Page 47 of Forbidden Devotion
Sinclair pressed into the touch. “Me too.”
“Ugh, we can still hear you.” Nathan’s voice this time from the top of the stairs.
Sinclair busied himself with the pancake mix and milk, whipping them together while cursing preternatural hearing. It’d been so long since he’d flirted with anyone, and flirting with Mitchel was fun. If only they had some time alone.
A loud ruckus of footsteps thundered from the stairs.
“I smell bacon!” Charlie yelled.
“Me too!” Eleanor squealed as they rounded the corner. “And eggs. Oh and are those pancakes?”
“I’m starved.” Nathan grabbed plates and set the table.
Eleanor peered over Sinclair’s shoulder as if watching the pancake would make it cook faster. Her stomach rumbled loud enough they all heard it. “You kept up really great last night. Had no idea you were that fast.”
“Thanks, but I know you guys had to slow down for me to keep up.”
She shrugged this off. “That doesn’t matter as long as you had fun.”
“So much fun. I had a great time.”
“I’ll bet you did.” Charlie smirked, his gaze aimed squarely at Sinclair’s neck. “Looks like the beginnings of a claiming bite right there.”
Claiming bite?A prickle of nerves bristled the hairs on Sinclair’s nape. He’d forgotten to cover the bite marks. It was one thing for Eleanor to know, but it was quite another for the whole pack to find out. He and Mitchel hadn’t talked about it, and he didn’t know if Mitchel wanted to keep it secret. He didn’t have to worry for long.
Mitchel pointed to Charlie with the tip of a spatula. “You bet your tail that’s the beginning, but keep it to yourselves for now. Sinclair and I deserve some time, and I want Ramsey to hear it straight from me.”
Questions danced on the tip of his tongue, but Sinclair held them back. He’d thought the bite was just…a bite. Not the beginning of something important.
“Won’t say a word.” Charlie flopped into a chair as the others took their seats at the table.
Very little information on werewolves’ claiming bites was available to the general public. What did it mean?
The only thing Sinclair knew was how it had felt. Like liquid fire at his throat, hot and unyielding, raising in him a desire for more.
“I think it’s sweet.” Eleanor grabbed the first plate and filled it with eggs, bacon, and a generous helping of pancakes.
“You would,” Charlie said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eleanor growled.
“Guys, stop it,” Mitchel ordered, and the bickering was immediately silenced. That kind of power must be neat. “Sinclair and I have to talk about the claiming bite together, and then I need to tell Ramsey. Until then, I’m asking you to drop it.”
They nodded in unison and turned their attention to the food, scooping up giant helpings as fast as Mitchel and Sinclair could cook them. Sinclair focused on the pancakes, one fried golden beauty at a time. He wouldn’t get caught up in his thoughts. Mitchel had said they’d talk about it, and he could hold his questions until then.
“Hey.” Sinclair turned to Mitchel. “When do we get to eat?”
“I don’t know. When they all pass out from a food coma? I’ll give them twenty minutes, tops.”
Sinclair snagged a piece of bacon to munch on as he tended the skillet. Divine. The whole kitchen smelled delicious. He was starting to feel like part of the group. Part of a pack of werewolves. What would his parents say?
He’d know soon enough. He only hoped they’d understand.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Article by Supernatural Times Reporter Keller McCray
Tonight Is the Night!
