Instead, she blushes. The sight itself is so rare, I almost lose my composure right here.
She steps closer, lacing her fingers with mine, and my wolf lets out a pleased rumble. Having her hand in mine electrifies every nerve in my body.
As we stand there, on the threshold of the pack house, ready to get this night over with, her grip tightens slightly around my fingers.
I can only smile at that.
I want to hold you all night, baby. You have no idea just how much.
The doors automatically open, and the chatter from the hall greets us like a freight train slamming into our ears over and over. The clinking of glasses, the pompous laughter of some of the most arrogant bastards in this room—all of it comes to a sudden halt when the spotlight falls on me and Lila.
Someone coughs in the silence. Another person grins in the distance. Then, the room erupts in a wave of murmurs.
Wow, look at her dress.
That’s exquisite.
Is that a red beryl on her neck? It is very rare.
Who is she?
My hand tightens around Lila’s waist. I can already feel her discomfort creeping in.
“I’ve got you, wild one. Follow my lead,” I murmur against her neck, her scent consuming me whole.
“Okay,” she breathes.
She doesn’t fight me. She doesn’t push me away. Instead, she melts into my touch like I’m her anchor when, in reality, it’s the other way around.
With Lila by my side and the eyes of the pack scrutinizing our every move, we make the necessary rounds, exchanging pleasantries, shaking hands. Every time I introduce her as my assistant, it feels like I’m swallowing glass.
I see how the men look at her like she’s free game, like she’s unclaimed. Like they could be the ones to change that.
The worst part? She doesn’t even notice.
She’s…fuck, mingling.
“You’ve been his assistant for that long? Damn, you should tell us the secret to making him happy. He’s never happy,” one of the bald guys, probably the one handling the pack’s accounts, jokes.
Lila chuckles, oblivious to his flirting.
I take a sip of my scotch, barely masking the urge to fire him and the other bastard talking to her.
“I know,” Lila teases. “The secret is to do what he says. Never argue.”
I step in behind her, my chest meeting her back, my arms bracketing her in place. Any man with half a brain should read the action and interpret that she’s taken.
Just to make myself clearer, I lean down, my lips ghosting over her ear.
“Never argue, huh?” My voice is an octave too low. “If I said I wanted to bend you over this table, make you moan my name loud enough for them to hear. Would you do as I say and not argue, wild one?”
Lila chokes on her drink, snapping her head up to glare at me.
I grin.
Eyes on me at all times, wild one.
“So, Lila,” the bald guy presses, apparently not getting the message, “apart from being Alaric’s assistant, he at least lets you have a personal life, yeah? Any hobbies? A boyfriend?”