Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Heat shot like a lick of flame straight through the center of me. Warm shivers raced down my spine, my core curling in a tight tendril that nearly ached as I watched him move his tongue along my skin. Goddamn, it was like he was laying the outline of his mark with the tip of it, all warmth and slickness, and fuck I felt like I was on fire. I closed my eyes, barreling into my mental arsenal to cloak my scent, to bury that obvious need wrenching inside me. The last thing I needed was Ransom smelling how much I wanted him, how much I craved that tongue between my thighs instead of the more innocent flesh of my wrist.
And damn me to hell, but that mouth, his breath on my skin, his scent in my nose…I wouldn’t survive this trip. Wouldn’t survive pretending to belong to him in every way—
A sharp gasp ripped from my lips as Ransom grazed the tip of his fangs over my skin, just a featherlight caress before he flicked his tongue over the area one more time. My chest moved up and down on its own, too fast, too obvious, as he finally, thankfully drew back and gently laid the fake tattoo over my damp skin.
He kept his hand laid over the white square, the mass of it easily encircling my wrist with more to spare, but he eyed me with a confused look. “Come on,” he chided. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“What?” I asked, breathless.
He nodded toward me. “You held your breath,” he said, shaking his head. “Like you can’t stand the thought of my scent on you,” he teased.
I huffed a laugh. “Well, you do smell.” Like leather and snow and a hundred different things to drive me crazy.
“Never heard any complaints before,” he said.
“Of course not,” I fired back. “Who would ever tell an assassin to his face that he reeks?”
“Reek?” He gaped at me in mock horror, then gently but firmly squeezed my wrist as his free hand came up to—
“No!” I said through my laughter as he lunged for the one spot on my body that tickled—the left side of my ribs. “Ransom!” I squealed.
“Take it back,” he demanded, and I laughed harder.
“Okay!” I yelled. “I take it back. You smell like paradise. Happy now?”
He immediately stopped, the smile on his face infectious as I caught my breath. “Don’t you ever forget it,” he said, releasing my wrist as he peeled the paper back.
My lips parted at the sight.
Ransom’s mark looked so real on my skin like it had always been meant to be there, but that wasn’t true. If we were mates, we’d have already felt the bond, right? No, we were…friends. Best friends.
And I needed to remind myself of this every waking second if my heart was to survive the mission to come.
Ransom slid his thumb lightly over the mark before tilting his head. “Well,” he said, smiling down at me. “I hope you’re ready.”
I sucked in a long breath, letting it out slowly as I nodded. “I know, waking the Hunters won’t be easy. And my family certainly won’t take the situation lightly.”
He shook his head. “Not that,” he said.
I furrowed my brow, and he smirked again, this time enough to bring out those damn dimples that could easily have me handing Ransom the whole damn world if he asked.
“Being mated to me,” he clarified. “I’m not sure if you’re strong enough to survive it,” he teased.
I narrowed my gaze, my soul igniting with the challenge. “Want to bet?”
“It looks so real,” Avi said a couple of hours later, my hand in hers as she examined the tattoo.
“I assure you, it’s not,” I said, gently reclaiming my wrist.
Avi eyed me but nodded. “Jocelyn did us another solid,” she said, leaning back in the chaise in the lounge room attached to her bedroom.
“She’s racking up those favors,” Valor said from the winged-back chair in the corner. Her cousin, Daphne, sat in the one next to her, her eyes firmly on the pages of the novel she was reading. “She helped me before too,” she said.
“Our alliance with the witches has never been as unsteady as the wolves,” I said. “But I wonder if she has other motives?”
Avi rolled her eyes, waving one of her gloved hands as if she could swat away my question. “Always strategizing,” she chided. “Maybe she helped us because she had the power to do so.”
I smiled at my friend, loving how pure and optimistic her heart was. I often wished I could see the world in the sparkling colors she did, but after decades of training and defending her, it wasn’t easy to see the silver lining.
“I’d rather ask the hard questions than be caught unaware,” I said, and she flashed me an obviously look.