Page 66 of Wild Games

My grip loosens a fraction as I glare at him with narrowed eyes. Just enough for him to pull in a wheezing breath. His wolf is there, in his eyes, but it’s not pushing forward, afraid to take on the monster it sees staring back at it.

“Fuck,” Camille gasps, in relief. “Raven, are you alright?”

But then I catch the look in his eyes as they dart in her direction. Even choking, there's satisfaction there. Victory. The corner of his mouth twitches, trying to form a smile.

"Just friends?” I repeat, and both Camille and Zane nod. But there's more. I can feel it in the sudden spike of Camille's anxiety, and the way Zane shifts his weight, remaining silent. “And?”

Finally, Camille answers.

"And my ex."

Red bleeds in from the edges as my wolf roars forward, trying to shut me out completely. This male had her. Touched her. And now he's here, looking at her like he still could.

I curl my fingers tighter and tighter still, the shouting in the background fading away as my vision fractures like splintered glass, red and black bleeding together, until I can’t see or hear anything but the wolf in my head who’s baying for blood.

29

CAMILLE

My heart skips a beat as Jax’s hand tightens around Raven’s throat. His eyes have gone dark at the edges. His wolf is in full control. I can see it in the way his eyes have gone unfocused, the way his body has locked up tight.

“Jax.” I keep my voice calm. Moving slowly, I place my hands on his chest. His heart hammers under my palms, too fast, too hard. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t respond. Raven’s face has gone puce, his cheeks looking swollen, and his eyes bulging. His hands grip Jax’s, trying to pry his fingers away, but his struggles are weakening, his wolf retreating in the face of a threat he’s too scared to face.

I ease closer and stroke my hands up Jax’s chest, applying gentle pressure as I press my body to his. “Come back to me. I’m right here.”

A growl rumbles through him, vibrating against my hands, before I feel the tiniest shift. A flicker of recognition. His gaze slides from Raven to me, just for a second, but it’s enough.

“That’s it.” I keep my voice soft and soothing. One hand slides up to cup his face. “I need you to let go now. For me.”

His grip loosens a fraction, and Raven sucks in a wheezing breath.

“Good. That’s good.” I stroke my thumb along Jax’s jaw, and his eyes return to mine, this time, focusing on me completely, and not the man he’s trying to kill. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

Finally, Jax’s fingers uncurl, even as he continues to glare at Raven, who crumples to the floor, gasping and coughing. He scrambles away until his back hits the wall, one hand massaging his bruised throat, shaking his head in disbelief at being manhandled like that.

I doubt he’s ever met a wolf like Jax.

The marks on his neck are already darkening to purple, perfect impressions of Jax’s fingers against his skin, but with enhanced healing, they’ll be gone by morning. Raven’s usually perfect hair is disheveled now, and his neatly pressed clothes are wrinkled and askew. He doesn’t look so smug now, and he certainly doesn’t look like a tough guy enforcer.

“He’s insane.” Raven’s voice is hoarse, raw. “He tried to fucking kill me.”

I step in front of Jax, keeping my body in contact with his.

“You were asking for it, goading him.” I look toward Zane, then back at Raven. “You knew exactly what would happen, and you did it anyway. You just didn’t think you’d get your ass handed to you.”

Raven’s lips press together, displeased with my blunt assessment, but he doesn’t correct me because he can’t.

“That doesn’t excuse?—”

Was he always so whiny? Or is this new?

“Your wolf pissed himself. Just admit it. An enforcer’s wolf, submitting to a so-called feral one. That’s why you’re mad.” I reach behind me and take Jax’s hand in mine, and he bands one arm around my waist from behind, breathing me in.

Raven’s mouth opens and closes before Zane clears his throat, and Raven’s attention goes to our superior instead.

Raven struggles to his feet. His legs shake slightly, and he uses the wall behind him to support his weight. “Who attacks someone like that in front of the head enforcer? He’s moon mad, or on the verge of being.”