We sat in silence for long minutes.
“Eat your lunch,” Leif said. “Then we’re going dress shopping. You’ll need one for tonight.”
“Unless the dress comes with a weapon holster, I’m not wearing it.”
“No one will attack you at the Den, but there is a dress code.”
“Fine. But I’ll choose my own dress. None of this parading me around shops like a doll and making me try on shit.”
“Dammit, I had the whole Pretty Woman scenario planned.” He winked at me and took a sip of his tea.
I hid my smile behind the rim of my mug.
I was beginning to like this shifter. I liked him a lot.
* * *
The black sheath dress went well with the black suede ankle boots Sloane had packed for me, and the brooch she’d given me complemented the plain design, adding a nice finishing touch.
There was no make-up in the bag, but I’d picked up eyeliner, mascara, and some lip gloss on our trip earlier. Enough to add a little finesse to my look.
Shame about my hair.
It tended to go wavy without a pair of straighteners, and I was shit at putting it up—unless it was in a messy bun. It tumbled down my back in waves. Not my favorite look, but it would have to do.
Leif waited at the bottom of the stairs in a midnight blue suit. Clean-shaven, crimson hair slicked back so his cheekbones and chiseled jaw were on display, he looked like he’d just finished shooting an ad for some expensive cologne.
I’d like to say I felt like a princess coming down to meet her prince, but that would be a lie. Dressed as he was now, it was painfully obvious he was totally out of my league, so why was he looking at me as if I was the last custard cream in the biscuit tin?
He raked me over slowly and smiled. “Now, that’s a dress that does you justice.” He took my hand as I reached him and raised it to his lips, and no, I was not blushing. He grinned and reached up to touch my hot cheeks. “Pink suits you.”
“Pfft…Whatever.” I grabbed my jacket. “Let’s go get Tor.”
* * *
The Den was a converted farmhouse surrounded by land. The drive was long, but Leif didn’t let it get boring, pointing out city landmarks as we went and regaling me with stories about his childhood growing up with Tor and Rune.
His eyes stayed on the road ahead as he steered us out of the city and onto country roads. It was the perfect opportunity to drink in his profile. His nose had a slight bump on it, and a dimple played peekaboo in his cheek with each smile.
“Tor is not a morning person,” he said. “So, one time, when we were teens, we set an alarm to go off every ten minutes and hid it in his room. He trashed the place searching for it, then refused to speak to us for a week after. Rune baked him a lemon cake to apologize. Tor can’t resist lemon cake.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Fuck. I didn’t realize how much I missed him.”
“Rune was out of wolf form?”
Leif rolled his lips into his mouth and sighed. “Things used to be different. We used to be different.”
The car rocked as we turned onto a dirt track leading to the farm.
“We’ll bring him home.”
“I hope so,” Leif said. “Maybe having you here with me will make a difference. Maybe seeing you will make a difference.”
He was being optimistic on that count. Seeing me wouldn’t turn a guy’s head, and it would only turn a shifter's head if I was his fated mate, which I wasn’t and wouldn’t be until the binding. No. I’d need to use my words to get him to see how selfish he was being. If Tor was the man Leif described, then he would listen. The strategist, the negotiator parts of him would hear me out, and they’d see how detrimental his actions were.
The risks of handing over his responsibility to Ulf were too high.
“We’re here,” Leif said, turning off the engine.
We’d come to a halt on the dirt track just before it joined a wide driveway, which I assumed led to the main house.
“Leif? Is everything okay?”
He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “I’m going to have to kiss you.”
For a moment I thought I’d misheard, but the way he was looking at me, kinda anxious, kinda optimistic, told me I’d heard him perfectly. I also knew he wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.
“Care to explain why?”
“Females that come here carry the scent of the shifter whose guest they are. It tells the other shifters she’s taken and avoids unnecessary disputes.”
“When you say carry the scent, I assume you mean they’ve had sexual contact, right?”
He smiled wryly. “Yes. I’d say the kiss could be a peck, but it needs to be a little more than that to release my scent.”
In other words, he needed to be turned on.
My pulse fluttered at the thought, but I tamped down on the excitement. This wouldn’t mean anything.
I hitched up my dress. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
Leif looked stunned. “Cora, what are you—”
I climbed over the gear stick and straddled him, hands on his shoulders. “How’s this?”
Now that I was on his lap, ass braced on his taut, muscular thighs, his scent wreathing me like an aphrodisiac, my body finally allowed me to acknowledge how fucking much I wanted to touch him.
This was my chance. An excuse to have a taste with no repercussions. No Jasper. No distractions. My body tightened in anticipation, and the teeny, wicked side of me that I kept at bay came out to play.
I leaned in, so our mouths were inches apart. “Anything?”
His hands drifted to my waist, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. “You tell me.” His voice was husky, low, and intimate.
I rolled my hips against his, and we both sucked in a breath when his erection pressed against my panties. Wetness bloomed, and I scooted back, not wanting to get my juices all over the front of his trousers, but his hands dropped to my ass, and he hauled me flush against him again.
“No, this works. It works real good.” His mouth captured mine, and I forgot to breathe.
