Rhyannon Byrd - Dark Wolf Returning

“Your men, they seem pretty loyal to you,” she said to break the uncomfortable silence. As well as to get her attention focused on something other than how freaking hot he looked. Eli had always worn the post-fight look well, and it looked even better on him now, with his shaggy hair and fierce expression. There were more little lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes than the last time she’d seen him, but they only added to his rugged appeal. It was one of those unfair imbalances in the universe, how things that made a woman look aged usually only a made a man look more attractive. And Eli wore that “lived in” look well.

She didn’t think he was going to bother giving her any kind of response, but he surprised her when he tossed her ruined shirt aside and said, “They’re a good bunch of guys. We’ve been through a lot together.”

She didn’t have time to be embarrassed about sitting there in nothing but her jeans and bra, because he opened one of the wipes and started cleaning the oozing wound. Her breath hissed through her teeth at the sharp sting of pain, but she forced it to the back of her mind and asked, “How did you all meet?”

He tossed the wipe into the nearby trashcan, and shot her a wry glance. “How about I tell you that story when you don’t look like you’re about to pass out?”

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse than this and survived.” Both physically...and emotionally.

He frowned, as if he’d heard her thoughts. Or maybe he just didn’t like the idea of her getting hurt. He never had liked her being a Runner, thinking it was too dangerous. But she’d never had any intention of leaving her job to make him happy. The way she’d seen it, if he’d truly cared about her, he would have learned to accept her and see her for who she really was: a woman and a warrior.

But, then, he’d never really cared about her, had he?

Trailing his rough fingertips just under the graze, he said, “You’ll heal with rest, but the bra needs to come off or it’s going to keep rubbing against the wound during the night.”

Carla looked him right in the eye and gave him her best as if look. “Not—Happening.”

“I wasn’t asking, Rey.”

Gritting teeth, she muttered, “You always were a bossy, manipulative jerk.”

He snorted as he shoved the chair back and knelt in front of her, his big body so close she could feel his delicious heat like a physical touch against her chilled skin. “And yet you used to love spending time with me,” he offered huskily, his mouthwatering scent settling on her tongue like a gift. “What do you think that says about you, princess?”

God, he was so damn good at pissing her off. “I’m not a princess.”

His sensual lips curved in a way that would have made any other woman whose heart he hadn’t shredded light-headed with desire. “Sure you are, Rey. All those big bruisers in the Alley think of you as their little sister, which makes you the princess of the group.”

“They think of me as their equal,” she snarled, wondering why he was goading her on purpose. Then she felt her nipples tightening in the cool air, and realized he’d managed to cut her bra off while she’d been growling at him. Argh! She must be woozier than she’d thought if she hadn’t caught on before he’d bared her to his dark, heavy-lidded gaze.

He was staring at her naked breasts, hard, and she blushed clear to the roots of her hair, trying to cover herself with her right arm, her blood nearly boiling when she caught the crooked smirk on his lips.

His hot gaze flicked up to hers. “After everything that happened between us that last night we were together, modesty is a little pointless now, don’t you think?”

“It was dark in your room that night.” Not to mention it was three years ago, and he’d been drunk off his ass.

“Yeah, but I’m a pure-blood. My night vision is even better than yours.” He flicked his tongue over his teeth, and his lips twitched into a wicked grin. “My sense of taste, too.”

Lust shot through her in a burst so primal and potent it made her shudder, and it took every ounce of strength she possessed not to pant...or throw herself at him. “I would have thought you were too wasted to remember anything from those particular minutes, Eli.”

He slowly arched one of his dark brows. “That night wasn’t the only time I had your taste in my mouth, Rey.”

She blushed even hotter when she realized he was talking about the time he’d licked her juices from his fingers after they’d been inside her. He’d made her come with his hand during their last “sober” interaction together. It’d been two days before the drunken night at his house in Shadow Peak, and they’d met in the woods, as they so often had, carefully avoiding the prying eyes of the pack.

A bitter laugh sounded inside her head as she thought about that telling fact. She should have known then that she was nothing more than his dirty little secret. Something he was too ashamed to admit to. But she’d been blinded by love and faith and foolish dreams. Dreams that had lived inside her heart for too many years to fight them.

With perfect clarity, Carla could still remember the first time she’d ever set eyes on Eli Drake. She’d been no more than twelve, and he’d been...well, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He should have detested the sight of her, given his father’s virulent hatred of humans and half-breeds, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d grinned at her that day that they’d passed on a small street in Shadow Peak—but it’d been years before they’d ever spoken to each other. Ten, to be exact. And she could still recall the details of that night as if it’d happened only yesterday.

Her mother had always had...issues. And she’d had dismal taste in men. After a string of abusive relationships with Lycan males, Nicole Cates had vowed to only date humans. But the relationships never lasted. The only lasting relationship Nicole had ever enjoyed was with a bottle.

Carla was the result of a short-term affair her mother had had with a human named Antonio Reyes, and he’d disappeared from her life as quickly as he’d entered it. To her family’s surprise, and disgust, Nicole had decided to keep the child, thinking a baby might help her find some stability. But it was Carla who’d become the caretaker. Nicole’s family had made it clear they wanted nothing to do with their pathetic daughter and her half-human offspring, and so the two of them had been on their own. Though she’d had the support of her fellow Bloodrunners when she’d gotten older, no one from the pack had ever helped her and her mother, until the night she’d first spoken to Eli, less than a week after she’d turned twenty-two.

She could still feel the hot slide of angry, frustrated tears slipping down her face as she’d struggled with her mother’s limp body that night, the salty taste of them on her lips. She’d had a call that Nicole was passed out on a sidewalk outside one of Shadow Peak’s bars. Too embarrassed to tell the other Runners, she’d left the Alley and gone up to town to handle it on her own. As she’d tried to get Nicole on her feet, shame had burned in her belly at the thought of the girls she’d gone to school with seeing her mother like this, knowing how horrible they would be. The derogatory names they would call them. The same names she’d heard her entire life.

And then, out of nowhere, Eli had walked out of the darkness and taken her mother from her arms, carrying her home while a stunned and wary Carla had walked beside him. She’d been amazed to realize that he not only knew her name and where her mother lived, but that she was Bloodrunning partners with Wyatt. Afterward, they’d talked out in her mother’s backyard, and it had been the beginning. Of their friendship. Of her love. Of...of everything.