Page 47 of Ravenous

Sweet Hecate, I might.

He smiled. “Aye, another date. You know, for our peoples.”

Her laugh came shaky but real. “For our peoples,” she echoed. The tension ebbed. The whiskey glow softened them both. But when she met his gaze again, something unspoken lingered there.

An awareness that this peace could never last.

She sighed and said, “We met in the middle, at least for a spell. If only our leaders could.”

“You remain unoptimistic?”

“I fear,” she said, looking into the firelight, “the next time they meet will be on opposite sides of a battlefield.”

Outside, the wind pressed against the walls of the toadstool cottage—like the forest itself exhaled in resignation.

Chapter 20Ditch

The Mount of No Swords

The werewolf king stared at her appearance, jaw slackened, until he finally clawedhis way back to speech. “What”—a heaving breath—“the”—another—“fuck?”

Ditch glanced down at her wardrobe choice, or lack of one. “In your invitation to meet, you didn’t specify attire, so I wasn’t sure how to dress. Awash with doubt, I chosenot to.” She wore only a black thong and knee-high boots. Her long hair lay loose, veiling her breasts—at least until the next breeze combed it aside. “It’s very liberating. Less fun for sitting. That boulder over there looks like a fine perch, but it will give my ass and tail a crease no female can pull off.” To herself, she muttered, “Ass creases—the bane of the nudist.”

“What are you bloody playing at?” He choked out the words. “Do you mean to tempt me beyond reason?”

Scandalized, she pressed a hand to her chest. “King Thane! Are youflirtingwith me??”

Scowl. “Why do this?”

“Because audacity is everything.” Why did everyone always assume she would play by rules she didn’t create in the first place? Such as clothing choices for a political meeting. “Everything.” She spread her arms to the night sky. The Mount of No Swords was all light breezes and white stone this eve. No black fog in sight. “I didn’t have to meet with you, so the words you’re looking for are ‘All my abject gratitude, generous Wiccan.’”

He paced, tension packed into every step, like a trapped wolf testing the hold of a spring snare. His self-control was iron…but fraying.No choice but tochew your own leg off, Lykae.

She must tick all his boxes. To be fair, he ticked her box as well.His big erection strained against his leather breeches, drawing her gaze like prey.

“You’re either here to fuck me,” he said, deep burr thickening, “or to fuckwithme.”

Yes. She meant to keep him unsettled. “I’m clearly here for constructive dialogue. Hark my opening salvo.” She snapped the top of her thong with a satisfyingthwap.

He faced her then with his jaw ticking and nostrils flared, and his attention dipped to her body once more.

As if he’d willed it, a breeze lifted her pale hair, teasing locks over her breasts; a red nipple flashed through the strands, tightening at the cold. “Oh, how thattickles,” she said conversationally.

He made a sound—part growl, part prayer.

“You did say you’d surrender after one fuck.” She cast him her come-hither grin. “What a way to go down, wolf. Just abdicate your kingdom’s rule to me…”

Gnashing his teeth, he crossed the distance to her in three strides—not pouncing (a pity; her horns and tail were poisonous) but shrugging off his long leather coat to drape over her shoulders.

Heat pooled around her as his scent swept her up. She wasn’t the only one with tricks up her sleeves. His innate scent—pine, sandalwood, and aggression—was like an arousal elixir.

Still, she hadn’t planned on being fully clothed. She’d wanted to test how this brute would react without the confines of civility. “Thanks, but I’ll decline—”

He caught her chin. Not hard. Firm. Searing attraction ricocheted between them as sharp as a dagger and just as dangerous. “Take off that coat,” he said low, “and I’ll turn you over that boulder and give us both what we need.”

Tempting.

“Otherwise,” he went on, easing back, “keep it on so I can voice a proposal. The reason I called this meeting.”