Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
It didn’t seem like a guess at all. It seemed like a hint from a guy who didn’t want to get involved but couldn’t help himself. The former alpha was peeking through.
Tristan smirked, turning away. “Noted—“
He jolted when he realized Natasha had been looking at him. Her gaze zipped away quickly, as though she hadn’t wanted him to notice.
“She mention anything else about last night?” he asked, keeping his voice low. She didn’t have the hearing of a shifter, but just in case…
“Are you kidding? I had to come up with a creative way to get that much. I’d wondered if you’d chosen the girl or the games, that’s why I asked.”
When he put it like that, Tristan was glad he’d made the choice he had.
“The guys, Jasper and Ulric, don’t remember much from that time period, though,” John went on. “Aurora doesn’t remember anything past the first shot in this one. Doesn’t seem like she got out much as an alpha’s daughter.”
“She kept things respectable in her territory. It sounded like she had to. Austin Steele allows her plenty of freedom. She’s trying to figure out a new normal.”
He could see John nod out of the corner of his eye. “I thought as much. A lot of alphas can be suffocating with their children, especially in generational packs. Uncles often are, too.”
“You’re going to hear this a lot if you insist on comparing normal shifter life to this convocation, but Austin is not like most alphas.”
“And one day, it might just sink in.”
“Dare to dream.”
Natasha was chatting with Aurora now, the two of them laughing and then grabbing their heads or each other’s hands, clearly sharing their embarrassment from the night before. Tristan watched Natasha’s every move, riveted. Spell-struck. To meet her anew, he’d think the same thing as the first time. He’d assume some sprite was showing him his greatest desire to lure him away, drain all that he was, and kill him for his folly. The difference was, with Natasha, he wouldn’t regret a single moment of it.
The others didn’t remember much from last night. He wondered how much Natasha did. If she knew she’d confided in him with something so horribly personal, the root of the trauma that kept building from there. And also, the root of her terror of small, dark places. He’d seen an episode of that when he’d first met her.
He wondered if she remembered his heartfelt admission, or if it got to go back in the vault, unsaid. He couldn’t decide if he hoped so or not.
He would stick to his word, though. He’d tell her about his past, and he’d give her another chance to be open about hers. He’d give her a safe space and an opportunity to maybe heal a little. To at least share the burden.
Finally, her gaze had no choice but to turn Tristan’s way. She’d run out of people to talk to. Her hand brushed her hair over her shoulder and her heeled shoes clicked against the hardwood, though she was in no hurry. When she’d nearly reached him, she noticed John, and a little tension drained away from her shoulders.
“Hey.” She smiled, an expression that could light up even the darkest of places. “Sorry about last night. I got a little too much into the party spirit.”
“No need to be sorry.” John inclined his head gruffly. “We’ve all been there. I’m happy you gave me something to do, or I might’ve been the one to finally go too far and start a fight. The way gargoyles stand in my way gets under my skin.”
She laughed. “It does with most shifters. If Jessie is around, stand behind her. She forces people to move with her magic. It’s much easier.”
She fidgeted, clearly looking for something else to say before the inevitable.
A swarm of butterflies filled Tristan’s middle. Maybe she did remember.
“It worked, though,” she said, and cleared her throat, the nervousness getting to her. “Niamh’s plan worked. We got them all riled up, and they tried to stage their version of a battle.”
She swallowed and adjusted her weight. The hip closest to Tristan popped out as she marginally leaned his way. A steadying breath, and her eyes slowly, grudgingly followed.
Their gazes met, and his body went loose and tight at the same time. His legs spread a little, a silent invitation for her to thread between his knees like she had last night. To drape herself against him.
Her energy exploded around her and reached for him immediately, sliding against his skin and taking root deep in his middle, sucking him closer. He very nearly got off his chair and closed the distance like she so obviously wanted. Like her magic was trying to unconsciously force.
He resisted and let his nightmare magic out to play, dancing with hers, licking at her. Her pupils dilated, the only person in the world who had ever been positively affected by his magic. She liked the danger, because she knew, for her, he was safe. His danger would be used to protect her, not hurt her.