Page 82 of Rabid
Of course, he already has his shirt whipped off and is tugging it down around my head. “Ow,” I grumble before slipping my arms through the sleeves.
“Don’t pout,” he laughs, pushing my hair away from my face and tucking a dark strand behind my ear. “You get naked often enough that you know the drill.” His brown eyes scan the lake, as if he’s cataloging exactly which males might’ve seen me, not that any of them would ever disrespect their luna by ogling. “Besides, I’ve come to the conclusion that you must do it because you like wearing my shirts.”
My lips curl into a grin. He’s not entirely wrong. Wearing his shirts means I’m surrounded by his delicious scent. It also means thatheends up shirtless, which never fails to make my mouth water. The fact that my nudity in front of the pack sets off his wolf’s possessive nature is an added bonus. It makes the sex even more off-the-charts.
“I missed you,” I say, even though I saw him when he left at dawn. “How did the hunting lesson go?”
“Terrible,” a male voice cuts in.
I look over and find Terris, the older, battle-scarred male with the missing eye. He walks up with his rough-voiced mate beside him—the female who cared more about me tainting the deer they caught than the fact that they foundmeon their pack land. I’ve learned that these two live on the outskirts of pack land for a reason. And that reason is, well...they’re assholes.
But they’re loyal assholes, at least. Not that they’ve apologized for dragging me to their house and putting me in the shed until they could alert Tyran of a strange wolf on their land. I don’t take it personally anymore though. I’ve learned that they just don’t know any better.
“Notterrible,” Tyran sternly corrects, shooting Terris a look as he and his mate keep walking, heading for the lake with fishing poles. These two might be unpleasant, but they hunt and fish tirelessly to make sure the pack is fed.
Shaking his head at their backs, Tyran then looks back at me. “The pups are getting better. Some of them will make excellent kappas.”
I look over my shoulder. “Hear that, Presley? You’re going to have new blood to boss around soon. I know how much you love to do that,” I tease.
Presley’s white and red wolf pauses from licking her paws. She shoots me a glare, lifting one side of her lips to flash a fang. It’s basically the equivalent of a wolf middle finger. I laugh and stick out my tongue at her, and her wolf chuffs before going right back to the meticulous grooming.
“How’s everyone doing?” Tyran whispers in my ear.
I smile at the warm concern in his tone. “Good,” I whisper back. “Harlan said Presley is still having nightmares. I talked with Vorria about this tea my mother used to make that might help. We’re going to see if we can track the ingredients down tomorrow.”
Tyran nods and surveys the red and white wolf. She’s come a long way, fought hard to make the progress that she has, but PTSD is not an easy fix or quick battle. Far too many survivors of Twin Rivers understand that all too well. Presley’s more subdued now, but I can almost say we’re...friends. What happened during that attack when I was almost killed and she was taken changed things between us, bonded us in a way. And Trinity and Daisy seem to be good for her. All of the females have been able to help each other actually, as they work through their shared experiences with Twin Rivers’ toxic abuse.
I only wish that I could serve them all Burke’s head on a silver platter. It still sends my wolf snarling every time we think about how he got away. But at least we’re all here, healing and happy, and we stripped him of his power and pack. Twin Rivers is now nothing more than a miniature pack, run by a she-wolf who Tyran is keeping his eye on. They know that they’re under scrutiny and they better not step out of line, or they’ll have Ruin Falls to face, and they won’t be spared again.
“So, you helped Ash give birth to her pup?” Tyran asks me, drawing my attention back to him.
“I didn’t do much,” I admit. “Ash did all the work, and Vorria was amazing as always.”
The old healer arches a gray brow. “Don’t sell your shit short, Luna,” she barks, though her face is the picture of calm contentment as she continues to rock on her swing overlooking the lake. “You gave me a hell of a boost.”
I give a little smile, shaking my head at her. “Fine,” I relent grudgingly. “I helped. A little. Ash and her pup are healthy and resting.”
When I’m not helping to merge the two packs together, making sure everyone feels like they have a place and a purpose, settling disputes, or generally watching over everything, I also help Vorria. Ever since I was able to use it to help Harlan and Hess, the crass healer has been having me practice to draw out my spark more and more.
Admittedly, I can’t do very much. But...the magic, as small as it may be, makes me feel closer to my mom. It makes my grief for her a little sweeter and a little less bitter, like she left a piece of her with me.
“My spark is getting easier to use,” I tell my mate. “And I can use it for longer.”
Tyran wraps a hand around my jaw, his brown eyes glinting. “You’re a fierce warrioranda gentle healer. Perfect fucking mate,” he murmurs, lips skimming against mine.
I nip his bottom lip, enjoying the heat that banks in his eyes from that tiny gesture. “Right back at you,” I say, before kissing him deeper, pressing my body right up against his.
He lets out a groan and pulls back with a shake of his head. “Alright, gotta fuck you now.”
“Tyran!” My eyes bug out at his declaration that waswaytoo loud, but he simply pulls me away by the hand, not caring who hears or sees. “I was going to go swimming,” I grouse.
He looks over at me as he leads me toward the pack houses. “If my mate wants to go swimming, then we’ll go swimming.”
Butterflies take off in my stomach as Tyran changes trajectory and heads for the woods, taking me up a narrow path.
As we get deeper into the woods, my eyes land on a familiar sight.
Our cave. He brought me back to where it all started.
