Let Us Prey: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #2) by Vivienne Savage

Author:Vivienne Savage
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: eagle shifter, paranormal romance, curvy, interracial, shapeshifters, shifter, bbw, military romance
Publisher: Payne & Taylor
Published: 2015-07-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

~Ian~

Leigh smelled the way I imagined an angel would smell; light and sweet with lavender undertones teasing across my senses when I awakened with her tucked beside me. After a moment of admiring her peaceful features while she slept, I disentangled from her body and crawled from the bed.

Fuck, I hated leaving her after our first night in bed. Disgruntled with my own plans, I showered and returned to my bedroom to dress. Indecision had me torn between making enough noise to awaken her on accident or intentionally rousing her for a goodbye kiss. I did neither. I clothed myself as silently as a ghost and jotted down a message on the notepad beside the bed.

Leigh,

My cell phone is the ideal way to reach me when I am away, but if technology lets us down, you’re welcome to call my associate in San Antonio. It’s the best way to get me if you require my immediate response for any emergency matters.

I taped a business card to the corner of the note. The matte rectangle announced the name and contact information of Argus Prescott, the alpha of San Antonio’s wolf pack. He led an extravagant lifestyle afforded by old money and inherited wealth. Thanks to traffic, I arrived a little before noon.

The pack lived in the middle of nowhere far beyond the city limits in a massive, southern plantation style home. I pulled off the highway and punched a code into the security panel by the gate. Automated, heavy wrought iron gates swung open to allow me access onto a half-mile long drive. A dozen wolves — all omegas and low in the pack hierarchy — roamed freely on the grounds. Two of their gray faces watched my arrival from the bushes as I parked.

“Ian?” a feminine voice called.

My attention snapped to the opening door. It framed the youngest Prescott, Ceres, a sweet girl I’d once held on my lap as a child. She popped out onto the porch barefoot, clothed in only cutoff jeans and a sleeveless pink tank.

“Hey, sweetheart!” I greeted her.

With an excited squeal, she raced toward me across the drive. I caught my goddaughter mid-leap and swung her around in a circle while she giggled. Too much time had passed between my visits, and thanks to the obligations of my job, I’d missed out on her graduation from veterinary school.

“Uncle Ian! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

“Last minute plans,” I told her. “I also came to the profound conclusion that I don’t visit you guys enough these days now I’m back in the states for a while.”

“You really don’t. Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet,” she announced with a big smile on her face.

Her longtime friend and admirer, Thomas, met us at the door. Even though they were both just a couple years shy of thirty, I still referred to them as kids. I’d known him since he was a chunky nerd tagging along with her for ice cream during my visits.

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