Page 12 of Claimed By the Feral Wolves

This time, my heart is in my throat again, but for a different reason. Cayson and Ezra are standing in the doorway, both of them in their robes and pajamas. Ezra has on a black shirt and gray sweatpants, and Cayson has on blue checkered pants and a white shirt. Both are wearing robes and looking incredibly handsome in a way I wouldn’t have expected.

Since when do men look so hot in pajamas?

As I stare at them, Ezra holds out a board game, and Cayson lifts two bottles of wine, a devilish grin on his face. I blink, not sure what I’m looking at.What in the hell are they doing?

“Don’t thank the gods, baby,” Cayson says, sauntering past me into the room. “Thank us.”

Damn shifter hearing.

“Well,” Ezra amends, “thank The Selection, I suppose.”

“I’m not thanking the gods that you’re here,” I say, turning toward them and rolling my eyes. When I notice Cayson’s gaze heating, his eyes sweeping up and down my form in my skimpy pajamas, I tug my robe shut and wrap my arms around myself. “I’m thanking the gods that it’s not Kurt at the door.”

It’s strange. It kind of feels good that Cayson’s looking at me the way he is. It makes me feel attractive. Like maybe he sees me differently than he sees the other women who are always falling over themselves to get his attention. But looking at him also reminds me of the kiss from earlier, the way he had buried his face in my neck, taking a long, deep breath like he’d been suffocating up to that point. Though his hands were only on my back and neck, it felt like he was touching me everywhere, cradling me, holding me in exactly the way I wanted without me having to ask.

My skin is still crawling with heat from the experience, but I try to shake the feeling away. The last thing I need is to lose my faculties and show Cayson any of my confusing feelings. This whole thing is a show. They’ve both made that clear, and I’m not about to forget that I don’t want an alpha either.

Realizing the door is still open, I move to shut it, but the latch doesn’t catch. Instead, the door flies open, hurling me backward into the room. Ezra moves forward at the last second, catching me before I can fall, keeping me from sprawling out over the floor.

The door finishes swinging open and Kurt steps inside, a scowl firmly on his face. He’s in nothing but white boxers that do absolutely nothing to hide the outline of his erection. Just the sight of it makes me want to vomit, so I turn my gaze upward.

The guard appears at his side, an apology on his face, as he puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, as if to haul him out. “I–”

“Do better,” Ezra snaps.

“But we’ll handle this,” Cayson adds.

The guard nods and steps back out of sight.

At the look on Ezra’s face, I remember that he was here the last time Kurt was in my room. From the fury that lingers there, I’d wager he hasn’t forgotten what Kurt attempted that night either.

This isn’t going to end well, no matter who makes the first move.

Ezra lifts me into his arms and starts across the room, his movements measured. I can feel the tension singing through his tight muscles as he gently puts me down on the bed, standing beside me like a sentry.

“Hey man,” Cayson says, his tone joking but his body language lethal. “How the hell did you get over the threshold? Thought guys like you had to be invited in?”

Kurt sneers at him. “That’s very funny, Pack Steel. Good thing you’re good at telling jokes. When your pack folds, you can come be my court jester.”

“Ifmy pack folds,” Cayson says, that jaunty look still on his face, even as he steps closer to Kurt, crowding him. “I’ll give your daddy a whole lap dance. He’d like that, wouldn’t he?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Kurt growls, raising his fists, but Ezra moves over to stand just beside Cayson.

“Hey, Kurt,” Ezra says, something dangerous in his voice, “you should try knocking.”

“You should try includingallthe alphas who are supposed to be included,” Kurt says, his eyes tracking over Ezra’s shoulder to me.

I’m trying to be strong, to muster the same gusto I had at the fashion show, but the memory of the last time he attacked me in my room is too fresh. I can’t stop thinking of the bruises that just barely shifted from black to greenish-yellow around my neck, how easy it was for him to hurt me.

How easy it was for him to take my brother from me.

“Don’t look at her,” Ezra says, shifting and cutting off Kurt’s line of sight to me. “You’re talking to Cayson and me, isn’t that right?”

“That’s right,” Cayson says, the teasing note dropping from his voice, “and unfortunately, it doesn’t look like you’re on the list for tonight’s activities.”

“Yeah,” Ezra says, glancing over his shoulder as though he’s assessing the area. “It’s a little crowded in here right now. Maybe come back next year?”

“Fuck you guys,” Kurt says, trying to push forward, but he couldn’t take Ezra, let alone both of them, if he tried his hardest.

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