10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Ava rolled her eyes even before she knew what the she-wolves were giggling about. More than likely, one of the eligible pack bachelors had taken up residence in the gym and was playing to their affections.

Her wolf snarled when she found her Raeth was the one at center stage. As she drew closer, her internal monologue suddenly became silent.

Shirtless, the Raeth was shredding a reinforced punching bag. Every bared muscle and defined line of his torso was on display like a museum exhibit devoted to masculine perfection. Ava drank up the sight of him like a parched woman who'd just discovered water.

Muscle coiled over the broad panes of his chest, the peaks and valleys of his abdominals tensing with every ruthless hit of his fists. Even more enticing was the fact that his torso was decorated with delicious ink. As she'd seen before, his left arm depicted a forest scene, the river trailing from his deltoid and spilling into a waterfall towards his wrist. On his left ribs, a coiled snake curled on his side, its head captured in full strike with fangs that scrapped just beneath his breastbone.

His clan mark—something she'd heard of but never seen in person—was a stylized capital A that was partially an infinity symbol. It rested proudly on his right pectoral muscle, both a claim and a privilege.

The gaggle of gossiping she-wolves had taken up residence across from the Raeth's punching bag, and while it looked like he'd forgotten about them, they clearly hadn't forgotten about him. She spied several slips of paper with phone numbers around Remmus' water bottle.

When the women saw Ava's obvious disappointment in them, they scattered. The gym was not a speed-dating event or a bachelor auction. It seemed no one could control themselves anymore.

She wasn't jealous. She just cared about the pack reputation, like the consummate beta that she was. And that's the story she'd stick with.

Unlike the she-wolves who'd apparently arrived without purpose, Ava had a job to do. As part of her responsibilities, she looked after the gym and managed the arrival of new equipment. Given the werewolves' penchant for regularly destroying things, it was nearly a full-time job.

While she worked, the subliminal urge to keep the Raeth in her sightline was nearly overpowering. It was a mixture of fear and heightened awareness, but a part of her was drawn to him. Her duties brought her closer to the punching bags—they rarely lasted more than a couple of months in the den—to ensure none of them needed replacement.

Remmus continued his workout as she approached, and neither of them spoke. It was just as well—she didn't need to add conversation to her list of things to do. When she'd checked all the bags except his, she found that he'd stalled his session.

A dimple appeared as he gave her a reverent bow. "All yours, Blondie."

This close, the minty scent that clung to him was impossible to miss. An electric current seemed to draw her toward him, the proximity making her wolf whine happily. If she reached out, she could press her palm against his heated skin—or swipe a claw across it.

She gave him a look. "Is it purposeful?"

"What?"

"Your incessant need to rile up my packmates."

"It can't be helped," he said, feigning apology. "I was innocently working out."

"There's nothing innocent about you."

His deep, rumbling chuckle had her wolf leaping to the forefront to peer through her eyes. Studying the change in her eye color, he inched closer and said, "For once, Blondie, you're entirely right. You've seen through my virtuous fa?ade. You are truly the beauty and the brains."

When he reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the warmth of his hand flamed across her cheek and behind her ear. Like before, the featherlight touch stoked a fire within her, and her wolf reached not with fear, but yearning. Chasing that sensation, she leaned into the contact before she remembered who he was. What he was.

Too slow, she snapped her teeth at him.

"Keep your hands to yourself or you'll lose them."

Remmus' eyes glinted. "As you wish, Blondie."

Absently, he reached up to adjust the messy bun at the back of his head, but it drew her attention to the muscles that bunched beneath his inked skin. She stared for a half moment too long.

"I feel objectified. Are you inspecting me for rips and tears, too?"

Scowling, she made quick work of checking the punching bag and deemed it acceptable for continued use. She gestured to it.

"Feel free to continue your workout, Raeth."

The tomfoolery had ruined any urge she'd had to work out for stress release. Having completed her gym management duties, she left for her kitchen without a backwards glance.

***

Seeing so much of the Raeth and his sexy ink had clearly addled her brain. Ava wasn't used to playing damsel in distress, and she'd done her fair share of it over the last two days. It'd been a marvel she hadn't sat on her haunches like a pretty pup and begged for his treats.

What was it about this man that tore all her control to pieces?

With the gym occupied by his massive ego, she'd retreated to her kitchen to bake and lower her anxiety. The wolves of the den would be overjoyed. The current count was two pies, forty-eight cupcakes, and one passable tray of gooey, chocolate brownies. Now, all Ava needed to do was finish the whipped topping on the cream pie, and she'd be done.

Biting her lower lip, she delicately leaned forward, bag in hand, and began piping over the rich chocolate dessert.

A knock on the door interrupted her concentration.

Ava dropped the bag on the counter and stalked toward the entryway to her home. She had no idea who would be calling on her when she was off duty. This was her personal time, and every wolf knew to respect it.

Ava's office was open for her pack members for two hours minimum most days, and today was no exception. Following the incident with the tripwire, the healers had recommended she take it easy. And she had, honestly.

Kind of.

When the door revealed the Raeth himself, Ava startled. He was probably here to twist the knife over what had happened at the gym, but she wasn't complaining. If he'd taken the liberty to come to her, that was just as well. Earning his trust was essential if she wanted to gain access to his clan lands, and she still needed to desensitize herself to a Raeth's presence.

Apparently, she took too long to greet him. Leaning forward, he cupped a hand to his mouth and prompted, "This is where you say ‘Hello Remmus, how nice of you to visit'. Go ahead."

The wide smile that dimpled his cheek was quickly becoming familiar, and when he looked at her expectantly, she temporarily forgot to be snide to him.

"Hello, Remmus."

"Nice of you to visit?"

"No." And then, she added, "Ice pick to the throat."

