Page 16 of Brody
The raw possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with something I’d spent a lot of time denying.
Someone jostled me from behind, the crowd pressing in with supernatural strength that would have knocked a human off their feet.Before I could regain my balance, Brody’s hand was at my waist, steadying me with a grip that was both gentle and uncompromising.Heat bloomed instantly where his fingers pressed through the thin fabric of my blouse, each point of contact a spark of electricity that raced across my skin.
His scent enveloped me as he pulled me against his chest, creating a buffer between me and the jostling crowd.My treacherous body responded instantly, my heartbeat accelerating to match his, my skin feeling hot with a sensation that had nothing to do with the press of bodies around us.
“Easy,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.
For one dizzying moment, I was conscious of the solid wall of his chest against my back, the way our bodies fit together with devastating perfection, the steady rhythm of his breathing that my own lungs instinctively matched.The mate bond hummed between us, invisible threads pulling tighter with every second of contact, erasing years of distance in an instant.
Yet even as our bodies recognized each other, my mind erected steel walls reinforced by the memory of watching him walk away without a backward glance.The physical intimacy only highlighted the emotional chasm between us, a gulf so wide it might as well have been an ocean.
“Don’t,” I hissed, jerking away from his touch even as my skin mourned the loss of contact.“I don’t need your protection.”
His expression shuttered, eyes going from concerned to distant in the space of a heartbeat.The muscle in his jaw ticked once, the only visible sign that my rejection had affected him at all.
“Fuck this,” he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking away through the crowd, which parted instinctively before his barely contained aggression.
Quinn arched a brow.“Is everything okay between you two?”
“It’s nothing,” I said.“Now tell me anything I need to know before my presentation.”
Quinn’s expression darkened slightly.“The town council is here.Each are highly respected leaders of their kind.Technically figureheads.I have the final say as town alpha, but their approval would make your work here easier.”
“And their disapproval?”
“Could make it hell,” he said bluntly.
I nodded, mentally cataloging the politics.“The town council sounds formidable.”
“The wolf-shifter brothers Wilder and Hugo never even show up for meetings,” Quinn said with a dismissive wave.
“And the others?”I prompted, mentally preparing myself for the local politics I’d need to navigate.
Quinn tapped his fingers against his thigh as he cataloged the power players, each gesture precise and controlled as befitting an alpha wolf.“Bonnie leads the jaguars,” he said, his voice dropping as a woman with feline grace passed by, her eyes flicking toward us with predatory assessment before she nodded to Quinn and continued on.
I filed the information away, watching how others in the crowd instinctively created space around the jaguar-shifter’s path.The feline recognized another feline.My cheetah half stirred with instinctive wariness, hackles raised beneath my human skin.
“Over there,” Quinn continued, subtly inclining his head toward a regal woman with dark skin and silver-streaked red hair cascading down her back like liquid flame.“Isabella.Dragon-shifter.”
“A dragon?”The words escaped before I could stop them, my mind racing through implications.Dragons were nearly mythical even among Others, their power so old and vast that most preferred isolation to community.“Here?Involved in local politics?”
“Don’t let the designer suit fool you,” Quinn murmured, respect evident in his tone.“She’s old enough to remember when humans thought the Earth was flat.Her family’s wealth makes the Rockefellers look like corner-store owners.But she’s seen too many of her unmated males lost to feral progression.This makes her an unexpected ally for your research.”
My gaze tracked to where the stocky man who’d confronted us outside was now moving through the crowd, people parting before him not with respect but with wariness, like prey animals spotting a predator with unpredictable tendencies.
“Shane,” Quinn confirmed, his jaw tightening visibly.“The honey badger alpha we met outside.Perpetually convinced someone’s plotting against him.”
“And clearly has a problem with my family,” I finished, recognizing the hatred I’d seen too often in my career.My stomach knotted with familiar tension, old wounds pulsing beneath newer scars.Of course there would be someone like Shane in a position of power.There always was.
“Gertrude runs the ferret-shifters,” Quinn continued, nodding toward a thin woman who appeared to be casually adjusting a painting but whose sharp eyes missed nothing.“Seems harmless but has a network of informants that would make the OIA jealous.That woman knows what you had for breakfast before you’ve decided to eat it.”
As if sensing our attention, Gertrude snapped her gaze to us with unnerving precision before she returned to her task.She’d be watching me, cataloging weaknesses, filing away every detail for future use.
A subtle ripple moved through the crowd as a statuesque black woman with long white hair entered, the air around her almost visibly charged with power.
“Freya,” Quinn said, though her identity was obvious from the magic crackling around her like static electricity.
The witch’s presence commanded attention without effort, magic emanating from her in waves I could almost see.My skin prickled with goose bumps as she passed, my mind struggling to rationalize the pure power that defied all my years of research.
