Wolf Girl (Wolf Girl, #1)(33)

Interesting. They both honored each other’s custom.

Mental note taken.

“It’s good to see you, sir. This is my date, Demi Calloway.”

The fey’s eyes were so pale they were almost white—almost. They were a milk green that wasn’t really of this world. Mixed with his silver hair and cream suit, he looked wholly out of place. His ears were sharply pointed and there was a glistening sheen to his skin that made him look like he was wearing highlighter make-up all over. His gaze raked over my face, and for the slightest second his brows drew together before a bright smile pulled at his lips.

“Greetings, Prime Minister.” I placed my palm to my forehead and closed my eyes as he did the same.

When he extended his hand to shake mine, my wolf surged to the surface.

‘Don’t,’ a voice said. My own voice, her voice, the voice of my wolf?

What the fuck? I was going crazy.

Reaching out, I took his hand and a shockwave of electricity bolted up my arm. I hissed, trying to yank my arm back, when his palm clamped down on mine like a vise. Yanking, he pulled me closer and I stumbled forward into him.

“Hey!” Sawyer shouted as I crashed into the fey’s chest. His nose went into my hair and he inhaled deeply, moaning the slightest bit in my ear like a horny old man.

Before I could process what was happening, I was yanked backward against Sawyer’s chest.

“What the fuck was that!” Sawyer yelled, and some people nearby paused their champagne flutes midair.

The alpha stared at the prime minister accusingly, while the fey’s eyes pulsed from minty white to black.

“I’m feeling unwell suddenly. Mind if I lie down?” Locke asked, his voice a guttural sound that made my skin crawl.

“Certainly,” Mrs. Hudson said, ever the good hostess, as she escorted him around the crowd and into the lower deck with worried glances back my way.

When he was out of earshot, Sawyer’s father clicked his tongue. “I’m sorry about that, Demi. Prime Minister Locke is known for his obsession with young beautiful women, but that was not appropriate. Are you okay?”

I didn’t realize my hands were shaking until I looked down at them. I was still smooshed with my back against Sawyer’s chest, my breath coming out in ragged gasps.

Being held against my will was a huge trigger for me. I just needed a moment to get my bearings.

I nodded. “Just shook me up. If you’ll excuse me.” I pulled out of Sawyer’s grasp and gave his father a weak smile before walking away from the noise and lights and crowd. Being yanked into an old man and smelled was my worst fucking nightmare. I’d frozen in the moment. All of my self-defense training left me and I just … froze. Now that I was able to process it, I was pissed. How fucking dare he! Why would he do that? In public, at the party of a diplomat? According to my mother, the fey, wolves, and witches had a very thin peace treaty. The slightest thing could shake it up and throw us all into the dark ages again. My mother said the balance between the races was an ever-present dance. The vampires, trolls and dark fey formed an alliance shortly after, and the only thing that held it together was that if one broke away and went to the other side, it would be uneven and start a war that one side would most definitely win.

I held the railing as the cold wind whipped across my face.

Maybe I overreacted … I mean, Sawyer’s dad had said that fey were known for being sleazy with women. Maybe it was his custom…

But what about the buzzing through our hands? What was that?

“Did he hurt you?” a barely human growl called from behind me. I spun around, and upon seeing Sawyer with yellow eyes and pelts of dark gray fur rolling down his neck, I gulped.

I shook my head. “Just spooked me.”

His brow furrowed, eyes going molten lava, absent of any blue. His wolf was fully in charge now.

“What did he whisper to you?” His voice was so freaky, I’d never heard anything like it before. It was like talking to a bear, if that were possible.

I shook my head. “Nothing … just smelled me and moaned.”

Sawyer’s canines descended, pressing onto his bottom lip. “That motherfucker, I’ll kill him.”

Oh shit.

Reaching out, I grasped the lapels of his jacket. “It’s all good, I’m totally fine.”

The boat suddenly stopped with a slight jerk and I frowned.

Sawyer held out his hand to me, which had lengthened to claws. “We’re leaving. Eugene is lowering the row boat.”

My eyes widened. “No. Oh my God, Sawyer I’m fine. We don’t—”

“I’m not fine.” His jaw was so tight I thought he might break his teeth. “If we stay, my wolf will shift and rip out the prime minister’s throat.”

Holy fucking shit.

“Okay … I mean, when you put it that way. We should probably go.” He took a shuddering breath as I grasped his hand, and then we were moving to the back of the boat.

“But your dad’s birthday—”

“He understands,” Sawyer growled.

Before I knew it, Sawyer and I had crawled down a ladder and into a rowboat with Eugene at the helm.

“Get us the hell out of here,” Sawyer snarled.

Eugene looked at me, perplexed, but nodded.

When we were about fifty yards away, the yacht started up again and sailed away as the sun set on the horizon.