Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Yeah, sure,” Channing says around a mouthful of cake.
Rafe shoves back his chair and throws down his fork. “Channing, I need to see you outside. Now.”
What the heck? Who the fuck does Rafe think he is, ordering Channing around like a disobedient toddler?
But Channing obeys. Both he and Rafe stomp out of the dining room.
To my surprise, Deke follows. “Thanks for the food,” he mutters as he passes me.
Sadie sighs and pushes out of her own chair.
“Wait, what's happening?” I say. Five seconds ago, this table was full, and now everybody’s leaving. They really do follow Rafe’s orders.
“They're going to fight,” Sadie says she doesn't sound shocked at all.
“What about dessert?”
“Oh, they’ll be back,” Sadie calls over her shoulder. “They'll be hungry after the fight.”
Again the lower half of my jaw sways in the breeze. I set down the knife and hurry after Sadie.
Rafe
I’m going to kill this fucking motherfucker. Channing lopes out the door and into the cold night, his muscles straining under his shirt. His wolf is frantic to burst out, defend itself.
“You don’t talk to Adele.” My growl is half human, half wolf, one hundred percent savage. “You don’t look at her. You don't see her. You don’t smell her.”
“You’re crazy, Sarge,” Channing grunts, stripping off his Henley and tossing it on the stone steps. He doesn't look worried. He wants a fight as badly as I do.
“No animals,” I order. We can’t risk showing Adele our wolves. If she finds out what I am, she’ll run from me to never return.
And I can’t have that. Even though I can’t have her.
“Just claim her already,” Channing’s eyes glint with a wild blue light. His wolf looking out from his face. “You want to. You know what she is to you.”
No.
It can’t be.
Adele is a civilian. She’s nothing more than an employee. An acquaintance. She barely tolerates me. “You know I can’t do that. I can’t claim a human.” Even though Deke did. Even though my brother Lance did.
A mate, a family, that’s not for me.
“If you won’t claim her, you’re going to go moon mad,” Channing warns. He’s speaking the truth, and I hate it.
“Not gonna happen. I’m not going to claim her.”
We start to circle each other, our boots crunching on the frosty grass.
Channing gives a wild grin. He looks as crazy as I feel, and I know what he’s going to say before he says it. “If you won’t claim her, then maybe I will.”
I snarl and launch my fist at his face.
Adele
The front lawn of the lodge has a fresh coat of white. Sadie’s already out there on the stoop, her body blocking most of my view through the glass panes of the front door. I pull on my coat and hat. It looks freezing out there, and more snow’s drifting down. Are Channing and Rafe really going to fight? In this weather?
What the heck is wrong with these guys? Talk about macho men. Is this an overdose of testosterone? I should not be feeding them meat. I should be feeding them... I don't know... soybeans or yams or something, for the estrogen. They need to take a freaking chill pill.
Bracing myself for the blast of cold air, I dash out of the door. My boots do skid a little bit on the icy stoop. Damn it, Rafe was right about wearing heeled boots in the snow. But for goodness sake, how often do I need to run in boots?
I push the door closed behind me, already shivering. Sadie stands on the stone steps, her body swathed in her big down coat and her shoulders hunched a little. Down on the path, Deke’s standing with his hands in his pockets. He looks almost bored. We're all breathing smoke into the cold air, and Deke’s not even wearing a coat!
Fat snowflakes float lazily to earth, spots of white in the dark night. I shade my eyes against the harsh overhead flood lights to peer into the dark lawn. The lodge is set into the side of the mountain, surrounded by thick evergreen forest. Rafe and Channing are out there, two dark shapes blending with the pines.
My eyes adjust, and I catch my breath. Rafe and Channing are half naked. No winter coats, no hats. No shirts at all. They’ve both ripped off their Henleys and are circling each other, their boots tamping down the fluffy snow. Their torsos flex as they move. They look like participants in some insane bodybuilding martial art competition. For some reason, it just now occurs to me that the fight might be over me. With quick, fluid movements, they bob and weave, and then in a blur they throw themselves at each other.
A cry leaps from my mouth before I can stop it. My hand flies up to my face as if I can catch the sound. The fighters grapple now, rough grunts and guttural growls escaping.