Page 15 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Writer

Our bodies collided with a clash of snarls, teeth flashing in the dim light.Between the three of us, Rafe’s wolf was the smallest, but he was spry.Worst of all, he was vicious, but Ariel’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Left side!”Ariel’s shout cut through the rush of blood.“He’s favoring it!”

My eyes snapped to Rafe’s stance.A barely perceptible limp.Dean’s handiwork from their last clash, I suspected.Clever girl, I thought before I lunged for the weakness.

Every snap of my jaws and swipe of my claws was a message.Dean should have killed him, and if Rafe didn’t back off, I was going to finish the job.

I clamped my teeth into the scruff of his neck, the taste of his blood flooding my mouth as I slammed him into the pavement.He yelped, thrashing, but I held him there, my growl vibrating through both of us.His whimpers tasted better than whiskey.

Ariel’s voice cut through the haze of battle.“Sterling!”

I didn’t let go.Not until Rafe’s body went limp beneath me.His whimper of submission was music to my ears.Only then did I release him, shifting back in a rush of heat that left me panting.

Rafe staggered to his feet, human again, as he clutched his bleeding shoulder.His eyes burned with humiliation.“This isn’t over,” he spat.

“It is for you,” I snarled.“Tell Violet her favorite attack dog just lost his fangs.”

He bared his teeth, human and weak, before limping into the shadows.

Rafe’s blood still coated my tongue.I spat onto the pavement, my hands shaking, not from the fight, but from the way Ariel was staring at me.

Her lips parted, sucking in shallow breaths as her chest rose and fell too fast.

This is when she runs.

But then she stepped forward.Her hands trembled as she brushed the gash on my shoulder.Her touch was light as a feather, but it burned hotter than the wound.“You’re hurt.”

I flinched.“It’ll heal.”

“I know.”Her thumb traced the edge of an old scar just above my collarbone.A childhood relic of one of Violet’s lessons.

Her gaze held mine.There was no revulsion in her eyes, only concern.My throat tightened.

I caught her wrist.“I’m fine.”My voice cracked.“You saw what I am.What I can do.”

She shook her head.“I’ve never seen anything like that,” she whispered.“You were incredible.”

I reached for her, pulling her into my arms.She fit perfectly against me, her warmth a balm for the wounded parts of my soul.“You’re going to be the death of me, Hayes.”

She laughed softly.Her breath tickled my chest in warm puffs.“Or maybe the reason you start living.”

I held her tighter, my heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with her.

Chapter 6

ARIEL

Sterling perched on the edge of the couch, with his shirt unbuttoned and in a puddle around his torso.The gash on his shoulder ran down half of his back.I knelt beside him and rummaged through the first aid kit on the table.Gauze, scissors, tape.The antiseptic bottle clinked as I grabbed it.With trembling hands, I dabbed some on the open wound.

When I pressed the soaked cotton to his torn flesh, his whole body tensed.The damp cotton came away crimson.My stomach twisted.He didn’t flinch, but the rigid line of his shoulders screamed louder than any curse.This wasn’t just pain.This was pride.

“I know it stings.Sorry,” I murmured.

“Don’t be.”Brown eyes meeting mine.“I’ve had worse.”

I didn’t doubt it.The scars that mapped his chest and back told stories I wasn’t ready to read.But the fresh wound that I watched him take while protecting me was different.It was mine to tend to.

I finished cleaning the cut and reached for the bandages.My hands were still shaking, but I forced myself to focus.“You’re lucky it’s not deeper.”

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