Page 9 of Fae Devoted
Samuel wrapped an arm across the front of his tiny mate’s shoulders and pulled her against his broad torso. She sighed and capitulated, hanging both hands on the rock-solid forearm pressing on her collarbone. “It’s the electric mixer I noticed you admiring online.”
“Oh, Abby, you shouldn’t have.” Johnnie refrained from bouncing on her toes, but it was a near thing.
“It’s from Samuel too.” She smiled tiredly. “But he’s expecting an increased quota of the treats you bring to the Guard’s lounge on Fridays. I just want more cookies.”
“Which kind?”
Abby’s fatigue faded for a moment, her expression brightening. “Anything chocolate.”
“Done.” It was too expensive a gift, but she loved it. Johnnie considered opening a bakery shop before finding her true calling. She adored baking for others, but it was more of an enjoyable way to work off her seemingly boundless energy—along with a good long run. “What color is it?”
“Red, but you can return—”
“No, that’s perfect, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her jaw stretched in a wide yawn.
“Time to go home.” Samuel swept Abby off her feet.
“I can walk,” she replied, indignant.
“I know.” He kissed her on the forehead, hitching her higher.
“Stubborn Ferwyn,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes at Johnnie.
“Happy Majority, pack sister.” Samuel carried his Ca’anam down the stairs, and Abby waved goodbye over his shoulder, fighting another yawn.
“Thank you, Alpha,” Johnnie called with less enthusiasm than planned, throat thick witnessing the happy couple make their way to the exit.
She wanted what they had more than anything. Yearned for the connection only truemates shared. But Johnnie didn’t want it with any male, she wanted it with Jacob. Unfortunately, he wasn’t cooperating.
Stubborn Ferwyn indeed.
Chapter 3
Tucker watched Jofrom across the crowded club as she moved to the music on the dance floor. Penny Doyle wiggled and whirled alongside her, the human unwisely flirting with a vampire who kept licking his lips.
Vampires had one use for unturned humanity—food. It was an unpleasant truth the Dádhe didn’t share with the Untouched masses, at least not until the human was under an ironclad two-year Feeder’s contract that legally ensured their discretion. Those eager volunteers who provided sustenance in the interim received the romanticized version of the blood exchange, a vampire’s seductive magic manipulating a human’s emotions and leaving the impression of a far more intimate encounter. The altered experience perpetuated the myth that the Untouched were more than just a warm meal.
Guard Tohopka Blackwater loomed on the outskirts of the writhing mob. Hop’s legs were braced apart, and his arms were folded as he scowled at the Dádhe hankering after his charge’s carotid.
The Ferwyn warrior was assigned to Penny’s protection team after the Elven Lord’s non-magical descendant, Derek Cull, used the boisterous human to kidnap Samuel’s mate. Cull hadn’t been seen since Abby’s dramatic rescue a little over a month ago, but they weren’t taking any chances with her friend’s life until the bastard was found.
Penny shimmied closer to Jo and shouted in her ear. She tilted her chin toward the glowering guard, and the pair burst into laughter. The pounding music, distance, and rubberearplugs every hearing sensitive Fae Touched wore at loud gatherings dampened the cheerful sound.
Tucker didn’t need to hear it. Jo’s honeyed tones were imprinted in his memory for all time.
His primal side knew the beautiful she-wolf was his on the day they met. Every moment spent with Jo since cemented the belief, but he held back because she hadn’t yet reached her majority.
A male’s wolf wouldn’t allow the third and final claiming Mark untilbothmates were fully mature, even if the secondary bite proved their compatibility as truemates. Tucker refused to put Jo through the physical and emotional pain resulting from a Mating Dance placed in prolonged stasis if her she-wolf wasn’t ready—no matter how much he wanted her. But he’d thought the interminable wait was over. He was wrong.
Jo raised her arms, hips swaying to the rhythmic beat. Her hazel eyes closed, oblivious to the heated interest of several unmated Ferwyn males in the club.
Tucker made a conscious effort to unlock his jaw.
“You’re doing it again.” James Reed took a sip from his bottled beer, his free hand dangling over his truemate Sarah’s shoulder.
Grinding his molars, Tucker ignored his friend and focused on the shifter ogling Jo’s ass.
