I waggled my shaggy brows at her. “Well, I do have a few minutes.”
The blush returned to her cheeks and she lowered her gaze. “Liam is waiting for me upstairs. Let me help you heal before I leave.” Emme’s delicate fingers touched my face. I’d watched her tend to others before with her gift, but I’d never experienced her touch first hand. A gentle yellow light streamed from her fingertips, surrounding us both. It felt . . . nice . . . really nice, even when my jaw cracked as my new teeth found their home.
She drew her hands back slowly and angled her chin to assess her work. Damn, she was pretty, soft blonde waves falling just past her shoulders and a splash of freckles across her nose. “Better?” she asked.
“Ah, yeah, Em . . . that was. . . . Thanks, just thanks.” What the hell was wrong with me? Talk much, ass**le?
“You’re very welcome.” She looked up at the kitchen wall clock. “I’d better find Liam. If I’m even five minutes late he convinces himself that some evil monster ate me.” She embraced my neck, surprising me by not letting go right away and speaking with a voice heavy with sadness. “You know what I said about Celia and Aric’s love being rare and beautiful?”
“Yeah?”
“As much as it hurt them, every last smile, touch, and soft word was cherished. And I bet both would give anything to experience it again.” She sighed softly. “I wish Liam could love me that deeply.” She released me then, and slowly my arms slipped from her back. With a small wave, and an even smaller smile, she left kitchen.
For some strange-ass reason, I was really hating Liam then.
• • •
On my way out of the building, I spotted a tall, leggy blonde carrying a couple of bags of takeout. She dressed like a slutty heiress—tight skirt hiked up high enough to crush her ovaries and a pink silk blouse skimpy enough to strain against her braless hooters. I recognized her as Aric’s fiancée. She’d shown up uninvited to Shayna and Koda’s wedding a few weeks ago and had caught Aric and Celia making out like a bunch of horny teens on the dance floor. She stopped short when she saw me and narrowed her amber eyes. “You’re that idiot, Brian, right? Celia Weird’s friend?”
A slow, easy grin inched across my face. Sister, you just messed with the wrong wolf. “The name’s Bren. But you’re right; I am friends with Celia Wird. You’re Charlotte, aren’t you?”
“My name is Barbara.”
I grimaced, feigning embarrassment. “Sorry, didn’t know. Aric never mentions you.”
Hey, Aric said I had to be respectful of him and his Warriors. He never mentioned being nice to this bitch.
A scowl creased her face, revealing that ugly side the prima donna likely worked to keep hidden. She composed herself and licked her bright red lips. “I was just coming in to see my fiancée.” She lifted the bags and shook them in my face. “I brought him dinner from Stan’s Bar-B-Q.”
I laughed.
She dropped her hands, shuffling the contents of Aric’s dinner. “What’s so funny?”
“You don’t cook, do you?”
She lifted her chin. “So, what?”
“So? Sweetheart, there’s two ways to snag a wolf—in the kitchen and in the bedroom. Celia managed both. She’d fix Aric meals like filet mignon stuffed with shrimp, and pineapple upside-down cheesecake.” I shrugged. “But I guess he needed the calories since he’d rush them to bed the moment he licked that last bit of whipped cream off her lips.”
Whatever restraint she had cracked like a strike of lightning. She punched me hard across the face, jolting the new teeth Emme helped me grow in. I flexed my jaw and loomed over her. Unless she went for the kill, there’s no way I’d hit her back. I didn’t hit girls. Period. So instead I reeled my animal side in and leaned back on my heels, smiling wider. “Bottom line, I’ve never scented you on Aric. So you can’t cook.” I held out a finger. “And he obviously hasn’t rushed you to bed.” I added another finger and wiggled them at her. “Two strikes. You’re out, babe.”
For several seconds all we did was breathe. She eyed my throat like she wanted a bite until she finally squared her shoulders and met my glare in challenge. “None of that matters, you ball-less little bastard. That tramp friend of yours is despised by our kind and long gone from Aric’s life. I’ll be his wife soon, and there’s not a goddamn thing you or she can do about it.” She circled me, paying close attention to the bloodstains on my flannel shirt and the rip in my jeans. “I’ll have a lifetime to learn how to cook for him and pleasure him in ways that bitch never could.” She whispered the last part in a low, satisfied voice. She thought she’d shut me up.
She thought wrong.
I shook my head. “Oh, I doubt you could achieve in a lifetime what Celia did for Aric in just a few months. The way I hear, they were always at it like wererabbits.”
Her skin flushed, from the crease between her puny chest up to her face. But then she took a breath and surprised me by calming,—odd, considering she wanted to munch on my jugular seconds before. Hmm, I guess I have to work a little harder.