Page 33 of Hunt Me
Prince Lykaon: They’re flirting, and if you believe King Alesi’s bullshit excuse about challenging you so that she doesn’t escape punishment, then you’re a fool!
Beta David: I’m not forfeiting.
Prince Lykaon: David… he will tear you apart for her. I’d rather not lose you. Look at them. Truly, look at them. She pilfered his necklace from his deceased queen he’s been wailing about for a century, and she still has blood pumping through her veins. What does that tell you?
***
“I think you’ve had a little too much wine,” David said as he led Matilda across the ballroom floor.
“Maybe just a tad,” she confessed, stumbling over his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I should’ve warned you. The wine in Moonshire is made a little stronger to keep werewolves drunk longer. Our metabolism burns off alcohol quicker than most.”
“Ah, that makes perfect sense. My head is starting to swim a little bit. I might turn in after a few more dances. I should be well-rested for the big day tomorrow.”
“I agree. I’m curious about something. What were the names of our children you thought of?”
Matilda pressed herself against David’s chest to hide the panicked expression on her face. She had to come up with something quick!
“I am embarrassed. I can’t believe I said that. I’d rather not.”
“Humor me.”
“As you wish. For a girl, Genevieve, and for a boy, Mathias.”
“Hmmm. Not bad, huntress. You’ll need to come up with four more names.”
Matilda cringed at his statement. The thought of birthing six werewolf pups was enough to make her almost toss her dinner.
“Excuse me. May I cut in?”
She almost sighed in relief when Luka interrupted.
“I’d prefer if you’d get lost; however, I’ll let the lady decide.”
“Perhaps… one last dance for the evening wouldn’t hurt. Thank you so much for being the perfect gentleman tonight,” she said, leaving no room for argument.
“Sleep well, Matilda,” he replied, kissing the back of both of her hands before relinquishing her to the impatient vampire. He was nearly out of the ballroom and paused to watch the vampire and huntress on the dance floor. He glowered at how easily she fell into his arms, how wide she smiled at him, and how enraptured the vampire king was of her. He hated to admit it, but his alpha was right.
***
“You reek,” Luka muttered. Matilda’s head fell back, and she laughed.
“Is that so? What do I smell like?”
“Lies… deceit… gold and rubies… wolf… and lust.”
“Lust, huh? You let your imagination run freely. That can be dangerous; almost as dangerous as getting into bed with a huntress.”
“I’d rather choke on a wooden stake.”
“That can be arranged,” Matilda replied in a dreamy tone.
“You have ten seconds to convince me not to rip your throat out for stealing my necklace.”
“May I tell you what you smell like first?” she asked.
“Everyone is entitled to their last words before they go.”
