Charmed Wolf by Aimee Easterling (best ereader for pdf TXT) 📕

daily breakfasts the same way I’d shut down his chance at becoming Beta.

Unfortunately, it was an apology the Alpha couldn’t accept.

“I don’t have time.” As I spoke, I tried to brush past him. But he stepped into my path.

Bad move. The pack couldn’t afford me to ignore the slightest hint of challenge from someone who had crossed the line once already. Not here in plain view of half the clan. Not while scratches and scrapes on all of us reminded them of last night.

The throbbing behind my eyes sped up, but I ignored it while using lupine speed to strike the plate and mug out of Ash’s hands. Then I stepped into the shattered ceramics, grinding shards beneath my feet.

“Don’t tempt me,” I growled.

I was in his face. Far too close for comfort.

And Ash shriveled. One moment he was my friend. The next, he’d become a subordinate werewolf accepting a rightful smackdown. “Alpha.” His voice was a thread. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

“Forgiven.”

But not forgotten. I didn’t rest a hand on his shoulder. Didn’t call him by name.

Instead, I continued on my aborted trajectory. Swept past murmuring shifters and humans on the factory floor. Their voices bit into my headache like thorns into the center of an injured paw pad. Perhaps that’s why I only realized halfway to my office that most of them weren’t murmuring about me and Ash.

“...buyer.”

“Do you think he’ll....?”

“Of course he can afford it. Did you see his car? Wow!”

My eyebrows shot up, the sharp pain at my temples lessening for one split second. Despite everything, it appeared Willa had come through with her task of lining up a potential glitter purchaser.

“Alpha,” my secretary called as I swept into my antechamber and past his desk. “There’s....”

“Someone in my office? Willa and a potential buyer?”

His eyes widened as if I was a fortuneteller. “Willa said to warn you. She said you weren’t aware of the morning meeting.”

I smiled, letting my teeth lengthen to lupine proportions. “And you’ve warned me. Good work.”

My secretary straightened, his inner wolf glowing. I pushed open the door...and walked straight into Rune.

HE CAUGHT MY SHOULDERS. To steady me, I assumed. Still, my wolf should have reacted to the memory of his powerful alter-ego. Should have bristled with warning. After all, his palms were far too close to my throat.

Instead, she—I—leaned in closer. Sniffed for the persimmon aroma that was strangely absent. Relaxed into the reality of Rune’s presence even without the seductive scent.

In response, one of his hands rose to brush across my forehead. As if he could feel the pain there. When the fleeting touch faded, my headache was gone.

“Ru—” I started. Then I remembered that the door was still open and that Willa had to be invisible but very much present on the other side of his broad shoulders. “Butch,” I corrected even as I forced reluctant feet to take two long steps backwards. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m interested in glitter,” he murmured. And to my combined pleasure and chagrin, he reached out a second time.

His hand—so warm—flicked something off my cheekbone. Without the pain of a headache to distract me, my breath caught as our skin collided. The mote of glitter sparkled in the sunlight like the human imagining of faery magic.

But faery magic was nothing like glitter. Glitter was ephemeral. Deals with the fae were firm and reliable, demanding and unwilling to bend.

Faery magic mandated that an Alpha’s libido was irrelevant. So I hardened my voice as I turned away from Rune. “Don’t overstep.”

“You know each other?” Willa asked, invisible behind me as I closed the door more firmly than I needed to. As I took a deep breath and forced human guardedness to mute my wolf’s enthusiastic response.

“Unfortunately,” I answered, the word a growl. After all, I shouldn’t be glad to see Rune. Shouldn’t have been careful about his true name either. Willa should know it. Should have the power to stop this half-fae, half-werewolf in his tracks.

Still, I didn’t call him Rune, even alone with my trusted Beta. “Butch,” I informed Willa, “is here under false pretenses.”

And that’s all I needed to say. A blade was at Rune’s throat, Willa’s hand steady as her full focus turned on the invader. “Other packs are using humans now to do their spying?”

“He’s a wolf,” I corrected.

Willa leaned in closer, the gesture so ominous it would have made anyone in the pack but me descend into a whimpering pile of goo. Rather than biting, though, she sniffed.

And why did that make me jealous? Just because her nose was near the soft skin at the crook of Rune’s neck?

“He doesn’t smell like a wolf,” she informed me.

I raised one eyebrow and Rune shrugged. He hadn’t taken his eyes off mine, never mind Willa’s knife and her threat to his unprotected jugular. “Sleight of hand,” he murmured.

Abruptly, persimmon infused the room.

Chapter 8

My knees weakened. It was as if all the scent he’d bottled up—using what? fae magic?—had been released at once.

And with that release came a burst of sexuality so extreme my mouth watered. Literally filled with digestive juices.

I swallowed, reminding myself I was simply hungry. Perhaps I should have grabbed those pancakes after all rather than slapping them out of Ash’s hands.

There was no food here, though. So I addressed my Beta. “You may go, Willa.”

“Alpha.” Her knife remained at Rune’s throat. “I didn’t realize earlier, but he has a sword scabbarded beneath his shirt. This wolf is a danger to the pack.”

He wasn’t though. Rune might be sneaky and relentless, but he’d sworn on his true name that he meant no harm to our clan.

“Willa,” I repeated, her name a warning.

She bowed her head rather than testing me. Her knife disappeared into her clothing. “Alpha.”

The door closed behind her. Then we were alone.

“You should sit,” Rune murmured. While I was facing down Willa, he’d pulled out the comfortable chair I kept by the window for stolen moments of serenity. Had