This isn’t funny, Lyss. I’m coming to get you. Tonight.”
“No, you’re not.” I sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting my towel. ‘I already spoke with Dad about this.”
“Of course you did. Bitterness laced his words. “You always do this. Whenever you want to do something against my wishes, you go to Dad first.
I sighed. “Ric, please don’t be mad at me. I do have my reasons.”
‘You’re in an Alpha’s territory–an Alpha who once hurt you. Who rejected you.” His voice shook with barely controlled rage. I’m coming to that pack and bringing you home.”
“No!” I gripped the phone tighter. “Do you want to start a pack war? Because that’s what will happen if you storm in here.”
“I don’t care-
“Well, I do!” I took a steadying breath. Alaric, listen to me. Fenris needs this treatment, and I’m qualified to provide it. There’s no one else.”
“Fuck Fenris Wolfbane,” he snarled. “He’s the one who forced his son to mark you in the first place!*
The accusation startled me. “What are you talking about?”
“Dad told me everything years ago,” Alaric continued, slightly calmer. “How the old Alpha manipulated you both. Used some bullshit prophecy as an excuse.”
My mind raced. What prophecy? Before I could ask, Alaric continued.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he demanded. “That you’ll keep your distance from Tristan.”
“I promise,” I said sincerely. “I’ll be professional, finish the treatment, and come straight home.”
He grunted, obviously unsatisfied but knowing he couldn’t change my mind. “Call me every day. Miss one check–in and I’m coming for you, pack war be
damned.”
“I know.” A smile touched my lips despite everything. My overprotective brother never changed. ‘I love you too, Ric.”
After ending the call, I checked the time. Still early enough to call the twins before bedtime. I reached for my phone again when a sharp knock at the door interrupted me.
Assuming it was room service with the dinner I’d ordered, I quickly secured my towel and padded across the carpet. Without checking the peephole–a mistake I’d immediately regret–I pulled the door open.
Tristan. Again.
He stood in the hallway, one arm braced against the doorframe, filling the entrance with his imposing presence. His eyes, which had been examining something on his phone, snapped up to meet mine, then slowly traveled down to take in my state of undress–hair dripping onto bare shoulders, towel clutched at my chest, legs exposed from mid–thigh down.
Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside, his proximity sending my senses into overdrive as he closed the door behind him with a decisive click.
“Why are you in a hotel,” he demanded, voice dangerously soft, “when Moon Sanctuary has been prepared for your stay?”
I backed away, painfully aware of my vulnerable state. Water droplets slid down my neck, over my collarbone, disappearing beneath the towel. Tristan’s gaze tracked their path with unnerving focus.
“How did you find me?” I asked, ignoring his question.
A cold smile touched his lips. I own this hotel, sweetheart.”
1/3
Chapter 48
He’s here! He came for us! Astrid practically bounced with excitement, pushing against my control.
Shut up, he didn’t come for us, I snapped internally.
Tristan took a step closer, the space between us charged with an energy that made breathing difficult. Answer my question,” he said, each word precise “Why are you here instead of Moon Sanctuary?”
I moved backward, desperately needing distance. “I prefer neutral ground.”
Another step forward. “There is no neutral ground in Silverblood territory.”
My next step backward met empty air where I’d expected solid floor. Off–balance, I felt myself falling, a small gasp escaping my lips.
In an instant, Tristan was there, his reflexes inhumanly fast. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against the solid wall of his chest. The sudden movement loosened my towel, the fabric slipping dangerously low, revealing my bare shoulder, the curve of my collarbone, and the swell of my breast just shy of exposing too much.
Time slowed to a crawl. Our bodies pressed together, his heat radiating through his clothes into my nearly naked skin. My fingers splayed against his chest for balance, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath expensive fabric.
Finally! Astrid purred in my mind. His touch feels so right.
Shut up! This isn’t what you think! I internally shouted at my wolf.
Tristan’s breathing changed, growing heavier as his gaze dropped to where my towel barely clung to my body. His nostrils flared as he caught my scent- clean skin, remnants of soap, and beneath it all, the unmistakable note of my arousal that I couldn’t hide from werewolf senses.
Look at his eyes, Astrid whispered. He wants us. Let him mark us–right here, right now!
I will never let him touch me again! I countered, but my body betrayed me, skin flushing under his scrutiny.
Neither of us moved. Without warning, his grip on my waist tightened, fingers digging into soft flesh with bruising intensity.
His free hand rose to my neck, not gently but with undeniable purpose, large fingers wrapping around the column of my throat without applying pressure. A display of power, not violence. A reminder of his dominance that made my pulse leap against his palm.
He lowered his head to the curve where my shoulder met my neck, not touching but close enough that his hot breath fanned against my skin. He inhaled deeply, drawing my scent into his lungs. My body responded traitorously, a rush of heat flooding between my thighs.
His nose traced the line of my throat, hovering a millimeter above my skin, all the way up to the sensitive spot behind my ear. My legs weakened, and ! clutched his arms to stay upright, cursing the involuntary reaction.
Oh! Astrid’s satisfaction flooded my consciousness. Feel that? That’s the mate bond. Five years without his touch…I’d almost forgotten how exquisite it feels.
When his mouth finally brushed the racing pulse at my neck–my body arched into his without conscious thought. His grip tightened in response, one hand sliding up my bare back beneath the towel, fingers splayed possessively against my spine.
Yes, Astrid practically begged. Imagine his mouth on our skin after all this time…let him reclaim us…
Our faces aligned, his mouth hovering just above mine, our breath mingling in the narrow space between us. His eyes were almost entirely crimson now, his wolf pushing dangerously close to the surface. For a moment that stretched into eternity, I thought he would close that final distance. Part of me–the traitorous, weak part I despised–wanted him to.
Then something flickered in his expression–a moment of clarity breaking through the haze of desire. His hands released me so suddenly I nearly lost my balance again. He stepped back, putting deliberate distance between us, though his eyes never left my body.
I clutched the towel tightly to my chest, retreating until my back hit the wall. My skin felt too sensitive, too aware, the ghost of his almost touch lingering everywhere he’d been.
Tristan’s jaw clenched, his throat working as he visibly struggled for control. He finally turned away, placing distance between us.
Chapter 48
“Get dressed, he ordered, voice rough. Then you’re going to Moon Sanctuary
