Page 10 of Auditing the Alpha

“Isn’t it?” He moved closer, close enough that I could feel his body heat. “Haven’t you noticed how warm I am, even in the snow? How I can smell your emotions? How my family moves together?”

My rational brain scrambled for explanations. “Genetic condition. Heightened senses. Close family dynamics.”

Klaus’s laugh was low and rich. “All true. But incomplete.”

“Prove it,” I challenged, the whiskey making me reckless.

His eyes darkened, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of amber remained. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

I wasn’t sure of anything except the magnetic pull between us, intensified by the isolation of the storm, the whiskey, and the firelight dancing across his features.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Klaus set his glass down and took mine, placing it beside his on the coffee table. Then he turned back to me, and something in his posture had changed—become more fluid, more predatory.

“I won’t shift completely,” he said, voice rougher than before. “Not yet. But I can show you enough.”

Before I could respond, he closed his eyes in concentration. When he opened them again, they had changed—vertical pupils surrounded by brilliant gold, no longer human. His canines had lengthened visibly behind parted lips, and when he raised his hands, the nails had thickened into something like claws.

I should have been terrified. Instead, I was fascinated. And aroused.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.

“Not quite,” he said, with a smile that showed too many teeth.

I reached out slowly, hesitantly, and touched his face. His beard was still soft under my fingers, but his skin was even warmer than before. “You’re really…”

“A werewolf,” he confirmed. “My whole family. Born, not bitten—that’s mostly a myth.”

“Mostly?”

“There are many myths,” he said, leaning into my touch. “Some true, some false. The full moon affects us, but doesn’t control us. Silver is an irritant, not deadly. We don’t lose our minds when we shift.”

My fingers traced the edge of his jaw, marveling. “And what about… territory? Mates?” The last word came out half-whispered.

Klaus went very still under my hand. “What do you know about mates?”

“Just what I’ve read in books,” I admitted. “Fiction.”

“Some fiction has truth in it,” he said carefully. His changed eyes tracked my every movement. “We do recognize certain people as… compatible. Potential mates.”

My pulse jumped. “And that’s why your family was so interested in me. Because I’m…”

“Because you smell like mine,” he finished, voice dropping to a growl.

The confession hung in the air between us. The fire popped loudly, making me jump. Klaus caught my hand in his, his thumb stroking my palm.

“You’re not running,” he observed.

“Where would I go?” I gestured toward the window, where snow was falling so heavily it obscured the view entirely. “Besides, I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” he said, but he was smiling again, those too-sharp teeth gleaming. “I’ve wanted to claim you since you stepped out of that ridiculous car in your impractical shoes.”

“Claim me?” I repeated, heat rushing through me.

“Mmm.” He brought my hand to his face, turning it to expose my wrist. “Make you mine.”

His tongue flicked out to taste my pulse point, and I gasped at the contact. His eyes—those inhuman, beautiful eyes—locked with mine as he placed a gentle bite against my skin, not breaking it but definitely making his point.