Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

A s Moya climbed the inside stairs to her apartment, a male's deep smooth voice came from down the hall. "Good. Now a double-punch to the gut."

What in the Mother's soft earth…"

A grunt came from—oh, from Patrin and Fell's apartment. The door wasn't shut, and she stopped to look. Snoopy? Why yes, yes, she was.

What a sight. Mateo and Alvaro faced off against Fell. The cubs were maybe an inch shorter than her five-three—so nearly a foot shorter than the powerfully muscular shifter-soldier. Fell's expression was so cold and deadly.

He wouldn't hurt them, would he?

No, she knew better. They'd spent a fair amount of time together now, and she'd learned he had a tender heart for younglings.

He turned his head just far enough to glance at her. And she saw the amusement in his eyes.

Fell was having fun.

"Yah!" Mateo yelled and hit Fell in the belly twice.

Fell didn't seem to even feel the blows. "Better."

Off to one side, Patrin watched, arms crossed over his chest. "Aye, better. Could you feel how much stronger it was?"

Mateo nodded. "Uh-huh. Only I didn't even knock him back or anything."

"Cub, I have trouble knocking him back." As usual, Patrin had a smile on his face, and when he looked at his brother, Moya could practically feel the love there.

And it made her go all soft inside.

Patrin turned, his dark gaze meeting hers. Holding her gaze the way he always did, the way that sent tiny zings through her bloodstream. "Moya."

"Um. Sorry to have interrupted."

"Hey, Moya, I got Fell to grunt when I hit him." Alvaro ran over to give her a hug, enthusiasm making him bounce.

"That's…ah, great." She'd had fighting lessons from her brothers. So why did hearing that Alvaro punched Fell make her want to cringe? She turned and asked, "Fell, are you all right?"

"Aye."

She lifted her chin, giving him her Look.

His sigh was inaudible as he struggled for more words. "They're improving. I'll have some bruises."

Oh, look at the cubs puffing up with pleasure at the compliment. So cute. She gave Fell a smile, not only because he'd talked, but because he'd chosen words that made the younglings feel good about themselves.

And if she wanted to pull up his shirt and see if he really did have bruises on that granite hard, ripped abdomen, she'd keep that thought to herself.

Girl, back those paws right up.

"Time for you two to scamper home to Talitha and Eileen." Patrin rocked back as two cubs thumped into him for quick hugs. "Thanks, Top Dog," Mateo said.

The lads turned to Fell, and as he got hugs, too, the smile-crease in his cheek erased his deadly expression. He was so good with the cubs.

Well, okay, so was Patrin…even with dominance streaming off him. Or, partly because of it. Pups felt safer with an authoritative wolf in charge. It was part of being canine.

Probably part of why her inner wolf craved being dominated.

Yes, she was a mess.

As the cubs rocketed out of the apartment, she smiled at Fell. "If you two want another cooking lesson, come on over. Maybe in an hour?"

Cleaning up wasn't nearly as fun as cooking, Fell thought as he wiped down the counters. Still, it was rather pleasant. Moya had put on some music—something she called Abba—that was full of energy.

At the sink, Patrin scrubbed pots while she put away the condiments.

There were no leftovers to put away. They'd cooked then devoured the one-pot chicken and rice dish, enjoying the Spanish seasonings.

Satisfaction filled Fell. He'd done most of the actual cooking while Patrin chopped vegetables for the salad. He was pretty sure he could make this dish again—even with the interesting Spanish spice mixture. "Does your mother live in town?"

"No." Moya turned from the fridge. "She fell for a couple of males who were visiting the west, and when they returned to Colorado, she went with them."

Patrin set a pot in the drainer and looked over his shoulder at her. "Do you stay in touch?"

"Oh, we call each other every month and write now and then. It's wonderful to see her in love and having fun." Her smile at the thought of her mother was fond.

With an effort, Fell pushed away the memory of their mother. How she died. For a minute, he scrubbed at a stubborn spot on the counter. In the past, wolf, it's in the past.

Finished cleaning, he turned to see what was left to be done.

Singing, "Take a chance on me", Moya was putting away the spices in a cupboard.

Finished washing, Patrin dried his hands, his gaze on how Moya's hips were rocking side-to-side with the beat of the music.

Fell was watching too. She had a gorgeously rounded ass, and when it moved like that? Nice. So were the full breasts beneath her bright pink top. He couldn't help thinking of her pinned between him and Patrin as they did their best to please her. Of how she would feel around him…

With a huff of exasperation, he yanked his gaze away. No, wolf. She was a friend. Mating wasn't in the equation, no matter how much he'd enjoy it.

As she hummed, the corners of her mouth tipped upward as if she was smiling to herself. Made him want to kiss each side and see if her smile deepened.

No, what the fuck was he thinking?

By the Gods, his thoughts were out of control.

Patrin saw the flush on his brother's fair skin and almost laughed. Because he knew exactly what Fell had been thinking about.

Same .

She was so very tempting, all soft curves and laughter. But no, it was more than that. She was…kind. Yes, that was part of it. She certainly didn't have to be teaching them to cook—or helping them learn some of the subtleties of the Daonain ways.

Part of it was her sense of humor, so much like his own. And her intelligence. And the way she was trying to get over her handicap.

Speaking of which…

He waited until she looked at him, then stalked forward, holding her gaze. Fuck, she had the most beautiful brown eyes, so dark and?—

Dominance, wolf, think dominance. He leaned into her space, just enough to trigger fear. His voice came out in a growl. "You should come with me and?—"

" No ." Her hands fisted, but she didn't hit him. Instead, she set her palms on his chest and pushed. He resisted for a second.

Her eyes stayed clear and steady. Even if her fingers trembled slightly, she was in control.

"Very good, little wolf." He bent slightly, testing to see if she stayed firm against panicking. His face was close to hers. Close enough to kiss her. But that would be way out of line. His desire could and would be controlled.

He tugged on her hair, smiled, and backed away. "You're improving."

Although he caught the tiniest hint of interest in her scent, the smell of fear drowned it out.

Would that change during the full moon?