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Another growl left Artem’s throat, this time a little louder than before. “That doesn’t sound like an apology to me.”

Breighly put her hand up to stop the warrior. “I don’t need an apology from a weak man,” she said, looking the elite square in the face. “Just don’t ever look in my general direction again, or I will claw out your throat.”

The man’s face paled, and he hastily took his leave, saying something about barbarians. She watched the back of his head disappear into the crowd, wishing she could have sliced into it with her claws.

Asshole.

Breighly spun on Artem. “What was that?” she asked. Confusion lingered on his face. “You do not get to do that for me.” Her mouth pulled together.

“I wasn’t trying to jump in.”

“That’s exactly what you did. I can handle myself.”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Oh, I know you can,” he said. “There are no doubts about that. I just wanted an opportunity to punch an elite prick without getting reprimanded for it. It always looks better if I am defending someone else.”

A harsh laugh left her throat. “So you were using me?”

“Just like you did with me the other night.” His dark eyebrows lifted momentarily, and she saw something genuine in his features before a pridefulness settled back on his face.

She bit down on her lip. Okay, that was true. He had a point. She had sort of used him as a distraction to forget about how she truly felt inside. That’s all she had been doing lately.

“Don’t take it personally,” she said, allowing her eyes to roam the room again as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“No, but you see…” He stepped a little closer, causing her attention to snap back to him. “I have taken it personally. I have never been kicked out of bed before.” A dangerous twinkle glittered in his eyes.

“Well, now you have, and you need to get over it,” Breighly snapped. “And fast.”

“I have tried,” he admitted, and a small laugh graced his lips, tugging up the corners. “Thorin knows I have tried to get over it. But I have failed miserably. And somehow, I just find myself back to where I was, thinking about you.” He placed the knife that he had been holding back into his belt. She watched as the white strain of his knuckles returned to their normal colour.

“Then maybe you need to try harder, hunter.”

“Maybe the best way to help me to get over it is for it to happen one last time…wolfy.”

His smooth-as-silk words provoked every part of the wolf that she had in her. Every part of wolf blood that pumped through her veins called to his suggestion.

Fuck.

She stepped in closer so that her chest was flush with his abs. “I don’t think you could handle round five—or however many times you falsely counted to feel man enough.” Breighly smiled, knowing his eyes were on her lips, his breathing laboured as she pushed her breasts against him. “I don’t think you have it in your locker to satisfy the wolf in me. So maybe you should quit while you’re ahead.”

A spine-tingling grin slashed across his face, causing her heart to dive into her stomach.

“Then maybe you should give me one more chance to prove you wrong.” He raised his hand and coasted the back of his knuckles down her arm. There was a skull tattooed on the back of his hand. She had to coil every muscle in her body to command herself not to push her hips towards him.

She had to command herself not to feel…stimulated.

But she was.

What in the Mother of all Gods was he doing that was so weirdly working for her? She couldn’t pin-point it. She looked at the tiny silver nose ring that curved out from his nostril. He was so gallantly handsome that she couldn’t deny it. He knew he was too. He was as strong as any warrior should be, and she would put all of her coin on it that he had made it to the top of the Hunter Selection.

The best of the best.

Breighly debated if she loved or hated the fact that he was a little cocky. Already knowing the answer, just not wanting to admit it, she looked around the room. Her father was occupied in conversations that looked formal, and beside him stood Waylen and Roman. Something ticked in her jaw at the vision of her standing there beside her brothers as a woman who could lead her faction just the same way a man could.

But that would never happen so long as the Alpha gene never rose to power in the female wolf.

A little fire kick started in her stomach, and she looked back to the hunter who she was pressed against, his stare still on her face.

She needed a distraction again. This ball was expectedly monotonous and he…was not.