Moon Claimed (Werewolf Dens #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,87

up as I plummeted down.

Water exploded as I landed and lost the battle to hang on. The tube shot from under me, disappearing, and there was only a second to see that Wade and Cameron had landed safely before the water forced me over the second drop.

A second scream and this time, I plunged underwater at the bottom.

You said we wouldn’t get wet. My wolf panicked, kicking our legs senselessly as air escaped us.

Calm down.

I don’t like it!

I seized control as Wade and Cameron landed behind me. I swam upward, lungs bursting.

The water dragged me over the third cascade, and I went, unable to scream because I needed air so badly.

I plummeted through the water and lost no time kicking for the surface. Coughing, I swam for the closest bank where we’d attracted a small crowd of tourists.

When I neared, hands heaved me from the water. The good juju gave him away. I panted on the rock, coughing.

“Claws, little bird,” Sascha said, unclipping my pack.

Crap.

I tucked my claws away and checked in with my frightened wolf. Are you okay?

She whined in response.

We’re okay, I told her.

Sascha helped me stand.

I shoved my sopping hair back. “Thanks.”

I located Wade and Cameron down at the bridge. They looked back and I waved.

No idea where my tube was.

“What was that?” Sascha said, holding my pack.

Not Sascha. Greyson.

I looked up into black eyes. His grip on my arm was iron-clad as he hoisted me over the barricade. Fully suited, he jumped over the railing like an Olympic athlete and guided me down the street.

I craned to see back, but my friends were out of sight.

“I heard you scream,” Greyson seethed. “I felt you moving away from Deception Valley.”

“Where are you taking me?” I peered around, sincerely hoping a steward wasn’t watching this exchange.

I shouldn’t have asked.

We entered The Dens, and I grimaced at Hairy who, after one look at the Luther beside me, backed the fuck up.

Greyson marched me between tables of gaping patrons to the staff quarters. I yanked free when we reached his office.

“What’s your problem?” I hissed. “There was no need for that.”

“There’s a need,” he disagreed in a savage tone, dropping my pack.

I was crushed against his hard chest, eyes wide as his arms wrapped around me, palms splaying across my back.

Warmth pulsed between us, easing my tension. Chin on my head, Greyson sighed, stroking my hair and back in turn. That apparently wasn’t enough to reassure him. Scooping me up, he took us to the green, leather couch lining the far wall, and sat us down.

“I’m soaking.” But my grip on his suit jacket tightened.

Why did it have to feel so right?

And unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

Perfect.

Off-limits.

Doomed to fail.

“My friends will search for me.” I pulled back, averting my attention.

Greyson captured my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “I thought you were leaving the valley.”

That’s why they were so upset? “I can’t leave the valley.”

He glanced away. “I know. And even knowing that, we feared.”

My reply was soft. “I see.”

“I want to bite you, Andie,” he growled. “I want to chase your wolf and claim her with my fangs.”

I shivered, genuinely afraid at the thought. His fangs were fucking massive.

His nostrils flared, and his eyes blazed brighter still.

“You like my fear.” I glared, crossing my arms.

Greyson didn’t deny it. “The scent drives me wild. Wild to protect you. Wild for you. But I am of the understanding that biting you without permission could make you very upset.”

Sascha had been at work. I almost smiled. “Yes, I would be upset. It’s my body, and I get to decide when things like that happen.”

Greyson kissed my forehead. “I will wait as long as I can, but I recognise neither human nor wolf custom, only instinct. What is offensive to a human is rarely offensive to a wolf.”

I had a living, breathing predator within me now. She certainly didn’t share my boundaries, likes, and dislikes. Especially pertaining to buttholes and who saw them. “Thanks for telling me, I guess.”

His eyes darkened once more, and honey returned.

“Andie.” Sascha’s smooth tone curled my toes.

Our scents swirled, dancing and touching and merging. The combination made my head swim.

His lips were inches from me.

So painfully close.

Should I kiss him?

Would he let me?

I’d felt his mouth on my body, and judging by both our scents, we both wanted a repeat of what happened that night.

Thinking about it made it hard to breathe.

“Are you thinking of my head between your thighs?” Sascha whispered, pressing a kiss in