Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,43

bed, near my feet.

I groan. “Well, for starters, I managed to spy without being seen.”

Gritting his teeth, he grinds out, “You know better. You could’ve been caught and God-knows-what would’ve happened to you.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind next time,” I mumble.

Ben chews on his lip and glances away, shaking his head. “I don’t want you out there again; it’s too dangerous.”

I rise up and rest on my elbows. “Look, I know you’re concerned about me, but I was careful, and I didn’t get caught. That’s the main thing. It’s over and done with. Besides, you haven’t heard the best part yet.” Because I can’t contain myself, I flash a toothy grin.

Ben gives me a sidelong glance. “I don’t like the sound of that. What is it?”

“Ulric and Daciana were bitten last night. Apparently, there was a group of men who set out to rid themselves of the wolf—yes, they think there’s only one—and they were all killed in the process. All except Ulric, Alaric, and Daciana. Alaric wasn’t even bitten, which is bizarre. Why would they spare him, but not the others?”

Ben curses under his breath. “So it’s begun . . .”

“Seems that way. Now, we just need to figure out when Alaric becomes a werewolf, and when he banishes Ulric and Daciana to the Otherworld. I have a feeling our powers will come in handy for this.”

Rubbing his forehead, Ben exhales harshly. “We need to go back to that spot in the woods, their secret hiding place. I think there might be more to it than meets the eye.”

“Um . . . you do remember what happened last time, right? How you almost died? Had we both been poisoned, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Ben stands up and paces the room slowly, contemplating. “It’s been bugging me. I mean, why that one particular spot? Why did they have all of those traps in place? Whatever they’re up to, it’s located in that corner of the woods, away from prying eyes. People don’t wander that far out into the forest, especially since most of Colchester believes the legend.” He continues on, murmuring mostly to himself and speculating as to what the witches are hiding.

And then I remember what happened with the statue. “Ben! Oh, my God. I think you might be right.”

He stops pacing and stares at me.

“When I was pulling you to safety, your body triggered one of the cobblestones, just like when you triggered the poisonous arrows, and the cherub statue slid out of place. There was a glowing light—it was blue, actually—radiating from below. Maybe whatever’s down there is the key to unlocking their ultimate plan, or their undoing.”

“We need to get over there and check it out immediately.”

I hold up one hand. “Just . . . let me rest. I’ve been out all night, in the cold, and I’d like to thaw out and catch some Z’s before we embark on another dangerous mission.”

To my surprise, Ben’s lips curve into a smile. “Fine, but let’s get you out of those clothes first.”

Unable to prevent the smirk on my face, I say, “Well, then, you better get on it.”

Ben strolls over to the side of the bed and, in one swift motion, yanks me upward and spins me around. My back facing him, he begins to remove the buttons holding up the top portion of my dress. I collect my hair, draping it off to one side, and impatiently wait as he finishes his task. Sliding out of my skirt and undergarments is easy. Ben, however, doesn’t touch my corset.

Glancing over my shoulder, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

He has this playful, trying-to-be-serious look on his face. “Hmm . . .” Assessing me up and down with his eyes, he manages to say, “I don’t know. I think I like the corset.”

“You want me to keep it on?” I’m stunned, actually.

Ben covers his mouth with one hand, thinking. Once again, he gives me an overall assessment with his gaze. All the way down, and then all the way back up again.

“Yeah, it’s staying,” he affirms. “I like it too much.”

Turning my body around to face him, I see he’s still in his clothes. “What’s all this?” I ask, gesturing toward how covered he is, while I’m on my knees, on a bed, pretty much naked.

“Baby,” he coos, his fingers lightly grazing my cheek, “I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for you.”

My stomach flip-flops. Honestly, it hasn’t hit me until now the importance