Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
The thing was freaking—
The side of Ilya’s mouth curled up in a half smile that eased some of the severe soberness to his face as he reached over to touch a spot beneath my ear at the same time he leaned forward.
He was very magical, and he smelled nice, I thought, warily.
But not as nice as Henri, who was now my benchmark.
I felt a hint of his breath—
“Get your fucking hands off her,” a familiar growl almost scared the crap out of me.
Hadn’t I literally just told myself to pay attention?
Over my shoulder, I caught Henri storming over from the direction of the clubhouse.
He looked pissed. Pissed times one hundred if the bunched muscles at his shoulders and arms said anything. He looked a flex away from bursting out of his shirt.
It was unfortunate how much I kind of wished it happened.
Was the vein at his temple and his cheek popping at the same time?
Ilya, though, stepped back almost immediately, throwing his hands up, but… why was he smirking?
“Touch her again, and I’ll—” Henri snarled, his incredible eyes blazing, his face literally thunderous.
Was this Murder Henri?
“She gave me permission,” the other man explained.
“I did,” I added, not sure why the hell Fluff would be so mad. Was he worried he would hurt me? Hadn’t I made it clear that would be really difficult?
Or was someone… no. No.
But maybe…?
That familiar body slid between us, but instead of facing Ilya’s direction… Henri focused on me.
The paw that had been on my foot eased off, but I didn’t dare look at Duncan when I had a six-foot-six man staring down at me.
I frowned up at him. “What?”
A low, deep growl formed in Henri’s chest.
He tipped his head down in a movement that was almost identical to the harmless and common one he’d just busted us in. I didn’t move as he went further than Ilya had, his nose brushing against my neck. Warm breath wafted over my collarbone before he dragged the tip of his nose up the column of my neck a fraction of an inch by the second.
I could hear him breathe. I could feel it.
Henri’s cheek pressed flat against my throat, and there was no ignoring how he rubbed the bristly side of his face against me in the same way he had done twice before, with Spencer and after the men had been in the kitchen.
There was no stopping the shiver that racked down my spine or the goose bumps that erupted along my skin at the contact. Even my hair follicles seemed to wake up as Henri marked me.
Because that’s what he was doing.
Again.
Tagging me with his scent.
Replacing the stranger’s with his—not that there had even been much to begin with.
I stood very, very still.
And my heart went very, very fast in something that was either delight or excitement or both.
“Ah,” the leader from Alaska sighed from behind Henri. “I see.”
The man rubbing his stubbled cheek on me snarled, the heat from his breath getting that much stronger. “Shut the fuck up,” Henri snapped at him, and I would’ve sworn I felt his lips brush my skin.
I gulped.
“No offense, sweetheart,” Ilya started to say, “but, Henri, she’s not my—”
“You’re goddamn right she isn’t yours,” Henri roared, lifting his head away from my ear to shoot a glare over his shoulder. “She isn’t your anything.”
Was he shaking?
There was a long pause. “Regardless, the offer still stands, Nina.”
Henri was still turned away from me when he demanded, “What offer?”
I leaned around the side of him.
Ilya was smirking again. He had his hands in his pockets to top it off. “To join our community in Alaska.”
Henri’s whole body went rigid. “No,” he spat out.
“It’s not your call,” the other man replied in a voice that almost sounded cheery. “She wouldn’t need a trial period to join us, Duncan would have room to roam, and I wouldn’t ask her to marry anyone she doesn’t want to marry. She would have three years to find someone suitable. There wouldn’t be a lack of available mates either. Nina wouldn’t be single long; the three years would just be a safety net.”
Very slowly, Henri swiveled his head to glance at me over his shoulder.
If looks could kill, I might have been on my way to the ICU after the one he shot me right then.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “I didn’t say I’d go,” I clarified since he seemed to be looking at me like he’d caught me talking about him behind his back.
“But you didn’t say you wouldn’t either,” Ilya, the stirrer of the shitstorm, added for some reason.
Was he trying to piss off Henri?
Could he not read the room?
And why would Henri get this upset?
When I didn’t deny it, Henri’s forehead furrowed, and he faced the other man again. His voice came out even gruffer. “She’s not going to Alaska, and neither is Duncan.”