Page 46 of Challenged Mate
I succeeded, only to feel another painful throb rip through my gut. I gasped and turned on my side, curling into a tight ball.
But the pain didn’t abate.
If I weren’t a shifter, I’d think I was sick. But it was nearly impossible for our kind to get sick. Only the very young or elderly were susceptible to illness.
At least, that’s what I thought. My current state contradicted that belief.
Sweat broke over my brow. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was debating whether to get help when I heard the apartment door bust open with a loudcrack.The lock clattered to the floor.
I bolded upright but immediately cried out and collapsed back down.
Shit!
I reached for my phone only to remember I didn’t have it. The bedroom door flew open before I could come up with a backup plan.
A gasp escaped my lips. Once again, I bolted upright. This time, I managed to stay up. I inhaled a deep breath, prepared to scream my lungs out, when the intruder growled, “Where is he?”
Recognition jolted through me, eliciting a different sort of feeling in my core.
“Asher?” My heart squeezed tight as I soaked in his moonlit figure in the doorframe. I’d forgotten to close the curtains before stumbling into bed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He stepped forward. The moonlight fell on his face. A short beard covered his jawline, and his clothes looked like they’d been rolled into a ball before he decided to put them on.
A strand of hair hung over his left eye. I itched to reach out and push it aside.
“Where is he?” Asher growled again.
“Where is who?”
“Stanley. This place reeks of him.”
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. Was this another dream, or was Asher really standing in front of me?
“Stanley isn’t here,” I finally replied, not knowing what else to say.
“Then why do you reek of him?” Asher took another step. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I finally saw the barely contained fury burning in his gaze. His irises pulsed, flickering between his and his wolf’s.
My mind, still muddled by sleep, struggled to figure out what the hell he was talking about. Long seconds passed before I realized what bothered Asher. Or, more specifically, what bothered his wolf.
I glanced at the discarded dress I’d worn at the club. Asher followed my gaze. His nostrils flared as he prowled over and picked up the dress. He sniffed it once, then released an angry snarl. He grabbed it with both hands and ripped it in two.
“Hey!” I scrambled out of the bed, rage filling me with enough adrenaline to ignore the pain still tugging my stomach. “What the hell? That was Kayla’s!”
Asher acted like he didn’t hear me. “That’s not the only source of his scent.” Wild eyes scanned the room, his nostrils still flaring. Then, his gaze landed on me. His irises pulsed.
I stiffened.
I didn’t get home until two in the morning. I’d been so tired; I skipped a shower.
I planned to clean up in the morning and throw the bedding in the wash, but when I saw how Asher seethed as he inhaled my scent, I wished I’d taken the ten minutes to wash away the night before collapsing into bed.
Asher prowled closer.
I threw my arms in front of me. “Asher! Stop. You’re overreacting.”
He continued his approach. “The hell I am.”
My pulse spiked, but I held my ground. I didn’t know if I was scared, or thrilled, by his dominating behavior.
