Burned by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,64

nearby cubs who playfully wrestled on a patch of grass. Instead he watched the slender female who was perched on a fallen log, monitoring the playful cubs and occasionally making scratches on a clipboard she had balanced on her knees.

She was a striking beauty with her long curly red hair that blazed in the sunlight with a rich gold threaded through the strands. Her eyes were a pale green and her skin was soft and satiny, except for the scars that ran from her mid-cheek down to her throat.

The first time he’d seen her, he’d noticed the burn marks she tried to hide with her hair, but he’d instantly dismissed them. Instead, it was the rest of her satin skin that had captured and held his attention. A perfect cream that made his cat long to lick it until it was rosy with passion.

His intense arousal had set off all sorts of alarms in the back of his mind. Not to mention pissed him off.

This female had worked with Locke, kidnapping and torturing his people, along with innocent humans. And for all he knew, she was still working for the bastard.

It was obscene that his cat would instantly fall in lust with her.

And even more obscene he’d been unable to take another female to his bed since she’d arrived in the Wildlands nearly a month before.

He swallowed a growl as he sensed the approach of his leader.

Like him, Raphael was a Suit, but the two males couldn’t be more different. Raphael was tall, with a golden beauty and easy charm that made him the perfect Diplomat. Michel, on the other hand, was three inches shorter with broad shoulders and muscles that bulged beneath the New Orleans Saints sweatshirt and faded jeans he was wearing. His dark hair was skull-shaved and his eyes a dark green rimmed with black. His skin was naturally a deep copper tone, with a tattoo of a crouching puma inked on his chest.

He was also more aggressive than most Suits, which was why his brothers had been shocked when Raphael had made him a spy. But while Michel might not have a golden tongue, or the ability to mix among the humans, he could scale a building, disable the surveillance, and take out a dozen guards without breaking a sweat. Hell, he’d broken into the Oval Office just to prove he could.

“Should I ask why you spend so much time watching Dr. Young?” Raphael demanded, folding his arms over his chest as he studied Michel’s tight expression.

“I would think that was obvious,” he muttered.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Raphael drawled. “She’s lovely.”

A strange sensation tightened around Michel’s chest, his gaze never wavering from the female. She wasn’t lovely.

She was stunning.

It wasn’t just the delicate features or the fiery hair. It was the intense intelligence that shimmered in her green eyes and the grim resolution etched on her face.

This female was a survivor.

His cat was dangerously fascinated. Thankfully, his brain was connected to his human side. Which meant he wasn’t going to be blinded by a pretty face and perfect tits.

“I don’t trust her,” he said, his voice hard as he watched her lean forward and lightly run a finger down the nearest cub’s back.

Over the past two weeks she’d requested the opportunity to do non-invasive research on the children who had been created in Locke’s laboratories. She’d promised that she only wanted to make sure that they were healthy and growing at a steady rate.

“Have you forgotten that she has given us information on our enemy that we would never have discovered without her?” Raphael demanded. “And that her skills have helped us heal our people?”

Michel turned his head to meet Raphael’s determinedly bland expression. Were his lips twitching?

Did the annoying shit think Michel’s obsession with the female was funny?

“She’s shared just enough to earn a place in the Wildlands,” Michel snapped. “For all we know she’s a very clever spy who’s trying to lull us into complacency while she gathers intel to send to our enemies.”

“So cynical,” Raphael murmured.

“Because it’s what I would do,” Michel said between clenched teeth.

“True.”

Michel made a sound of frustration. He didn’t understand why everyone else was so eager to forgive and forget when it came to Dr. Chelsea Young.

She was the enemy.

No matter what his cat might be trying to tell him.

“Besides, she’s had Pantera blood. She’s admitted that she’s developed heightened senses and she’s stronger than she was before her injections,” he pressed. “And there’s that little matter of