Page 81 of Howl You Doin?
He holds his arms out and his eyes turn multicolored. His scales begin to shine, reflecting a green light show on the cave walls that shimmers and glows as his true form grows, filling the cavern.
I grit my teeth when he shoves his big body roughly into mine on purpose. He morphs into his larger form, complete with massive horns that appear on his fat head—the bastard.
“Welcome tae the world of the supernatural. If this one gives ye any more trouble, lass, come visit my wee pond.”
His voice is deep, loud, and monstrous. The echo off the stone makes him sound even more ominous than usual. He flicks a middle claw at me as he glides into the water, and I watch him slip into the murky depths.
Gods. Finally, he fucks off, the Loch Ness monster going back to his favorite spot in the moat, so I can be alone with her.
Chapter 26
Whitley Whitt
Talk about a mane attraction.
I stare blanklyat the steam-covered shower stall wall, watching two droplets of water race down it, only for more to form as the condensation rises on the cool glass. I suck in a deep and steadying breath.
I know I can’t stay in here forever, but I can’t help hiding out for just a little longer. I resign myself to facing Connor, who I can hear rustling about in the next room. What’s even weirder is I know it’s him because I can smell him even through the water. His scent is everywhere, stuck to every crevice of his suite, and it’s making my body pulsate. Even my damn nipples are hardening for some stupid reason, and I think it has something to do with the wolf shifting.
We barely spoke on the way back to the castle and I didn’t argue when he offered for me to take a shower in his room, especially after he insisted that he would give me privacy.
Now here I am, all clean, but still unsure of how I feel. A large part of me wants to leap into his arms—a warmth tingles in my middle at just the thought of him—but whichhimcan Itrust? The bosshole I first met, or the now seemingly kind, but secretive man slash lycan? How can I know what I’m getting into if he can’t explain himself?
I keep worrying that he’s going to be avoidant, and I’m going to wolf out in anger and jump out the window again.
He should at least explain what the whole mate thing means.
That tingle turns rapidly to nausea at the idea. Am I even ready for that? I roll my shoulders back as resolve straightens my spine. I purse my lips together and the many questions I have for him spin like a Rolodex through my brain as I get out of the shower and begin drying off.At the very least, I deserve an explanation, I tell myself as I exit the bathroom.
My thoughts stutter and come to a halt at the sight of him leaping to his feet from the foot of the bed, a hopeful expression on his face and a spread of clothes behind him. His hair is swept back, and he’s dressed down in a pair of light-gray sweatpants, running shoes, and a zippered jacket. The dirt smudges on his face are gone, and it’s obvious he freshened up while waiting on me in the shower.
I force my gaze away from the hope in his expression, only for my attention to snag on the outfit laid across his blue bedspread.
“I didn’t know what you would want to wear, but I assumed you would want comfort,” he says. He holds my pair of cupcake-covered flip-flops to his chest like they’re something precious, and his neck and the skin beneath his beard reddens with embarrassment.
I arch a brow, his obvious nervousness making my heart melt a bit. My fingers tighten around my towel as I move to touch a cropped sweater in a deep rose color, the material buttery soft beneath my hand, and I just know it’s going to be the most comfortable thing to ever touch my skin.
“When did you get this?” I ask.
He nods his head in the direction behind me, and I turn to see a pile of boxes so tall it would almost reach my hip in height on the other side of his bed. I blink, wondering how long he’s been buying things for me.
“I ordered them weeks ago when I noticed your lack of wardrobe. They’re just now arriving to the castle.” He pushes his fingers into the side of his hair and scratches. “I confess, I may have gone overboard,” he adds.
Butterflies erupt in my middle at how nice it is that he would do this, and more than a small bit of hope and relief floods me. It feels so awkward between us, but I want it to feel normal. Something was growing between us before all this strangeness happened, and I want to go back to that.
To how we were teasing each other publicly without a single person knowing what we were up to.
Iwantto trust him for once because I’m still so scared and I know I can’t do this alone.
My shoulders droop and I eye my flip-flops in his hands warily, feeling the corner of my mouth lift with a small, albeit weak, smirk. “And since when is cupcakegate over?”
A wide grin splits his gorgeous mouth, making him look young and happy. “Why don’t you get dressed, and we can take a walk? There’s something I want to show you, and I can answer any questions you have.”
I glance at the clothes again and squint my gaze up at him. “Fine, but you had better cough up answers before the night is over, buddy,” I tell him.
I snatch up the clothes and retreat to change away from his searching blue eyes, and the warmth in them that threatens to make me fold.
Ten minutes later, my flip-flops thwap against a cobblestone walkway that I’ve never seen before. The trees on this side of the castle are overgrown, and a large hedge blocks almost even thehighest parapet so much that I can barely make out the windows I know are there.