He kissed me like I was a ripe piece of fruit. Juicy, succulent, deep kisses that drew the breath from me and made me swell against his arousal. I sank my hands into his hair and kissed him back, grinding against him, no longer caring about making a mess as my mind went to dirty, dark places. Friends didn’t do this. They didn’t kiss like they were fucking.
His hand slid up my leg, under my dress, thumb caressing the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, sweeping closer and closer to the juncture and my wet heat. I jerked my hips toward him, wanting him to have access, to touch and probe.
The air crackled, and I was shoved away from Leif, ending our lip lock.
“Having fun?” Jasper asked from the back seat.
How long had he been sitting there? “Fucking hell, Jasper. Seriously!” I glared at him. “Learn to knock.”
“I don’t think you quite get it, Cora. If I can’t have you, no one can.”
Leif tucked his chin in, shoulders rising and falling as he grappled to regain his composure. Finally, he raised his gaze to mine and gently swept a strand of hair from my cheek.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I bit out, tearing my attention from Jasper and fixing it back on Leif.
“Jasper,” Leif said. “I’m going to say this one time and one time only.” His eyes remained locked with mine. “If you sneak up on me again, I’ll make sure I find a way to lock you up for good.”
Jasper snorted. “You’d have to unbind me from Cora first, and trust me, there is no way to do that. We’re bound as long as she lives.”
Leif’s smile was thin and calculating. “And if she dies?”
Huh?
Leif stroked my thigh reassuringly, as if he hadn’t just suggested my death.
“I wouldn’t allow it.” Jasper snapped.
“There are magical ways to stop a person’s heart, and in your weakened state, how would you stop
us?”
And just like that, the solution to my Jasper problem was clear. To untether him from me, I had to die. Just for a moment. Enough to break the bond, and then I could have someone revive me.
Jasper would be gone.
He’d be gone.
“No.” The word was an explosion of breath.
Leif’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No?”
I couldn’t let him know the thought of losing Jasper made my heart race with panic, that it opened a pit in my stomach. I couldn’t let him know that I wasn’t ready or willing to let my curse go.
None of that made sense, but I was great with excuses. “I’m the anchor. We can’t take such risks.”
Leif studied me shrewdly, and I was sure he could see right through me. My neck grew warm. I caught Jasper’s gaze, expecting to see it alight with triumph, but there was a darkness in his emerald eyes, unfathomable and deep.
He vanished.
“Fuck.” I closed my eyes. “Fuck it all.”
Leif’s hand closed around my nape. I allowed him to tug me down and press a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“Now, you better get off me so we can step back into friend zone.”
He smiled wistfully, and I was tempted to sink into him, lips and tongue once more, but that was a slippery slope to heartache. So, instead, I scrambled off and adjusted my dress, body still throbbing from the kind of kisses that should have led to a hot fuck.
Stepping back into the friend zone was going to be hard.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Walking into a building filled with shifters from different packs was a novel experience. These creatures usually stuck to home turf. They were territorial and aggressive by nature, but in the Den, wolf shifters from the four shire city packs mingled easily. Whiskey glasses clinked, laughter drifted into the air, and music played—low enough to set an ambiance but not interfere with conversation.
No one gave us more than a fleeting glance as we passed. “How is this place possible?”
“Tor made it possible.” Leif sounded almost proud. “I told you he had excellent negotiating skills. From what I’ve gleaned, several weeks of sit-downs with the city pack leaders, and they agreed to invest in a place where territorial disputes could be put aside and they could enjoy the finer things in life, do a little business, and be confident that no brawls would break out. This is essentially a gentleman’s club for shifters.”
It held a classy décor too. Nothing like I’d pictured Torsten to be. From what I’d heard about him, I’d expected a rough and ready shifter with a chip on his shoulder. Maybe some tattoos, heck, who knew? Now, I was intrigued to see the kind of man who’d dream up a place like this.
“I thought everyone said he was dangerous?”
“Dangerous, yes,” Leif said. “But only to people who cross him. When Tor hunts, when he fights, he gives in to the beast completely. He becomes the beast. In the past, there’ve been occasions where pack members were hurt, but he’s worked hard to get his beast in control.”
“Really? What about the banged-up envoys?”
Leif pressed his lips together. “Tor hasn’t been himself for a while. Like I told you, he left suddenly, renouncing his duty and setting up this new life.”
“You don’t know what caused it?”
“No. And believe me, I’ve tried to find out.”
I followed Leif past card tables and pool tables to the bar, where a handsome, young man was serving drinks. He had the kind of face that made me think he’d been up to mischief—a slight smile that flirted with his lips and a knowing twinkle in his eye.
The twinkle fled at the sight of Leif. “Oh, not again? Please.”
“I don’t want any trouble,” Leif said.
“That’s what you said the last time you popped by, and the time before, and the time before that.” He wiped at the bar almost angrily. “It took fucking ages to fix up the place, and you know it was up to me to do the repairs.” He glared at Leif.
“This time is different, Liam,” Leif said. “Can you please let him know I’m here, and I’ve brought a guest.”
