Page 56

I freeze.

It’s enough to temporarily cut through the haze of my lust.

Sybil follows my gaze, her hands falling from my shoulders as several shadowy forms prowl forward. Olga sends up an orb of light, and under the reddish hue of it, I can see—fuck—five wolves.

“Sawyer?” Sybil says.

One of the wolves flicks his ears. He stalks forward, past Olga and Mai, who look a little less eager to play with shifters now that their massive animal forms are this close.

Drunk Sybil, however, shows no such reservation. She rushes forward, causing some of the other wolves to growl. Heedless of the danger, she throws her arms around the wolf she thinks is Sawyer.

I go stone-cold sober for an instant as visions of my best friend getting mauled fill my mind. But shockingly, the wolf begins to lick what it can of Sybil’s arm. It bows its head, nudging her with its snout, and its form shifts before our eyes. Hair recedes into skin, claws become nails, paws lengthen into hands and feet. The wolf’s back broadens and its face rounds.

When it’s over, a naked man kneels in Sybil’s arms, his skin coated in sweat, his breathing labored.

He glances up, and yeah, itisSawyer. Sybil squeals and hugs him tighter, gyrating against him while he breathes in her scent.

I nearly forgot about Sawyer—Sybil hasn’t talked much about the shifter since they got together a couple weeks ago, but it’s obvious now that she has a thing for him…and that he has a thing for her.

He nips lightly at her throat, and I tense, my magic beginning to pour out of me.

Infatuated or not, I will rip him off her if he dares?—

A growl cuts through my thoughts, dragging my attention away.

The largest wolf of the pack slinks forward, its gaze fixed on me as it takes slow, tentative steps. I can feel power in its gaze—it makes me want to kneel, to bare my neck, tosubmit. The shifter is making it abundantly clear that I’m not to fuck with its pack mate.

I fight the compulsion—the last thing I want is to make myself even more vulnerable before a pack of wolves—but I do drag my magic back into me. Once I do, the growling dies down.

The shifter, however, continues to slink forward, and without meaning to, I tense all over again.

“Don’t run,” Sawyer says softly from where he holds Sybil. “If you need to back up, do it slowly.”

I draw in a shuddering breath and nod. My skin is tingling in a decidedly unwanted way now that I’ve gained the attention of a fucking wolf.

Not just any wolf, I realize as I study its eyes. I remember looking at those lupine eyes only a couple of weeks ago.

“Kane,” I whisper.

At the sound of his name, he goes very, very still. A low sound comes from his throat. It’s close to a whine.

Shit, itishim.

Sawyer turns to Sybil and brushes aside one of her dark, silky locks. “I can’t believe you came,” he says quietly, though we can all hear him. “None of you are supposed to be here.” He doesn’t sound mad about that.

“My friends were interested in…getting to know your friends tonight,” Sybil says.

In response to her words, Kane’s ears flick.

He makes another whine that sounds almost…happy? His tail wags once, and I think I’m supposed to feel reassured by this?

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the other wolves approaching Mai, with her breasts bare, and Olga, whose corset is now loosened and partially sliding off her. They should be retreating—we all should be retreating—but instead Mai is beginning to stroke the valley between her breasts, and Olga is slipping her arms out of what’s left of her outfit.

I can practically smell the sex in the air.

This is such a terrible idea. I’m drunk and my pussy is pounding with need, but even I can see that.

Unfortunately, no one else seems to think so. Sawyer has lifted Sybil into his arms, the two making out as he wraps her legs around his waist while those damn wings of hers flutter away. No sooner has he gotten her into his arms than he lopes away into the darkness.