Page 49 of Come for Me
Sam’s eyes are glowing, body shaking, his wolf ready to make an appearance.
Oliviaaccidentallyspills her blood-filled glass onto Sam’s plate. He scoots his chair out, shoulders and chest heaving, teeth bared and growling.
Dax’s dominant aura emanates into the room, glaring at him. “Sam...”
At Dax’s warning, Sam’s eyes return to their normal blue.
He gives Olivia one last glare before tipping his chair over and storming out, muttering, “Fucking whore.”
Heat encompasses my chest at the word—because who else’s whore would she be than her fiancé’s?
I study Olivia’s face to gauge her reaction.
She rests her hand on Dax’s arm. “Thank you, love. I’m sure Sam didn’t mean it.” Olivia sips from her glass, seemingly unbothered.
A growl emits from my throat before I can register it’s me who’s growling.
Dax and Olivia look toward me. Dax leans back in his seat and smiles knowingly.
He’s enjoying seeing me like this. Jealous and possessive—likehim.
I don’t regret the display, only the satisfaction it’s bringing him.
Olivia looks at her hand and clears her throat before moving it back onto her lap, then smiles. She strokes the stem of her glass. The act is suggestive in itself. “Forgive me. I forget sometimes how territorial you werewolves are.”
When she giggles, I swear her dead red eyes turn black with her fangs showing. If she did, it was as fast as a blink.
With my wolf surfacing, my eyes switch between a calm sea to a violet hurricane. I struggle to keep control of my wolf until I sense Dax’s arousal at my territorial display.
I shift my gaze to Dax to see him still smirking at me.
That smug bastard.
His caramel eyes mix with gold as his wolf emerges.
As much as I want to rip her to shreds, I am too stubborn to lose the ongoing war with Dax.
I inhale my pride and exhale my decision.
“Excuse me.” I leave the table and head upstairs.
Determined to find an unoccupied bedroom, I scour through the long hallway, when glass shatters.
A woman runs past me, almost knocking into me.
“Sam, stop!” the woman shouts.
Another crash follows a grunt from Sam.
There are so many rooms on this floor I haven’t explored enough to know what’s behind them or who resides where.Is it only high-ranking individuals?
That sounded like Dax. Paranoid and guarded.
I follow Sam’s cologne a few doors down from Dax’s. The essence of cedarwood seeps into the hallway, and I am confident this is Sam’s bedroom from earlier.
I cautiously creep forward, and a flower vase flies into view before it clatters against the cracked door. Gently pulling the ornate handle, I peer inside.
Sam is holding a Victorian-style cherrywood chair over his head, glowing gold eyes locked on the she-wolf. Curls of chocolate, champagne, and dark-walnut swirl about her features.
