Series: Star Moon Pack Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“Take care with these females,” Dad advises us, following the direction of my gaze to find the cluster of women soaking in every word Hannah shares about her experience. “Their men don’t like sharing attention.”
As if I needed to be told. They take no pains hiding their mistrust of Forrest and me, a few of them openly glaring at us as if they want to challenge us for the attention of their females. It isn’t my fault we’re more appealing than anything else around here. I only nod in acknowledgment of Dad’s warning, still searching for a familiar pair of eyes. I won’t be able to rest until I see her.
My wolf feels her first, and something inside me swells, hot and impossible to ignore. “Whoa,” Forrest mutters upon watching Lili enter. “Somebody decided to come out of her shell.”
I can’t bring myself to tell him to fuck off. My tongue isn’t working—and neither is my brain, for that matter. My wolf has taken over, and my wolf wants only one thing: to know why his mate would dare walk into this event looking the way she does.
The dress she wore last night was just shy of indiscreet. This? This red scrap of fabric that barely covers her tits and ass? The mile-high heels she wears with it that show off her legs in the best—and worst—possible way? It’s almost obscene.
And it’s a beacon, drawing the attention of every unattached male in the room. They’re like flies, swarming around her, and all she can do is laugh lightly and greet them. Her sister is with her, and it’s obvious from the way she grins that this was the effect they were going for.
Unlike last night, her hair is up in a twist with soft ringlets teased out, floating around her face. When she turns around to say something to her sister that makes them both laugh, my insides turn to molten lava. Forrest almost chokes on his suppressed laughter. “Is that—”
“Yes,” I growl. Makeup. There’s makeup on her fucking neck, covering the mark. My mark. Is she out of her fucking mind? Who does she think she is? She’s nothing special. She doesn’t get to reject what I’ve gifted her with, what my wolf gifted her with.
“Motherfucker.” I mutter under my breath.
In my head, I call out to her. Look at me. She has to hear me, I know she does, the connection is still there, but she doesn’t flinch. There is no hint of recognition as she accepts a drink from one of the pandering assholes slobbering all over themselves to get close to her. I’m pissed. No, I’m more than pissed. I’m raging. Mixed among them are the same pricks from this morning, so obviously trying to get her attention over breakfast. I’m surprised they didn’t get up and get food for her, then feed it to her when they returned. I can’t help the growl that slips out of me, making my chest rumble when one of them makes the grave mistake of placing a hand on her shoulder while they’re chatting. To anyone else it might seem an innocent gesture; to me, it’s a death sentence, but things get worse. My growl grows louder and fiercer when she smiles without bothering to remove that hand.
Unlike last night, this evening is more casual in that there’s no sit-down meal. The lesser wolves from the various packs walk around, offering small plates arranged on trays. I couldn’t care less about food at the moment, but Lili accepts a plate. I watch, holding my breath, as she picks up a piece of beef and pops it into her mouth. I can’t take my eyes off her luscious lips and the way she smiles at someone who isn’t me. None of them are me. She should be smiling at me, god fucking damn it.
I’m not the only one who notices. Dad approaches from behind, stepping between Forrest and me. “I’m sorry, but why is your marked female over there surrounded by lesser men, looking like she’s having the time of her life?”
“Yeah.” Forrest chuckles along with him. “Shouldn’t she be melted against your side right now?”
“When I marked your mother,” Dad continues, “I would have to turn sideways to get through a door because she was attached to me.” The two of them share a laugh at my expense, and I have to ignore the boiling, seething rage, or else I’ll risk making a grave fucking mistake. Like correcting them. I’ve busted Forrest’s balls countless times, and he’s done the same—it’s kind of our thing—but I have to wonder why he continues this time around. Dad, I can understand. He doesn’t know any better. He doesn’t know I only did this because of Forrest’s stupidity. He doesn’t know none of this is real, and neither of them knows how much I wish it was right now.