Page 17 of The Wolf's Bullied Pregnant Mate
“Rum?” Sweeney echoed as the bartender started making my drink. “Nice.”
“It's my night off,” I laughed. “I have to live a little, right?”
“Cheers to that,” Hector muttered, raising his own glass.
The two of them drank deeply. I tossed my hair back as I swept my gaze around the room. Zephyr was lingering by the windows, talking to Alex now. The exchange looked heated, and even Harper stepped in. Zephyr’s and Harper’s eyes cut to me. I turned away sharply.
“Your drink,” the bartender announced, placing it down.
“Thanks,” I muttered. All I could think about were fingers on my throat, tightening, tightening. A wolf pursuing me through the night, blood dripping down from his maw. I shuddered. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew how close I had brushed death that night, pinned beneath Zephyr. I despised him—he thought he was the only one capable of hatred, but no.No. I had that right, too, and mine burned fiercely.
I downed half my drink, feeling the effects start to softly seep into me almost immediately.
“Steady there,” Sweeney warned. I glared at him.
“I don’t need looking out for, thanks,” I snapped. “Especially from a shifter.”
“Hey, don’t hate the species because you hate one man,” he countered.
“Whatever,” I muttered, finishing my drink, before walking away from the bar. I wanted to dance—I wanted to dance with Harper. I waited until Alex pulled Zephyr aside so I could slink over to my best friend and looped my arm through hers.
Together, we danced across the floor, giggling and laughing, and it was just like old times. No shifter trying to kill me, no enemies, no worries. Just Harper and me. She’d gotten her happy ending. Where was mine?
***
The hallway was dimly lit by the time I stumbled in search of the garden for some fresh air. Golden mood lighting was thrown across the narrow, long space, and I stumbled between the two walls. One rum had turned into two, and while I still had my wits about me, my coordination had completely left.
It wasn’t until a body brushed up against me that I cursed my stumbling feet.
“Hey—watch it,” I called out. But as I turned, arms encased me. A scent rose in the air—like a fragrance that mixed black vanilla with smoke—and I let out a soft sound at how good the smell was. I turned against the body, tipping my head back to smile—
—Up at Zephyr.
“Oh,” I muttered. “Oh, no, not you.”
In the dim light, I saw his eyes harden. “Were you expecting another man to follow you into the hallway?”
I shook my head. “No, but I didn’t expectyouto, either.”
He let out a harsh sound that was almost a laugh. “Yeah, me neither.” He smelled like he’d been drinking whisky, and I wondered how it might taste on his tongue.
“How drunk are you right now to even be enduring a conversation with me?” I mumbled.
“I’ve only had two,” he answered. “Whisky hits me hard, but notthathard.”
“Then why aren’t you being shitty?” I asked. “You’re always shitty to me.”
I tried to push him away, my hands batting his completely solid chest, and—Adalyn, why are you thinking about how solid his chest is?
“Hey,” I said before he could answer. “I heard you’rehonor-boundto make sure I don’t die by your hand.” I laughed. “I bet that’s tearing you up, Zephyr.”
His jaw tightened. His hair was mostly slicked back but the ends were curling into those vivid green eyes.You’re almost handsome¸ I thought, biting my tongue so the words didn’t leave my mouth.If your words weren’t so ugly, I might find you attractive.
“It isn’t,” he answered.
I sniggered. “Let’s not pretend like you didn’t try to kill me a few days ago.”
His eyes flickered past me, upwards, as if to steel himself. “Adalyn, your zipper on the back of your dress is down a little. I wanted to tell you.”
