Page 35 of Forbidden Devotion
The mighty wolf shook thoroughly, tossing his thick mane into place and settling his fur just so. He stretched, then rounded slowly on big silent paws. Sinclair gaped wide-eyed. He must look ridiculous to this regal creature. Speechlessness was becoming his norm.
The large wolf approached. If an animal could look amused, this one did. At least Sinclair hoped that was amusement. The wolf puffed his chest and preened, eager for the open admiration.
A slick, cold nose snuffled Sinclair’s neck, sniffing and huffing as he lay perfectly still, unsure what he was supposed to do. But he didn’t need to do anything. The wolf licked his neck, walked in a circle, and lay down, his back pressed against Sinclair’s stomach.
And that was that.
Flabbergasted, Sinclair couldn’t shake the soul-deep reverence at what he’d witnessed. What an honor. And so close. He felt smitten. Chosen. Mitchel’s imposing wolf form harkened to a Grim from a fairy tale, but his eyes remained his own, kind and protective as they wandered the contours of Sinclair’s face.
Sinclair longed to touch him. Would werewolves liked to be petted? It had never occurred to him to ask, and this information was woefully lacking in his textbooks. He reached out tentatively and stroked the wolf’s flank. Soft fur warmed his palm.
When Mitchel didn’t get up and leave or even stir, Sinclair took that as permission to do it again and over and over until finally he settled down, his arm over the wolf, his nose pressed to the back of his neck.
Together, they slept.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Mitchel
When Mitchel woke,Sinclair still lay sleeping, the press of his warm body curled around his back. The vampire’s breaths came out evenly, steadily, and Mitchel inhaled the lovely, spicy scent of him.
But why had Sinclair returned in the middle of the night? Further still, why had he left in the first place?
Mitchel had arrived back on campus and made the short hike to his cabin in record time. The moment he set foot on the property, he’d smelled Sinclair.
He’d searched for the little vampire and thought to check his favorite spot by the creek. Sure enough, there he'd been, all tucked in on himself.
After shifting to wolf form, his keen sense of smell had heightened further. Sinclair had a sweet scent, like fresh-baked spice cookies, and Mitchel had licked him to see if he’d taste that way too. Miraculously, he had. Mitchel had settled against him, knowing his body heat would keep the smaller man warm as the temperature dipped overnight.
Then an incredible thing had happened. Sinclair had run his fingers through Mitchel’s fur. Long strokes from his shoulder to his rump in a soothing rhythm, tentatively at first, then with confidence. He’d searched for a memory that felt that good and came up short. The arm had stilled, curled around him, and rested heavily on his side.
It was still there now.
The sun would be upon them soon, and he knew Sinclair shouldn’t be in it. So instead of giving in to the urge to let him sleep, Mitchel stirred, hoping that would wake him up.
Sinclair grumbled and yawned. Mitchel pressed his snout into Sinclair’s shoulder and huffed a good morning greeting in his ear.
“Morning,” Sinclair mumbled. The arm across Mitchel’s flank tightened, as though to pull him closer, and fingers curled into his thick fur. Abruptly Sinclair tensed. “Oh god, Mitchel. I’m sorry for coming over here like this. You must think I’m crazy.”
Mitchel got up from where they’d been sleeping and stretched. He was, indeed, curious about that.
“I want to explain. But I’ve never talked to a wolf before. And you can’t talk back, which is weird, but maybe that’s good, actually,” Sinclair rambled. “I mean, you can’t tell me off if you can’t talk. So there’s that.”
Mitchel padded to his robe, looked over his shoulder to make sure Sinclair was watching, and smoothly shifted back into his human form. He took his time slipping into the cotton fabric, tied the belt around his waist, and turned around. Sinclair’s expression had gone soft, his body languid, cheeks flushed.
“Now I can talk back.” Mitchel grinned. “First of all, youarecrazy. Certifiable. Second, I know you were checking out my ass just now.”
The pink flush reddened across Sinclair’s pretty cheeks and spread down the elegant column of his throat, but his features turned serious. “I’m sorry.”
“For checking out my ass?” Mitchel waggled his eyebrows.
“No, I’m not sorry about that. Anyone with eyes would do that. I’m sorry I left without saying good-bye, and for showing up in the middle of the night. Where were you anyway? Oh wait, that’s none of my business. I’m sorry. See? I’m sorry about everything.” Sinclair huffed. “Except your ass.”
“Come inside. The sun will be up soon.” Mitchel leaned down, offering him a hand.
Sinclair took it and followed him into the cabin. “Thanks.”
Mitchel held the door open for him. “To answer your questions, I was called away on an emergency last night. Have you heard? There was a fight between werewolves and vampires in Oak City early yesterday morning. A young werewolf was killed. All the alphas convened to discuss what to do.”
