War of Hearts (True Immortality) - S Young Page 0,43

strange fluttering in Thea’s belly anytime she looked at him. She hadn’t encountered anyone like Conall and wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about his possible attraction to her.

She could try to use it as a weapon. Seduce and manipulate him. Thea flicked a look at him, her eyes traveling up his strong arms to his broad shoulders to his face. There wasn’t an inch of softness to him. Not an ounce of fat anywhere. His jawline was strong and angular. He had high, severe cheekbones and a proud Roman nose. His scar was on the cheek facing away from her, but she could visualize it and the way it only added to the aura of mean fierceness that surrounded Conall.

His gray wolf eyes were shockingly pale compared to his unruly dark hair, and he was sporting stubble on his cheeks after days on the hunt across Europe.

The massive height and broad shoulders, not to mention the dark clothing and biker boots, screamed danger, and Thea had noted the way most people at the hotel had taken a wide berth around the alpha.

She got it.

He was scary on first impression.

However, during breakfast his scar seemed to lose its harshness, becoming a part of the interesting features that made up his masculine face, and Thea enjoyed studying him, trying to figure him out.

Her eyes moved to his mouth where his lips pressed together in concentration. Or was that annoyance? Because she knew he could feel her study. She wondered what he’d do if she suddenly kissed him. Thea felt a flutter much lower than her belly and yanked her eyes away in consternation.

What was that? she grumbled to herself.

There was no way she was attracted to this belligerent werewolf who was determined to hand her over to her number one enemy without a goddamn care what it meant for her.

She curled her lip in disgust at the thought.

Jesus, she had more self-respect than that.

Well, that was that. She would not seduce the wolf onto her side. She couldn’t, anyway. He’d see right through the manipulation, the paranoid asshole that he was.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t be manipulated.

Thea had to admit she was curious about Conall and his sister and the pack he led. She knew only what she’d read in books about werewolves but knew little about the realities of pack life. She’d never been to Scotland, yet she’d met a lot of Scottish tourists and most of them could wax lyrical about Scotland for hours.

People, she discovered, loved talking about the things that made them happy. Perhaps if she found out more about Conall, if she showed an interest, that—along with her pretending she needed him to protect her—might soften him a little.

Friendship, Thea realized.

What she was suggesting was something akin to friendship.

Afterall, it was hard to hand over a friend to her worst enemy.

Would Conall see through it?

There was nothing Thea could do but try.

She looked over at him again and he shot her a quizzical look. “What is it, lass?” he asked impatiently.

“Ashforth is holding your sister prisoner, isn’t he?”

“How clever of you to deduce that from your eary-wiggin’.”

“‘Eary-wiggin’? Does that mean listening in?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Aye.” He flicked her another impatient look. “Earwigging.”

“It was hard not to. We were in the same room.”

He grunted.

Thea tried not to smirk. He had serious caveman qualities. “Tell me about her. About your pack. How does that work?”

Conall’s expression grew tight with obvious suspicion.

Jesus, he really was paranoid. Thea felt a prick of something that almost felt like hurt. She shouldn’t be. Hurt, that was. Why should he trust her with anything when she didn’t trust him?

And she definitely didn’t trust him.

However, she was wondering if maybe she’d stopped fearing him. Okay, she feared where he was taking her, whom he was taking her to, but Conall? No. She didn’t think so.

God, she was an idiot—listening to the words of a strange girl in a club and letting them dictate her feelings toward this werewolf. An image of him punching his clawed fists through the two vampires’ chests as if they were made of polystyrene instead of flesh and bone came to her. Never mind the fact he’d decapitated a powerful vampire with one swipe of his claws.

She needed to remind herself the bastard was just as deadly as she was.

More so. She’d tried not to kill the vamps. Conall had taken them out without even thinking about it.

“We’re going to be stuck in this car a while,” she said,