Page 11 of Forbidden Devotion
“Yes, but you’re hot when you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad. I’m tired. And you can do better.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Then by all means, take it as one.” The music ended, and he let her go. “If you’ll excuse me?”
She bowed at the waist rather than curtsy. “Of course. I need a drink anyway.”
And that was another thing they could agree on.
CHAPTERSIX
Sinclair
A commotionon the ground floor startled Sinclair from his reading. He uncurled from his bunk, set the textbook aside, and listened closely.
“—you’re back.”
“Hey, Mitchel—”
“Did you bring us anything?”
“How was the alpha gathering?”
“The screen door’s still broken.”
So the alpha had returned. Mitchel, was it? Was this the man whose scent Sinclair had been picking up since he’d moved in?
No way to find out from his room. He stepped into his boots and crept into the hall on silent feet, then peered downstairs from the balcony.
Half the pack gathered in a rowdy crowd near the front door, blocking the man’s entrance with their enthusiastic greeting. They all talked at once but took turns leaning in, touching his shoulders, his back, his forearms. Noses scented the air around him.
Sinclair shook his head.Wolves.They’d probably sniff each other’s asses if they weren’t in public.
He caught a whiff of the alpha’s scent himself, anddamn, Sinclair was no better than the rest of them. Drawn downstairs, craving that luscious smell, he watched as the crowd parted and the stranger came into view.
Sinclair stopped in his tracks, stunned, breath caught in his throat.
This alpha was asnack.
No, better. A full-course meal.
He stood taller than the others, dark chestnut hair shining in the morning light. It spilled toward—but didn’t quite touch—his broad shoulders, framing a ruggedly attractive face.
He hadn’t shaved. Thick stubble covered his cheeks and part of his neck, over the tender skin where his pulse beat a steady rhythm through his jugular.
Sinclair’s mouth watered. His lips fell open. He’d like to sink his teeth inright there and find out if this alpha tasted as good as he smelled.
Fuck, what am I thinking? He’s a werewolf!
Sinclair snapped his mouth shut and shook himself, but his gaze was drawn back against his will. Desire dulled his senses as he remained frozen in place on the lowest stair, captivated.
The alpha’s presence was like an approaching storm, a static spark before lightning crashed through the sky, electric and hot at once.
The wolf tipped his head up. He caught Sinclair’s gaze and tensed, back going ramrod straight. Bright, intelligent eyes narrowed, glaring like he’d cornered his prey and was a heartbeat away from lunging for the kill.
Panic lanced through Sinclair, urging him to flee.
