct,” I ramble, and he scoffs.

“Then I’ll keep doing it until it’s not instinct with me,” he bites, and I feel my cheeks burn bright under his intense stare.

I can’t bring myself to acknowledge his statement, so I clear my throat and try to return the topic back to the class. “So, am I making this easy for you or not?”

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