Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)

He stared for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, then grunted, tucking me against his chest, stuffing the sheet back over my head, to once again bark hostilely, “Now, what the hell?”

King Zeller—also, sounding pissed—stated gruffly, “I arrived here first from the hospital. Found Elder Farrar snoozing outside the door, came inside, and found you two as you are. I improvised, and intercepted everyone at the front door of the hotel, and took them to lunch explaining Ms. Jules was sleeping and we shouldn’t wake her. I left early—they’ll be up here any minute—to make sure you were awake by now, which you were not, and against Elder Farrar’s,” a quiet growl, “advice I tried to wake Ms. Jules.” It sounded as if he was moving away. “And now that I have,” another growl, “I’m leaving since no damn good deed goes without fucking pain somehow.” A pause. “And take the privacy spell down. It’s too obvious.” The door opened, and slammed shut.

“Dammit, Farrar,” Cain growled, and I felt him leaning, fumbling for something, crushing my face against his chest more, pushing my head back into the pillow, he paused, then the sound of plastic slamming on wood. “You got here two and half hours ago with her.”

Elder Farrar’s voice was snippy and irritated. “I wasn’t the only one to fall asleep. I told you both you had an hour.” A popping sound. “Not to mention, you got a warm body and damn bed while I got a cold breeze and a hard floor.” I heard odd sounds, and felt the touch of Mage magic, mystical dreams sizzling softly through the air. “And even though I knew you wouldn’t appreciate being woken, I didn’t expect you to hurt Ezra. I expect you to apologize to him for breaking five of his ribs, and then properly thank him for saving both your asses.” The magic stopped, and I heard him stomping across the room muttering curses under his breath. “He may be my headstrong son-in-law, but he is still my daughter’s husband, whom she loves dearly,” the door opened, “so make it fucking right.” It slammed shut.

“Jesus,” Cain muttered after a moment, then leaned back pulling the blanket from my head…and glared down at me. “I told you to wake me in ten minutes.”

Um… “Sorry?” When he only glared further, I decided to scowl right back. “I just fell asleep, dammit. I’m sorry, alright?” I thumped his chest once, and feeling a little guilty, I properly turned fault on him. “And you were suffocating me under there. They couldn’t see anything with your body on top of mine. And yet, you damn near mummified me.”

He continued glaring, and his wolf huffed quietly. “You look all disheveled and adorable from a proper fucking and a decent nap. I didn’t want them seeing you this way.” His wolf huffed again, and he lifted, maneuvering over me. “Now, help me get rid of these sheets, then go get in the shower.”

I blinked, and call me a damn girl, but hell…Cain, the badass wolf man, had called me adorable, so I mumbled, “Alright.” No argument from me, plus, it was partly my fault we were in this frantic-paced situation. “If you get the shower going, I’ll get rid of the sheets.”

His gaze flicking down my body, then back up, stalling at my neck. His wolf huffed quietly before he turned on his heel, striding fluidly with a lethal ease, his body striking built for the killer he was, but after a moment, he barked curtly over his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmured vaguely, blinking after him, but when he disappeared into the bathroom, moving as quickly as I could, I lifted from the bed, sore as hell now, even from that gentle lovemaking, my stomach pinching a bit with my motions, I moved through the ache, using a bit of my power to get rid of the sheets stained with our sexual fluids, then made my way slowly to the bathroom.

Cain walked out, apparently having taken a thirty second shower, wiping his glistening body off with a towel. “I’ll put sheets on the bed, and get your clothes for you.” He smacked my ass lightly as he walked past. “And hurry your injured ass up.”

I growled quietly, but did walk faster, hurrying to take my shower, and when I stepped out of it, I paused, my eyes flying wide, glancing at myself in the mirror for the first time. I had an enormous damn hickie on my neck, which covered, like, a fourth of it. My powers had been pretty much offline for the last three weeks, except for today’s events, which meant that it wasn’t going to go away very quickly. Drying off as swiftly as I could, I kept staring at it in the mirror, remembering his reaction to it…and it slowly dawned on me, he had kind of marked me in a sense, in an animalistic way. Tossing on the clothes he had brought me, oversized black velour pajama bottoms—ones that didn’t hug my waist too tightly—and a soft cotton, gray turtleneck, I moved outside, only to have fingers snapped at me, and navy blue’s glaring at my hair, with a barked exasperation, “You washed your hair?” More snapping. “Dry it, dammit.”

I quickly moved back into the bathroom to rapidly dry my hair, not because I was ordered to do so, but because I didn’t want to get caught…and, possibly, just maybe…have the surly ass taken away from me. When I exited a few minutes later, I stopped his gruff movements to the door to tell Elder Farrar to get rid of the privacy protection on the wall with a gentle hand on his stomach, and reached up, standing on tip toe, pulling his face down to mine, and kissed him gently…then nipped his bottom lip sharply, whispering, “My badass wolf man.”

Even as his wolf huffed quietly, he straightened, and brushed his gray t-shirt with rough motions, then grunted. “Yes, well,” he moved around me, speaking sternly over his shoulder, “don’t forget, you’re my spirit bitch.” And that was the first time he had said it, and it sounded, and felt, like an endearment.

After lying in bed with clean sheets, I snuggled up and watched Cain with concealed amusement. He had sat on the recliner with his book after speaking with Elder Farrar, who was also now back in the room, but he had kept glancing over at me, wearing his sexy as hell worn jeans again, his bare foot tapping with whatever he had been thinking about. He had gotten up after five minutes, Elder Farrar also watching him covertly with twitching lips as he started swiftly, methodically, and damn professionally, moving each trundle bed just the barest half foot in toward the king-sized bed this large suite had, even moving the bags perfectly next to them…so no one would notice the fact he moved his trundle within reaching distance to the bed Sin and I shared. He glanced at me with narrowed eyes, ordering gruffly, “Not a peep, honey.” Then, proceeded to test his theory, lying on his bed, reaching an arm out, touching me, then rolled off it, glanced at each of the beds with an approving air, then went to sit back on the recliner, kicking his feet up, lifting his book, muttering to Elder Farrar next to him on the couch, “Don’t even start.”