The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)(58)

Slowly, I got to my feet. I was startled to find a line of werewolves behind me, each waiting their turn to show respect to their new Alpha. I watched them, one by one, as they kneeled and gave Shaz their throat. It caused my heart to swell with pride. He was so much more amazing than I even knew yet. Everything about him told me so.

Julian finally struggled to his feet, leaning his weight heavily against Kylarai. He was in pretty bad shape. When at last they were the only two left to acknowledge Shaz, Ky moved to do so and Julian hung back. He was unwilling, which meant he forfeited his place and protection within our pack.

The silky smooth leopard fur rubbing against my thigh drew my gaze to Jez. She had been such a quiet observer that I’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Thanks Jez,” I whispered for her ears only. “I appreciate that you came here tonight.” I said a silent prayer of thanks that she hadn’t had to tackle me as I feared. With Shaz’ control compromised, I’d worried for my own.

She made a noise low in her throat, something between a purr and a growl. With a chuckle, I added, “You so better not be checking out my ass.” She hissed at me then, her tail flipping around wildly. I knew it was only because she had no voice to blast a retort at me.

Finally, Shaz padded over to me, pushing his muzzle into my hand. I smiled down into his enchanting face, that strange sadness welling up again. He actually didn’t look too bad. Julian was in worse shape.

“I’m not feeling up to running tonight,” I told him, my voice low. “If you feel good enough, stay and run with our wolves. I just need some time alone.”

He studied me, confusion and worry written all over his dirt-stained face. I smiled and kissed the tip of his wet nose. With a sigh of relief, I allowed the wolf within to have her way, and I once again embraced the change. Shaz nuzzled me, rubbing his side along mine. We were the mated Alpha pair. It seemed so surreal to think of it that way.

When he was certain that I meant what I’d said, he glanced around the clearing.

Shock shone in his eyes upon noticing that the other werewolves awaited his command to run. Giving me one last reassuring nudge, he loped out of the clearing with every other wolf close behind.

When even Jez had sauntered off into the night, I turned and headed back the way that would lead me home. Leaving Julian and Kylarai in the clearing didn’t feel at all right but staying would only wound his pride further. I trotted in between the tightly woven trees, listening to the voices of my pack, raised together in spine-chilling harmony as I went.

Chapter Twelve

The door creaked as I pushed it open. I’d had it repaired since the last time I’d been here. I’d broken it when I’d kicked it open. That had been months ago. In some ways, it felt like years and, in other ways, like it was just yesterday.

Despite the fact that he’d been dead for three months, Raoul’s scent hit me as I stepped into his house. Closing the door behind me, I counted to five and then turned around. I honestly wasn’t sure what I’d see.

Everything looked completely normal, as if nothing had been out of place. The furniture was the same. Everything was the same. The wolf tapestry that had once hung over the fireplace was gone though. Zoey Roberts had destroyed it.

Closing the door, I slipped off my shoes and crossed the front room until the kitchen came into view. The breath was crushed from my lungs as I took in the sliding glass door that led onto the patio. Though the glass was brand new and the mess long since cleaned up, I could see it in my mind like I was reliving the night Raoul died.

For a moment, I couldn’t think or make sense of why I was there. Something had drawn me. If anything, I needed to be at Raoul’s. I had put off coming here since Zoe killed him. But, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was supposed to be here now, if only for my own sanity. I’d thought that leaving the forest would upset my wolf, but being here, in Raoul’s house where I’d once spent a portion of my life, I felt at home.

Since he had left the house to me in his will, knowing his death was imminent, I had kept it maintained. I’d also refused every offer from those interested in buying. I had no intention of giving it up. Did that make me crazy, nostalgic or just unable to let go?

I flicked on a few lights as I went, flooding the space around me with a warm glow. I came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. Shaking my head, I continued on to the kitchen. I hadn’t been upstairs since Zoey murdered one of Raoul’s lovers, a fellow pack member, and I didn’t feel inclined to go up there now. New carpet and paint wouldn’t wash away the negative energy left in that room.

Raoul’s small den was just off the kitchen. It was where we had shared our first and last truly intimate moment. The door stood open, but it was pitch black inside the windowless room. A hot tear streaked down my face, and I touched it to be sure it wasn’t a vampy blood tear.

Turning on the kitchen light, I squinted against the sudden illumination. A quick glance around the kitchen showed me that it looked as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever taken place there. The beam of light shone into the den, and I followed it, pausing in the doorway.

I looked toward the couch in the corner. I could barely see it from where I stood.

Crossing the room, I turned on the lamp that sat on the corner of the desk, the same desk where Arys had found the confession letter Raoul had left me.

Against my better judgment, I pulled open the top desk drawer. It was filled with typical desk clutter like pens and post-it note pads. I closed it and went on to the next one.