Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Shaggy black hair falls over his forehead, and his eyes… Good God, his eyes are so black and bottomless, like two endless pits, pinning me in place. He’s a burly, broad-shouldered, living mountain in a fitted shirt.
Kodiak Strakh.
Beautiful and brutal all at once. Probably wrestled grizzlies in the Arctic. And if the glare he’s throwing me says anything, he’d wrestle me just for fun.
Why is he here?
The bathroom door creaks, and a smaller figure slips into view. Red hair drapes around porcelain shoulders. Eyes big and green as emeralds. Childlike, but not fragile. No. There’s steel under those nursing scrubs.
Frankie Strakh.
Monty’s wife. Kodiak’s and Leonid’s, too, if the rumors are to be believed. Sitka’s favorite scandal.
Gracefully, she moves toward me, and Kodiak instantly tenses. He growls low in his throat, a territorial touch-her-and-die growl.
She hushes him with a small sound and leans over me, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead.
“Your fever’s still high.” She withdraws her touch and backs away. “I gave you antibiotics. Keep resting. Drink water. And stop using your hand like your wrist isn’t broken.”
My gaze drops to the aching thing, now splinted with a brace and neatly wrapped in fresh bandages. I flex my fingers, wincing. At least, they’re moving.
She clucks her tongue. “Nurse’s orders.”
Kodiak reaches for her arm, fingers closing gently but firmly, pulling her farther back.
She shoots him a glare so sharp I half-expect him to flinch. He doesn’t. He just holds her, his jaw tight enough to grind rocks.
“Thanks for coming, Dorothy.” Wolf pushes off the door and kisses the top of her head. “And your little dog, too.” He winks at Kodiak.
The big man grunts, but my attention is rapt on Wolf.
He turns to me like a fucking fever dream, dripping in drama. Black pinstriped pants hug his thighs, laced up the sides just enough to show skin. His Renaissance retro boots with pointed toes weren’t made for walking. They were made to step on a man’s neck and look good doing it.
Up top is some designer monstrosity, deep burgundy silk with high, exaggerated shoulders and embroidered gold thread twisting across his chest in baroque patterns. No buttons undone. No glimpse of a defined torso. Not even a sliver of collarbone. Just a smug, sculpted mouth and hint of untamed madness prowling beneath the fabric.
It’s infuriating. Don’t get me wrong. I love his eccentric aesthetic, but I want him shirtless. I want the tease stripped down and pissed off.
“This is a problem.” Kodiak glares at me and clamps a paw on Wolf’s shoulder. “Get it out of our town.”
“Heard you the first ten times.” Wolf shakes him off.
“I mean it.”
Wolf looks at Frankie and directs his chin at Kodiak. “Remember how he used to be a virgin?”
“Behave.” She gives him a teasing smile.
“Only if you watch.” His eyes sparkle.
Kodiak growls, and I’m tempted to growl with him.
“Alrighty.” Wolf claps his hands and shoos them toward the door. “You kids run along now. I got this.”
“I need to talk to you.” Kodiak plants his boots and shoots me a look that says I’m a diseased devil they should’ve left to rot. “In private.”
“Is this another one of those talks about how I shouldn’t be alone?” Wolf pulls on his pearl earring. “How I don’t spend enough time with you and the Strakh emotional-support brigade?”
“You’re not alone.” Kodiak spreads his arms. “You have us if you’ll let us in.”
“Sounds like you need some family time. Tell you what. I’ll pencil in a group hug after I deal with Satan over there.” Wolf jerks a thumb in my direction. “We have some marshmallows to roast over the barrel fire of his poor life choices.”
What the fuck? I’m lying here half-dead, and this is the guy who claims he is protecting Dove from me?
They go back and forth like this. Kodiak with his hell-dark eyes and quiet concern, and Wolf flinging sarcasm like it’s his sharpest weapon. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and genuinely charming.
I hate that their bickering makes me green with envy. I don’t have this. Brothers. Friends. People who care enough to smother me.
Kodiak shoves his face into Wolf’s, baring his teeth. “You spend too much time by yourself.”
“You think?” Wolf mutters, looking away. “I don’t need a babysitter. I need you to trust me.”
Kodiak blinks once, twice, then hauls Wolf into his arms and smashes an aggressive kiss against his cheek. “You’re still my little brother. Stop acting like you’re not.”
“And nothing says brotherly love like oral affection.” He turns his head and slowly licks a line up Kodiak’s neck.
As intended, Kodiak jerks back, stumbling to put space between them.
“There we go.” Wolf mimes spraying perfume in the air. “Boundaries restored.”
“Remember what I said.” Kodiak clasps Frankie’s hand and pulls her toward the door.
She glances back once, worry wrinkling her brow. He doesn’t let her stop.