Desiring Red (A Dark and Dirty Tale) by Kristin Miller

Author:Kristin Miller [Miller, Kristin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Love triangle, Alpha male, Scorched, werewolf, werewolves, erotic, forbidden love, Entangled, shifter, sexy, erotica
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-05-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Reaper

I’m trapped inside the four walls of Ivy’s bedroom, but it may as well be a cage. My thoughts spiral out of control as I pace the length of her room, from the bathroom to the hearth and back again. I count the ticking hand of the clock beside the bed. Curse fat snowflakes as they gather in the forest outside the castle. Sit by the raging fire and stare into the flames.

If Lukas wants Ivy, if he touches her, I’ll implode.

He could have any one of the pre-shifters. That is his ancient right and privilege as Alpha. But if he chooses Ivy—the only woman who has ever captured my interest—I’ll tear him in half, right through skin and sinew. Hate bubbles up inside me as I slam my fist into the hearth’s stone mantel.

The door clicks softly, and before I know it, I’m charging across the room and jerking it open.

“Reaper, you’re here,” Ivy says, stepping inside. There’s something in the way she says my name that plays on my frayed nerves. She’s not happy to see me, she’s…guarded. “Have you been waiting long?”

For her? “Feels like forever.” My vision fills with a blood red haze and I can’t shake it. “How’d it go?”

“Well”—she pushes past me, her cloak fanning out, ghosting over the hardwood behind her—“I wasn’t submissive or timid or shy. I was the woman you told me to be.”

“And?”

“I think he liked me anyway.”

Rage thunders through me, rattling my bones as I clutch the door handle tight. As it turns in my death grip, I’m amazed it doesn’t rip off the door. Pushing it closed, I twist the lock and spin on my heel, clenching my hands into fists.

“What makes you think he liked you?” I grit between clenched teeth, but I already know the answer.

Of course Lukas was taken with Ivy. She’s unlike the others. She’s pure. Innocent to our practices and traditions, and it’s beyond refreshing. She’s breathtakingly beautiful and has enough fire and passion flowing through her veins to end this dreadful winter. More than that, she’s not trying to be something she’s not.

Without answering my question, she disappears into the bathroom. The faucet turns on, and a few minutes later she reemerges, holding a glass of water to her lips. She takes a slow sip, then another, and then with a curious gleam in her eye, sets the glass on the bedside table.

“Intuition,” she answers finally with a shrug. “But I don’t know how his interactions went with any of the other pre-shifters so I can’t say for sure that I’ll be the one he chooses.”

The next words need to be spoken, but they threaten to tear me apart. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not true.”

She draws her bottom lip into her mouth. “We talked about liquor and sat in front of the fire. It wasn’t anything like what I expected.”

As a growl rolls through my chest, I pace in front of the windows. Much more of this and I’ll wear a path in the hardwood.

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