“You’re gonna tell me how to lead my pack?” He gets right in my face, his gaze skewering me, challenging me, daring me.
I’ve seen him do this with his males a hundred times. He forces them to look him in the eye, and then he eye-fucks them until they can’t help but lower their heads. It’s a dominance move.
I should be squirming, itching to bend my neck. But way back, I sense his wolf, calm now, attentive, and pleased as shit that I claimed him.
Killian narrows his eyes, and for all that he’s a massive dick, they’re the softest faded blue and the rings around his pupils shine like liquid gold. Someone so awful shouldn’t have such pretty eyes.
I have no urge to drop my gaze. None. The opposite. I want to keep looking.
My stomach flutters.
What did he ask me? Oh, it was meant as a rhetorical question. About telling him how to lead his pack.
But yeah, I have thoughts.
“Somebody should. You need to reign in the assholes. Unless you want to be the alpha of a pack so pathetic the males have to trip a female with a bad leg to make sure she knows her place. ‘Cause I’m such a threat to the natural order. With my killer wolf and all.”
I tense—you don’t talk to a higher-ranking wolf like this, never—but at some point, Killian’s expression has lost the aggression. He’s still pinning me with his gaze, but it’s more measuring. Considering.
He edges forward, pressing his broad chest to my folded arms. There’s nowhere to go. My back is to the wall.
But I’m not panicking. I’m—curious? My wolf is very interested. She’s right up against the border between us. Peering through the fence slats.
There’s a prod at my belly. What is that?
Oh, shit.
I know what that is. It’s his cock. He’s hard. I’m making him hard.
What’s happening?
I don’t look down. My face would literally burst into flames. I’m not—unfamiliar—with dicks. I’m not a virgin. There was a human male who used to sell glass pipes at the farmer’s market. He was friendly, and he lived in an RV. He invited me to check out his personal collection. Afterwards, I went to the lake to wash off his scent, and it was a wonderful afternoon—alone and alive and self-determined and free.
He’s in the Pacific northwest now. He has kids and a job with computers. We’re friends on social media.
And there was a visiting male from North Border who stayed with us for training. I thought I’d miss him, but I didn’t. Turns out, it was the sneaking off to the woods that was exciting, not him.
So, anyway, I know about cocks. But not cocks this size. Alpha cocks.
I gulp. My cheeks burn.
Thankfully, he shifts back a hair so I can’t feel it anymore.
“You’re wrong,” he finally says, low and intent. “You’re a threat.”
I shake my head.
“You’ve got an alpha wolf enthralled. How the fuck did you do it?” His Adam’s apple bobs as he speaks. He’s so chiseled, even his neck exudes strength, the cords, the vein running the length. My mouth waters. I want to sink my teeth into it.
I’m losing my mind.
I know this is an important conversation, but my attention keeps slip-sliding away. His body is fascinating. The deep ridge where his shoulders meet his pecs. The trail of darker, crinklier hair that starts just below his belly button—
He gently tilts my chin up.
“Eyes up here.” His voice is bemused. “What’s going on, Una Hayes?”
I swallow. “You’re reaming me out.”
“Kind of feels like the opposite.”
“Well, if I were alpha, I wouldn’t let assholes like Lochlan Byrne kick people when they’re down. And you’re lucky you didn’t kill Gael—"
“I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was making a point.”
“Which was?”
He frowns. “I ask the questions.”
“How’s that workin’ out for you?”
Did I just say that? Am I cruisin’ for a bruisin’， like my Da used to say?
He reaches for my face. I flinch. He hesitates for the slightest second, and then he brushes my cheek with his fingertips, grazing my temple. Shivers follow in the wake of his touch. Then his eyes harden, and he reaches behind my head, grabbing my braid by the base.
He drags me into his chest, winding my braid around his fist, forcing my back to arch, my hips to press into his.
I can feel him again. His length. His hardness.
My scalp stings. I whimper, searching his pupils for the gold of his wolf. It’s nowhere. My own wolf has lowered her head, almost purring she’s so pleased with his display.