Liam’s gaze slid my way and some of the irritation slipped from his face. “You brought a lady friend… Clever move.”
“You’ll make the call?”
“Against my better judgment.” He vanished through a door at the back of the bar.
“What did he mean about you being clever for bringing a lady friend?”
Leif sighed. “Tor won’t punch first and ask questions later if I have a lady with me. He wouldn’t risk you getting hurt.”
Ah.
Liam returned his expression grim. “He said to come on up.” He leaned toward us. “He doesn’t sound happy to hear you’re here.”
“Nothing new there,” Leif said.
He took my elbow and steered me away from the bar, back the way we’d come, and through an arch into a hallway. A flight of steps led upward, but Leif bypassed those for a door on the far side of the foyer.
He pressed the intercom.
“Yeah, go up,” Liam said from the speaker.
There was a click disengaging the lock, and Leif led me into the glass corridor beyond. Lights flickered to life as we strode through, leaving the world beyond the glass dark and forbidding. We passed through a second door and into a hallway with another flight of steps leading up and a set of double doors facing us.
“Okay, let me start things off,” Leif said. “We need to take a soft approach when it comes to the topic of Tor coming home.” He led me to the double doors. “The topic pisses him off real quick.”
He went to ring the bell, but there was a click, and the doors opened to admit us.
Leif took a deep breath and entered.
The room was in gloom, lights turned low, making it impossible to discern much detail. I caught enough to know we were in a lounge area. There was a corner sofa in the center of the room, a flat-screen TV bolted to the wall, and a bar at the farthest side of the room.
A man stood with his back to us at that bar. This had to be Tor. At least a head taller than Leif, with shoulders that could brace a mountain, tapered waist, and an ass someone could bounce pennies off, Tor was a beast.
He poured a drink into a whiskey glass, and I was mesmerized by the ripple of muscles visible through the thin material of the dress shirt stretched tight across his shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal taut, tanned forearms decorated in ink, and a thick silver bangle sat snug against his wrist.
I’d been spot on about the tattoos.
“I’ll take one of those if it’s on offer,” Leif said. His tone was light, but the tightness around his mouth and eyes told me he was far from relaxed.
Tor turned his head to the side, offering us his profile. Firm, wide lips sat below a straight nose. Thick dark lashes swept down to kiss chiseled cheeks. Unlike Leif and the other wolves I’d come across, Tor kept his dark hair cropped short. I noted the ink hugging the back of his neck. How many tattoos did he have?
“You brought a buffer, huh?” Tor’s voice was gravel and sex, sweeping over me like hands eager to caress my flesh. “I can smell you on her.” He inhaled. “Fresh.” He picked up another glass and poured amber liquid into it. “I don’t want to hurt you, Leif. So, let’s have a drink, reminisce about old times, and then you go. Nothing more, promise me. Nothing more.”
I wanted to see his face properly. I needed him to turn around.
“I don’t want to fight either,” Leif said. “But we do need to talk. You can’t run from this, Tor. You know it.”
Turn around, please.
Tor picked up both glasses and obliged. My breath hitched at the sight of his beautiful feral features. Wide cheekbones sat either side of a straight nose and sterling gray eyes fringed in thick, dark lashes latched on to me. He was a monolith of power and muscle, eating up space and sucking the energy from the room.
Where Leif’s aura was a sensual caress, Tor’s was a slug to the chest, grabbing m
e by the throat and shaking my libido awake.
I pressed my thighs together. This was not the plan.
Tor sucked on his full bottom lip, tipped his head to the side, and inhaled. “Like what you see, little witch?”
Yes. Yes, I fucking did, but he didn’t need to know that. I shrugged. “From all the shit I’ve heard about you, I was expecting someone bigger.”
He blinked sharply then let out a bark of laughter. “Leif, did you finally get some taste?”
“Cora is our anchor,” Leif said.
Tor’s attention flew to my face, his pupils dilated, and he took a step back, shaking his head as if to clear it. The whiskey sloshed over the rim of the glass.
“Tor?” Leif said. “Are you okay?”
“You brought her here?” he growled, head down.
“I wanted to meet you.” I took a step toward him.
His head whipped up, eyes flashing silver around dilated pupils.
I froze, muscles bunching in fight or flee response.
“Get out.” Tor’s voice thickened. “Get the fuck out.”
Light flashed in the periphery of my vision; I looked down to see my brooch glowing green. What the fuck?
Tor dropped the glasses and spun, slamming his hands against the minibar so hard the glasses perched on it rattled.
“Tor, what the fuck?” Leif cried.
But my attention was on Tor’s hands. Hands that were bubbling and morphing into paws. “Leif…”
“Get out.” Tor’s voice was garbled and thick. “I can’t control it. It’s not safe, I’m not—”
He growled.
“Tor?” Leif took a step toward his friend.
I made a grab for him, snagging the back of his suit and hauling him away just as Tor erupted out of his clothes in wolf form.
The massive beast turned red-rimmed eyes on us, jaws dripping with saliva.
Witch Unexpected: The Thirteenth Sign Book 1 Page 18