Page 11 of Vicious Wolf Mate

“Great.”

He steps out the dead bodyguard circle. “We should get rid of these bodies. They’re starting to stink really bad.”

“Contact Hangar at the clan’s headquarters and have him send someone to clean it up.”

“No…leave it,” I hear McKenna say.

Jax and I look at her confused.

She continues. “This could be the framing.”

“Yeah, but it looks like a wolf did it. Obviously they’ll come for us,” I say.

I narrow my eyes. She’s still under my grasp and she’s trying to incriminate us. The audacity she tends to have is both hot and annoying as fuck.

She exasperates and shoves my arm away. I expected her to run away, hence why I immediately crouch to shift. Instead, she crosses her arms as she does, and rolls her eyes at me.

“Big Sky isn’t the only wolf shifter clan out there. What about framing the Sand Rock clan?” she says.

Jax and I are both aghast. I hear him almost choke on his saliva. I turn to him, fearfully. As if the clan can already hear what she suggests. Jax’s eyes almost bulge out while shaking his head.

I explain as calmly as I can. “We can’t do that. Our clans have been at war for almost 20 years. It would only stir up more tensions.”

She scoffs. “Tough, that’s what your ‘captive’ came up with. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Hey, you—”

She waves her hand. “I know, I know. I ‘don’t understand’. Sorry to break it to you both, but there’s nothing much we can work with. Jax didn’t make their deaths look like an accident or like a human did it. Now, what’s the Sand Rock Clan’s telling sign? Their trademark?”

I don’t want to tell her. I just know it’ll be more trouble. But she’s infuriatingly right. The wounds left on the bodyguards are too messy and frankly, ugly.

I look at Jax’s stressed-filled expression. It screams at me to not do it. My mind goes wild trying to do the framing myself. Nothing that actually makes sense comes to mind.

“Three claw marks across the face,” I mutter.

She motions for me to go ahead. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she says.

I sigh, regretting my decision already. I hesitate to do it for a few seconds, but it has to be done. Fuck.

I shift, getting ready to strike down on the first guard.

8

MCKENNA

Iam a witness to pure power. Raw, beastly, primordial heat pushes through ropey muscles upon muscles and produces mane after mane of fur. Every part of Mace's body looks strong and fast, explosive musculature. I am impressed enough to have butterflies in my stomach, which doesn’t happen. Nobody gives me butterflies. I am the one who gives butterflies.

Not today.

Wow.

“There you are,” I tell him, trying my best to be saucy and tough. “Don’t worry one bit. Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I add, knowing full well this is fiction. I have never seen anything so exciting, dangerous, erotic, and beautiful all at once. “If you don’t turn around and face me, I am going to mark you off as a shy guy,” I tease. I need to sound tough so Mace doesn’t take himself too seriously or take this moment too seriously.

My, my he has no idea what a pull I feel toward him right now. This is crazy.

Red Riding Hood said to the wolf who was disguised as Grandma, “My, what big feet you have?” or something similar. I want so badly to use this line but fear it is too close to innuendo, which is not what I am after. I just want to tell him that his beautiful body is the perfect combination of art and primal carnal urges.

Mace doesn’t answer, just stretches and flexes more of that lupine beauty of a thing he calls a body. Damn, I am hooked on this scene.

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