Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Swallowing, she wound her fingers in his hair. ‘Kiss me.’
He didn’t hesitate. He took her mouth in a sensual, hungry, explicit kiss. And the dick that had earlier slipped out of her began to harden against her clit.
He pulled his lips free, his eyes flaring with heat. ‘This time, you get slow.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A couple of hours later, Ripper lowered his cutlery to his empty plate and leaned back in his chair. Across from him at the dining table, Emberlyn was almost done with her meal. He’d never seen anyone tackle spaghetti with elegance, but she somehow managed it.
As he watched her, satisfaction rumbled in his belly. He liked feeding her. Liked seeing her enjoy something he’d made for her. But he also just plain liked watching her eat.
She really tasted every bite, chewing it slowly. Always sat upright, her posture perfect. There was no slurping, no scraping the dishware with utensils, no splashing sauce or dropping food.
He had the feeling her grace was innate, because it was not something she’d gotten from Millicent – that woman had been far from elegant.
Anger still lingered in his system. Fucking Michael had cheated on her. The guy would have known better than most how much Emberlyn had been let down by all those around her. He, her own mate, had become one of them.
Full moons had power over a werewolf’s control, yes, but not in a sexual sense. They might feel the drive to mate, but it wasn’t all-consuming. Still, some used that bullshit defense for cheating, and there were people who bought it.
If Michael had honestly expected Emberlyn to buy and forgive it, he either hadn’t known her well or he’d thought he could manipulate her into letting it go.
Had the guy openly admitted he’d had a moment of weakness and then apologized to Emberlyn, Ripper could have at least respected that Michael had owned his fuckup. Everyone made mistakes. It was part of life. But you couldn’t betray your mate and then call them dramatic for being crushed by it.
She could have spread the news of Michael’s betrayal far and wide. Could have wrecked his reputation. Could have turned other wolves against him. Could have made Opal suffer in any number of ways for any length of time.
Instead, Emberlyn had kept it quiet to ensure searches would still be launched for Michael. She had more compassion in her than people would guess, but Ripper supposed she preferred that it wasn’t common knowledge; never wanting to display what others might perceive as weakness.
He wondered if she would have grown up to be quite so vengeful and ruthless if the coven hadn’t targeted her the way they had since she was a small child. Probably not. Even as he wished that she hadn’t suffered such persecution, he still wouldn’t want her to be any other version of herself than the pitiless witch in front of him.
Having finished her food, she set her cutlery down on her plate and lifted her glass of water. Sipping at it, she eyed him. ‘You swore you’d stop being mad if I stayed for dinner. You’re not living up to your end of the bargain.’
‘It’s hard to not be pissed.’ He nudged her foot with his own beneath the table. ‘You’re mine to protect now. He hurt you. I want to beat the shit out of him.’
‘His current fate is far worse than anything you or I could have put him through.’ She set down her glass, her expression turning . . . inscrutable. ‘You haven’t asked if the rumor is true,’ she said, her tone careless.
‘What rumor?’
‘That I used magick to make him turn Rabid. Knowing he betrayed me, you must be wondering if in fact I did do that to punish him.’
Ripper felt his brow furrow. ‘The thought didn’t even enter my head.’ He leaned forward, planting his lower arms on the table. ‘You’re many things, Emberlyn, but you’re not callous.’
A hint of warmth blotted her eyes. ‘Watch it, Rip. I might start thinking you like me.’
He hiked up a brow. ‘That’s not already obvious?’
Snorting, she carefully slid her plate aside. ‘On another note, who taught you to cook?’
‘My aunt Yvette.’ She ran their clan’s diner, and she kept nagging him to take Emberlyn there for dinner.
‘That explains why you’re good at it.’
‘You’re not so bad in the kitchen yourself. Millicent gave you lessons?’
‘Very early on so I could feed myself. She spent a lot of time refining her craft.’
He felt his lips thin. Honestly, the more he learned about Emberlyn’s childhood, the more he disagreed with the general consensus that she was ‘raised’ by Millicent. Her grandmother had been too self-focused to truly raise anyone. ‘What made her so power-hungry?’
Running one finger down the stem of her glass, Emberlyn gave a delicate shrug. ‘Kage will tell you it was because she was a sociopath. Maybe that’s true. With Millicent, it seemed to be all about the rush. She was always trying to beat the initial high she’d felt on gathering more power the very first time. She kept chasing it, kept telling herself that the next thrill would finally be so much better. Only it never was.’