Page 91 of Wolf's Reckoning
Adair leaned in. “For what it’s worth,” she murmured, “you got them talking. The pack was starting to wonder if the mating was just for politics. Now?”
“Now they think I threw myself at him in the forest?” I hissed at her.
“They think it’sreal.” She looked me over, a small smile on her face. “And, Rowen? Most of them are happy about it. Look how quick he is to defend you; they love him for it.”
I stood frozen for too long. Up ahead, Wolfe walked into view a second later, licking his fingers like they were his favorite candy. I felt everything gostill.
He didn’t look at me, but the heat that bloomed low in my gut at the sight of him was completely, utterlyinappropriate. Because the entire pack was watching like we were the headlining act in their favorite drama.
And me?
I’d been caught kissing the hero of the show—only to me, he was the villain.
Chapter 22
Wolfe
She slammedthe front door behind her like she meant to break something with it.
Honestly? I almost wished she had. Would’ve saved us both a conversation.
I leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, heart still pounding from the feel of her in my arms in the trees, the taste of her on my tongue. Every shifter in the Hollow now believed this marriage had teeth—and Rowen? Seemed like she just figured it out, and she waslivid.
I watched her, the smirk playing about my mouth as her glare narrowed in on me with laser focus.
There she was—this was the girl I remembered. The one with fire in her belly and rage in her soul. She needed to stop pretending she could lead this pack with polite nods and strategic silences.
Unrest didn’t wait for consensus. Neither did I.
She stood there in the hall, furious, wrapped in a too-thin tank and loose drawstring pants that clung to her hipslike temptation carved in cotton. Her scent hit me first—sharper now, laced with something raw and resentful.
“Youscentedme,” she said flatly.
I said nothing.
“You—” She took a single step forward. “Just now. In the forest. Youscented me. Youmarkedme like you had therightto.”
Still, I didn’t speak. Because yes. I had. Not with teeth. Not with blood. But with instinct. Because it wasn’tjustabout dominance, it wasneed.
“Say it,” she hissed, stepping closer. “Say that this isn’t all some twisted ploy to get me into your bed.”
My nostrils flared. “You’re not in my bed. Yet.”
Her chin lifted. “Never.”
I moved. Fast enough that her breath caught as I crowded her back against the wall. I didn’t touch her.
“I didn’t scent you to manipulate you, princess.” My voice was low. Dangerous. “I scented you because every shifter in that hall had eyes on you, and my wolf wanted to rip half their throats out.”
“Are you serious?” Her eyes narrowed. “So this is about jealousy?”
“No,” I said, stepping even closer, “I told you, this is aboutclaim.”
Her breath stuttered. I caught the flicker of heat behind her glare. And I hated how much I wanted to chase it.
She shoved me. Hard. Not enough to move me—but enough to make her feel in control. I gave her the space she craved. She walked away from me, crossing to the far end of the living space, arms folded tight.
“I was right, this is a game to you.”
