Page 89 of Fated to the Wolf Billionaire

I wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t gratifying to see the look of shock on the waiter’s face as I tucked Fiona under my arm and led her out through the moody restaurant.

When we reached the sidewalk, she hesitated. “Can we walk back? I’m a little warm, and I’m loving the lights and just… the bustle. It’s soalive.” She spun freely, and I steadied her with both hands on her hips.

“Anything you want tonight, it’s yours.”

Her smile was brighter than the sun, and every bit as dazzling. We walked down the Strip with our arms threaded around each other’s waists, in no hurry, despite my lingering desire to take her to bed and ravish her. We stopped in a few shops, but she waved away my attempts to buy her designer bags or anything else, except a pair of ballet flats to replace her strappy silver heels.

Many eyes turned, eager to drink their fill of her beauty, but none dared touch—even humans knew to avoid an alpha wolf with his dominance on full display. It was like we walked in our own little bubble, the sea of humanity parting around us like a stream around a rock. For a little while, I forgot about the politics, the drama, the mission. I just enjoyed being in her orbit, watching her joy as she experienced it all.

We were less than a half a mile from our hotel when two things happened at once. The sidewalk ahead was completely blocked—some racing event diverting the traffic, it looked like—and I got the sense of eyes on the back of my neck, as if we were being watched. I scanned the lingering crowd, not sensing anything out of the ordinary, but the feeling of a watcher wouldn’t leave me alone.

My security team was in our car, creeping along with us, but when we went down the side street to avoid the blockage, they would have to divert around.

It was clearly a setup, and I didn’t like it.

“Fiona—I think we need to get back in the car.”

“Aww, but look! There are two showgirls down there. Can we get a picture? They’re the only ones we’ve seen whose costumes match mine. Please? Also, I smell churros.”

The desire to please her, to keep the fun going, warred with my better sense. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting my wolf come to the fore. I didn’t smell anyone but humans; there were no vampires lurking nearby, which meant whatever was prickling at me was probably a relatively harmless human.

“All right. A photo and a churro, and then we’re going back to the room.”

Her scent spiked, arousal heating her skin as she nodded up at me, biting her bottom lip. “I’d like that.”

We wove down the crowded side street, got her picture with the silver-clad girls, and chased the scent of churros another block before we found the vendor.

She was crunching happily as we walked, this part of the city much more subdued, a quiet end to our busy evening. The streets were darker, emptier, and she was humming a happy little tune under her breath between nibbles of her treat.

The crunch of boots on pavement behind us was the only warning I got before the first shot went off.

I spun, pressing Fiona behind me against the brick wall of the nearest building as the bullet whizzed past, barely missing me.

“Get down and don’t move,” I ordered, using my full alpha bark on her for the first time. She immediately obeyed, and I sprinted toward our attacker.

I spotted him immediately, and two things were very clear. He was a human, and a hunter.

Which meant that gun was likely loaded with silver wolfsbane bullets, and if I fucked up and let him hit me, I’d be in trouble. Trouble I did not need on vampire turf.

His aim was steady and his eyes were cold as he fired the second time, and I was forced to dodge, scraping my palms on the brick wall. I needed to avoid shifting, because even in a place where the booze flowed as freely as Vegas, a wolf would stand out like a sore thumb and raise questions. Stoners and drunks were unreliable witnesses, but raising waves about wolves running the streets in highly populated areas was bad for shifters everywhere.

The hunter didn’t get off a third shot before my hand was around his throat. I shoved him against the building, breaking his wrist with the force it took to get him to drop the gun.

“Who sent you? Was it Carmine?”

The man bared his teeth, shockingly brave for a human who knew what had hold of him.

“I don’t need to be sent to hunt evil, and you’re evil. It’s not natural to have two forms. It’s a crime against nature!”

A zealot, perfect. They tended to run in packs, which meant at least one or two of his buddies would still be in the city.

I smacked him against the wall again, not hard enough to kill him, just to leave him unconscious. He crumpled in my grip, and I let him drop to the street like a sack of bricks. I couldn’t kill a human without risking exposure, but I could strip him of his weapons and leave him for someone else to deal with.

Fucker tried to kill us while we were minding our own business—I didn’t care if he got a few bumps and bruises. That wrist would ensure he wouldn’t be coming after us again on this trip, at least.

I quickly went through his pockets, stripping him of his wallet—let the human police think it was a mugging and him a raving lunatic for claiming he was attacked by a wolf—and an impressive array of doctored bullets.

With that done, I turned back to Fiona, who was standing right where I’d left her, all the color drained from her cheeks as she watched me.

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