Page 18 of Bound to the Wolf
She had finally stolen her night away, and then a fucking werewolf—Reece of the Southern Basin pack—had to show up and showherup and then dance with her like that, like there was actually something going on between them.
And that kiss… Nope, hadn’t happened.
Clearly she had hallucinated everything after Reece cut in on the dance floor and held her tight like she was everything he could want in a woman, because there was no way that man had dragged her out into an alley and kissed her like he needed her more than he needed air.
That was a hallucination. Temporary insanity. Anything except reality, really. She pressed her fingertips to her bottom lip before she caught herself and dropped her hand.
And Delainey couldn’t tell a damn person about it.
She was pretty sure Serena would never let her live it down. Yeah, Serena had been playing nice at the housewarming party that Nico and Elise had thrown, but that didn’t mean she was about to start making out with werewolves or approving of any more relationships with them—not that Delainey was even thinking about a relationship with Reece, because that would be insane.
She wasn’t insane. Except temporarily.
Elise could hook up with a werewolf to get her rocks off, but they were still dealing with the fallout from that one relationship. Delainey didn’t want to add to the problem because she didn’t want a werewolf boyfriend, and she wasn’t attracted to Reece, except maybe possibly sort of in a chemical sense, and all she had to do was stay away from him.
She didn’t have parents like Elise who were going to rush into town and try to drag her back and ruin her life. Her parents were nice and fine and they lived three thousand miles away. They trusted her to live her own life and make her own choices.
It was way too early in the morning for her head to be roiling this much. Delainey glanced at the clock on her bedside table and groaned. Ten thirty-seven. Pale morning light leaked through the gap in her curtains and fell in a narrow stripe across the rumpled quilt and over the clutter on her nightstand—a half-empty water glass, her phone facedown, a tube of hand cream with the cap off.
She buried her face in the pillow for three more minutes before she forced herself to roll out of bed and get ready for the day.
The best thing about online freelance work was that she kept her own hours, and no one cared if their web designer wasn’t available on the dot at nine a.m.—or if they did care, they could pay her more for that kind of availability.
There wasn’t really such a thing as a web design emergency, and she liked it that way.
A while later she headed down to the kitchen in search of coffee, just in time to hear a knock at the front door. Delainey froze—images of Elise’s parents coming back like they had any right—and braced herself for whatever was about to come.
Briana’s squeal of excitement was unexpected.
Delainey padded down the hallway, not caring one bit that she was still wearing her pajamas, and her eyes widened when she saw who was standing there. The hallway was narrow enough that her shoulder nearly brushed the wainscoting, and the hardwood was cold under her bare feet.
Thiswas who Briana was so happy to see?
Ah, great. Maybe they should get Elise’s parents to come back.
“Emerson!” Briana exclaimed. She had the front door pulled wide open, one hand still on the brass knob, her strawberry-blonde braids pinned in a loose crown that was already coming undone at the temples. “What are you doing here? You should have called first.” It wasn’t exactly an admonishment, just a surprise.
Emerson Carter was a witch from the Wallace Grove Coven, which already put Delainey on high alert. Even worse, he was Briana’s ex, and he had been quite the dick there at the end.
He was handsome in a clean-cut way—short, cropped dark blonde hair, crinkling green eyes rimmed by wire glasses, a pointy nose, and a mouth that was a bit pinched. He had the kind of looks that should have screamed “surfer,” but he was always far too pale for that and looked more like the academic he was.
He stood on the welcome mat in a pressed button-down tucked into chinos, a canvas overnight bag slung over one shoulder and a smaller tote in his opposite hand, his posture straight and easy, like a man who had never once been turned away from a door. He was another healer for Wallace Grove, though he focused on diseases of the mind rather than the physical ailments that Elise and her parents tended to specialize in.
And he was smiling at Briana like he hadn’t broken her heart.
But Briana was smiling back, so maybe the two of them had mended fences at some point. Briana hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have. Delainey and Serena had been the ones she had cried to when things got really bad, and she had had to beg them, practically on hands and knees, to keep them from doing harm to the man.
Serena came down the back stairs with her sweater hanging off one shoulder, a book bag slung over the opposite, and her hair gripped in one hand with a hair tie clutched between her teeth.
Morning rush mode.
Well, nearly afternoon rush mode. Serena was an adjunct at Hobson University, which luckily was about four blocks away, because Delainey was almost certain that Serena had a class at eleven a.m. and less than ten minutes to get there. Her sneakers were untied, the laces slapping the steps as she descended two at a time.
Serena shot her a questioning look.
“Emerson,” Delainey whispered.
Serena’s eyes got wide. “What the fuck?” she whispered. She glanced at the back door and her waiting car, then back at Delainey. “Should I stay?” She had stopped mid-step, one hand braced against the kitchen doorframe, the hair tie now twisted around two fingers.
