Jan shook out of sleep with a start. Bolting up, he blinked rapidly to clear the cobwebs from his eyes, and his gaze circled the room, scrutinizing every shape and silhouette.
He was back in his bed.
The windows were shuttered against the sun's deadly rays, and the lights dimmed. Nothing but silence filled his ears. Shadows and darkness, his god-bestowed elements, held still around him, promising safety.
His room was blessedly empty, but he could not shake off the sense of unease gnawing on his hackles.
He extended his senses, sniffing the air and listening for any sound or footsteps beyond his bedroom. The slight whir of the central air would be inaudible to human ears, but besides that, there were no signs of motion.
A delicate snore from next door told him his best friend had finally braved a return to his suite.
Jan listened for a couple more minutes. After confirming there was no movement on his floor or the one below, he retracted his fangs and curved talons.
His eyes fell on the white tablecloth draped over the foot of the bed. After decades of depravity crowned by last night's fiasco, the linen had covered whatever was left of Jan's modesty. He had flung it haphazardly in his rush to scrub off any lingering traces of Eva's perfume, the root of the evil that had nearly gotten him thoroughly debauched.
As if on cue, snippets of the previous night's bedlam flashed before his eyes. And along with it came a chaotic jumble of emotions.
How dare Ethan? He fumed internally.
Yet, right after the thought, his mouth uttered. "It's my own damn fault... playing with wolves like that!"
Jan could not deny he had nearly purred in pleasure when Ethan's dominant wolf emerged, rubbing his scent all over the vampire and claiming him as his. He had blatantly flirted with danger while acknowledging that Ethan's tantrum had been driven by anger and jealousy. Some primal sense of power had rushed to his head, and the high alone had nearly given him an orgasm.
Until it all went south.
Huffing, he punched a pillow in frustration. Everything was muddled up in his head, and he could not sort out how he felt about it. Even now, his body grew hard at the memory of the Lycan's hot mouth sucking the sensitive spot on his neck. While rage spurred his heart to a gallop at the image of forcing him down when Jan had tried to push him off.
"That little ..."
But his rage fizzled to shame when he remembered the looks on everyone's faces after he stormed out of the lounge.
The thin, white line of Chris' mouth tightened with displeasure. The wide, frightened gaze of Louie hiding behind a human. Jeb's mortified blush. And the most galling of all, the poignant look of pity in Zyga's green eyes before the tracker avoided his gaze.
They had heard everything.
Jan's face burned at the memory.
Groaning, he curled over a pillow, burying his head in it. He wanted to crawl somewhere and die. He needed to get away. Away from Ethan. The wolves. Everyone.
Breathing through the downy feathers of the fluffy pillow, a familiar smell tickled his nose.
Jan inhaled deeply, and as Ethan's musky scent filled his nostrils, it soothed his nerves and smoothened the furrows etched on his face. His chest tightened, and a dull ache bloomed deep within when he thought of leaving the hazel-eyed wolf.
"What a fucking mess!" he sighed, though rubbing his cheek deeper into the material.
Ivan was right: Jan lost all rationale when it came to Ethan.
ESTÁ A LER
Blooded Mate
Fantasia[[MATURE CONTENT]] Pack, family, mate. Loyalty, respect, honor. These are the words that form the foundation of the wolf society. At six years old, Ethan had to choose between his Alpha title and his survival on the night of his father's death. As a...
