Wolf Slayer (The Order of the Wolf, #2)(17)

Aubrey felt a lump rise to her throat, emotion making it hard to swallow. If she opened her mouth now, she would choke on her words, words she didn’t have the nerve to say. She nodded and forced a smile. This man, how he unnerved her.

He didn’t force her to answer or respond, like he knew how hard this was for her. Behaving so differently from days before…all the harsh, cold, blunt words and attitude vanished, replaced with this generosity, understanding. She didn’t get it. He was throwing her off. Confusing her. It would be a hell of a lot easier to forget about him if he continued to act like an ass. Her heart was already at risk when he wasn’t behaving like Prince Charming.

He released her hand and jogged to the weapons. Moments later, he brought both to her, the smile never leaving his face. “You’re going to have to start from the very basics. I don’t even think this thing is strung properly.”

She nodded again, her mind immediately shifting to practical thoughts as she took his weapon in hand. “Um, yeah, we’ll need to fix this a bit.”

He was a good shot, once he got the basic understanding of how the recurve worked. He didn’t quite match her skill but his coordination was above average and he was even able to hit some of the moving targets after a few tries. He insisted on keeping a tally of shots. Of course, she was winning by a few dozen points.

He let his last arrow go and it went wide, missing the stationary target by at least a foot. She tried to stifle her laugher, but after hours of training with him, she’d loosened up, become more comfortable, relaxed.

“You laughing at me?” He turned on her, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging his lips.

She lifted her hand to her mouth, tried to stop herself. “I can’t help it. That shot was terrible.”

His smile broke across his face. “Yeah, that one was pretty pathetic.”

“You did very well, though. I would almost think you’d had some training before today.”

He shrugged. “Nah. Just fooled around when I was a kid. No formal training.”

Aubrey nodded, amazed by that idea. To fool around with a weapon was so unlike her experience growing up. All she’d known was training with weapons, bows, knives, guns. Always training. She’d never actually used her bow for entertainment like she had tonight. Playing games, competing for fun. And yes, she’d had fun. Being with Jaylon had been easy. She’d enjoyed it, wanted to do it again. Dangerous, dangerous thinking.

“Well, it’s getting late. I should probably get to bed. Got some prepping to do before the team arrives for you all to meet,” Aubrey said, more than a little reluctantly.

Jaylon nodded. “Sure, sure, but just one more round, okay?”

Aubrey smiled. “What? I’m not kicking your ass enough?” She giggled.

“All or nothing. One more shot.”

Aubrey shrugged. “Okay.”

He walked over to a tree and tugged a rope she hadn’t noticed before. A small target, the size of a hand, swung down like a pendulum—fast moving, almost a blur. Her instincts perked up, the challenge of hitting the target something that incited her competitive nature.

“You’re never going to hit that.”

Jaylon cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Ye of little faith.”

Aubrey laughed. “That’s going to be hard for me to hit.”

“I propose a bet.” Jaylon lifted his bow, motioned for her to lift hers. “If you hit the target first, you win and I’ll leave you alone after tonight.”

Aubrey’s smile faded.

“If I hit the target first, I get another night with you. A whole night. And you have to do whatever I want.”

“A whole night? Whatever you want?”

Jaylon nodded.

Aubrey gulped. Her thoughts whirred but she didn’t give herself more than a second to decide. “I accept.”

He motioned for her to raise her bow and he lifted his.

“On the count of three. One, two…three.”

They both let loose at the same time. The thunk of the arrow hitting true resonated within her body, sending a shiver down her spine.

Jaylon jogged to the target, one hand raised to catch it mid-swing. He stopped its movement, angled it so she could see the arrow embedded. Blue feathers. He plucked it free from the target, sauntered back to her, twirling it between his fingers, cocky assurance on his face. “I won.”

Aubrey nodded as she leaned toward him, putting up no resistance as he pulled her into his arms and devoured her with a kiss.

Yes, she thought. You did.

She shifted back to look at him, a memory suddenly popping into her head. “I thought you said the other night that you’d used a recurve before? That you were no stranger to hunting.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He smiled sheepishly.

She smacked him playfully on the chest, let him take her mouth again when she started to argue further. She couldn’t give him too hard a time for sharking her. She hadn’t exactly been honest with her skills either.

There was no way she’d let herself make that last shot—not with so much to lose.





Chapter Eleven

Darcy had insisted on eating outside to enjoy the unseasonable warm weather that night. Of course, Mayhem indulged. Mayhem always indulged when it came to Raven’s mate—like a father with a spoiled child, favoring her every whim. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Raven in action was even worse. Darcy was his princess, commanding him with just a look if it meant he’d see her smile.