Page 55 of Shadowed Bond

“What?”

“You were looking at me strangely.”

“I look at everyone strangely.”

“You were looking at me, dare I say it, softly.” She smiles faintly.

I scoff. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Must’ve been the lighting.”

“There is barely any lighting.”

“Then it was the lack of it.”

She laughs softly, and I feel it against me. I don’t know why that sound settles in me the way it does, but it does. Something warm and comforting. Even my wolf likes the sound of it.

Yesterday I was avoiding her, insulting her, telling myself she was irritating, distracting and too fucking pretty for my peace of mind.

Now I’m lying here with her tucked against me, wanting to bite anyone who so much as looks at her wrong and pretending I’m normal about it.

I’m not normal about it.

Not even close.

Her hand moves up to my neck, fingers brushing the place where my pulse beats. “You’re frowning again.”

“Get used to it; I frown 95 percent of the time.”

“That I agree with,” she replies. Her lips twitch as she suppresses a smile. She just looks at me, and there’s something in her eyes that makes my throat feel tight. An intense wave of emotions crashes through me at the expression of contentment on her face.

She looks content, and the fact that it’s ‘cause of me? That’s fucking terrifying.

I swallow, brushing my thumb along her waist. “You alright?”

“Yes.”

“Actually?”

Her gaze softens. “Actually.”

“Good.”

“You have asked me that already.”

“I’ll ask again if I want.”

“I am beginning to realise that.”

“You got a problem with it?”

“No,” she says quietly, and there’s no teasing in it now. “I don’t.”

I stare at her.

My chest does that stupid thing again.