Page 23 of Wolf of Bones

Her meager smile and heavy sigh confirmed my suspicions - that she’d accepted the blame and been made to apologize for things that were never her fault to stay in her pack’s good graces.

“You will never have to say you’re sorry for being yourself with me.” I cupped her face in my hands and leaned in, pressing my lips to hers in a tender kiss. “Never again. That life is behind you.”

“Right behind me.” Talia rested her head on my shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of my neck; the warmth of her breath raising goosebumps across my skin. “And just how do you plan to break me of this terrible habit?”

“I have my ways.” I ran my hand along the inseam of her jeans to the top of her thigh. “You’ll be saying please, instead of I’m sorry.”

“Is that so?” She whispered into my ear and nipped my lobe between her canines.

“Oh, it’s a promise.” I slid my hand over her hip and cupped her ass. “The next time I hear you say those words-”

“I’m sorry.” Talia teased, her voice raw with need.

She opened the bond between us, drowning me in a wave of emotion and flooding my senses. I could hear her desire in her hitched breath and racing heart. Smell and taste it in the air. She drove me - and my wolf - wild.

But we wouldn’t be joining the mile high club - at least not on that flight.

Privacy was not a feature of the Kodiak bush plane we’d chartered to fly us into Prudhoe. Something I hadn’t considered when I made our travel arrangements.

The mountains gave way and the landscape changed from peaks and valleys to a flat frozen tundra that looked uninhabitable - let alone capable of sustaining and hiding a demon wolf pack.

“Attention passengers, if you look out your windows you will see the Dalton highway and the town of Deadhorse.” The pilot squawked over the radio. “I’ve turned on the fasten your seatbelt light. We’ll be making our descent into Prudhoe Bay in a few minutes.”

He landed the plane and taxied down a runway dusted with snow that would have caused most pilots to ground their planes and cancel their flights. For him, it was just another Tuesday.

Talia and I bundled up against the cold, slipping on knit hats and fleece lined gloves, and hiking the collars of our down filled winter coats higher to block the blasts of cold air against the back of our necks.

In other words, we blended in with the locals.

Or tried to. Something told me we were overdressed compared to the few residents who’d acclimated to the bitter wind and temps.

We left the airstrip, luggage in tow and headed into the small town that consisted of two hotels with the only eateries and enough infrastructure to support the oil workers who called Prudhoe home.

“Welcome to Days End hotel.” The concierge greeted us before the automated doors even closed behind us. “Checking in?”

“Yes, we have an online reservation. The name is Linetti.” Talia hitched her backpack up on her shoulder and crossed the high shine, white commercial tiled floor.

“Ahh, yes. Miss Linetti.” The concierge flicked his gaze between Talia and the bulky, outdated monitor connected to the desktop computer whirring beneath the counter. “I regret to inform you that we’re all booked up for the season.”

“What? That’s impossible. I booked a room on your website three days ago.” Talia’s bag slid down her arm and fell to the floor beside her feet. She rested her elbows on the counter, peering over the concierge’s side to catch a glimpse of the information displayed across his screen. “Check it again.”

“I assure you, Miss Linetti. I checked it twice.” The concierge ran his finger between the collar of his uniform cinched around his oversized neck and tugged at the navy blue wool fabric. “There must have been a glitch in the system. I am sorry.”

“I’ve been in a car and a plane for days. I haven’t showered, slept in a bed or had a meal that wasn’t prepacked and overpriced from the snack aisle in a convenience store. And you’re saying I don’t have a reservation because of a glitch?” She growled, elongated nails tapping against the countertop. “There’s going to be a glitch in your system if you don’t figure out what-”

“What my overtired and underfed girlfriend is trying to say, is that we would really appreciate your help.” I reached into my back pocket for my wallet, pulled out a few twenties and slid them across the counter.

It was all the cash I had on me, but if the upturned nose and disdainful look in the concierge’s eyes was any indication, we needed more than eighty dollars to grease his palms.

“Certainly, sir. I’d be happy to assist you.” The concierge replied, sarcasm dripping from each word, and swiped the bills off the counter. His fingers flew across the keyboard, keys clacking as he punched information into the system. “Yeah, I’m sorry. We’re still fully booked. May I suggest the hotel across the street?”

“Well, that was eighty bucks well spent.” I muttered, snatching Talia’s backpack off the floor and steering her through the lobby and out the door into the arctic winds.

“I cannot believe this.” A cloud of condensation carried Talia’s frustrations with it into the atmosphere. “I booked the room. They debited my account for a nonrefundable deposit.”

“We both know it wasn’t a glitch.” I glanced over my shoulder at the concierge warm and comfortable behind his desk, in the midst of an animated phone call. “They don’t want us here.”

“Obviously.” She huffed, inching her scarf up over her ears. “What are the odds that the only other hotel in this town has a vacancy?”

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