A bark of laughter erupted from him, which caught Ava off-guard, but made her soul feel a little lighter.

"Your place smells like heaven."

"If heaven smells like pies and cupcakes, count me in," Ava quipped.

She was letting herself enjoy the way they fell into easy conversation and made a mental effort to pull herself back from the edge. Inside her chest, her wolf whined, eager to play fetch with the man opposite her.

Traitor.

Ava realized resistance was futile. "Do you want to come in?"

"Why, Ava, you'd compromise your virtue for little old me?" Remmus' hand went to his chest as though the very thought was wicked. "Of course I'll come in!"

And then, the Raeth brushed past her and headed straight for the kitchen. Shutting the door with a bit too much force, she stalked after him. Remmus had frozen in the doorway to her kitchen, wide green eyes fixated on the bounty of baked goods sitting on her counters.

"Woman." The seriousness of his voice gave her pause. "You are Fate's gift to the world."

"I like to bake."

"You don't say?"

The shy chuckle that threatened in her throat escaped, delighting the male who'd finally snapped out of his trance. Feeling awkward, her fists beat once against her thighs before she remembered she was the beta of one of the largest wolf packs in North America, one of the original werewolves, and more than capable of holding her own against anyone—Raeth or not.

Remmus hopped up on her counter and licked his lips while staring longingly at her baked creations. Ava instantly took offense.

"What are you doing?"

He cocked his head. "Sitting. Do you call it something else where you're from?"

"No, we call it being impolite to put our butt on someone else's counter." She rolled her eyes, then threatened, "Over the head with a rolling pin."

"I'm certain my Keebler elf friends would disagree," he retorted. "I'd theorize that they get on counters all the time. Short legs and all."

"In the kidney with a paring knife."

"Ouch."

Ava shoved at him mercilessly, intent on getting him off her counter. When he finally relented and hopped down, he smoothly sat in one of her kitchen stools with a seductive smirk and waited for her to speak.

"Okay, heavy breather, why are you here? Did the punching bag somehow die a slow, painful death after I left?"

"I followed my nose." Remmus inhaled once more for effect. "My place doesn't have a kitchen; how did you get so lucky?"

"Perks of being me."

"Mmm." The masculine rumble from his chest had a shot of desire racing through her blood. "Tell me more, Blondie."

Quirking her lips to the side, Ava asked, "Are you always such an outrageous flirt?"

"I try to be. Is it working?"

With an undignified grunt, Ava picked up the decorating bag. Fully aware of the Raeth who was staring at her unashamedly, she worked efficiently, trying to dissolve into her task.

Each swoop of the decadent topping was perfect, the act of it second nature. Her concentration was split between where her fingers iced the pie and where they wanted to go—to Remmus. His silent presence was merely another reminder that he was here for a purpose. Multiple purposes. And at least one he didn't know about.

Finding her voice, she said, "Aidan mentioned that you had a bunch of clanless joining your clan. Is that true?"

"Yeah, a hundred at least. We ran out of space for them, so we had to start building new houses." He paused, then shrugged. "It's a bit strange, to be honest. First Zeke's clan and now this. All the unfamiliar faces after centuries of the same clansmen."

"I'm sure," she replied. "Do you have a database to keep them all straight? Pictures?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head. "No. Even though they're new, we can still tell who is a part of our clan and who isn't based on clan bonds. Eventually, we'll put names to faces."

Ava deflated internally. Without a picture database, she would definitely have to go to clan lands to see the new clansmen for herself. The sketches of the three Raeths who'd murdered her parents floated into her mind, but she wasn't at a point in her relationship with Remmus to explain why she wanted to find them.

At some point during her silence, the man shifted to get a better look at her craft, and the intensity of his study had her blushing. To kill the escalating nervousness, Ava asked, "Interested in taking up baking as a hobby?"

"No, I'm just helplessly intrigued by your skill." His honesty was a welcome reprieve. "I love food, but I'm a dreadful cook."

"Cooking and baking are two very different animals," she replied.

"You'd know all about animals, little wolf."

Something far headier infiltrated his voice, a shadow that spoke of desire and want. It shivered over her skin like a lover's caress, making her involuntarily drag in a breath of his minty scent. Relaxing again into her craft, her mind wandered.

"What was the Heat like?"

The words had left her lips before she could stop them, and when she glanced up in their wake, she saw his cheerful countenance falter. When he dropped eye contact, she almost apologized, but he spoke before she could express regret.

"Miserable," came the confession. His handsome features clouded, the seafoam green of his eyes murky with memory. "I hated every moment of it. One thing I know for sure, though. I'd give anything to have experienced it with someone I loved."

The heartfelt revelation shocked her, and her shoulders sank. It made her wonder who he had been with that inspired such regret, and why she felt his pain as though it were her own.

Ava's hand moved to pat his of its own accord, the wolf within prompting her to ease his suffering.

"Hey, I'm—I'm sorry I brought it up," she managed to say. "I—ah, don't know why I asked."

Remmus' eyes lifted to hers only seconds later. "Curiosity killed the cat, little wolf." His flirtation returned with a vengeance. "Fortunately, I take penance in the form of cupcakes."

"What makes you think I'll feed you a cupcake?"

"'Cause you like me," he answered pragmatically. "And while I didn't say anything about you feeding me a cupcake, I'll happily take you up on the offer."

"Oh, I like you, do I?"

Narrowing her eyes at the near-stranger on the stool, Ava palmed a cupcake, holding it out of his reach like a taunt. When Remmus gamely reached for it, the move made his torso inch closer to hers, the long lines of his body stretching across hers as she snickered playfully at their game.

When she raised her eyes to face him, she realized the predicament they'd now found themselves in: his lips were only inches away from hers.

And just like that, her snickering stopped, and Ava became fascinated with the luscious lips that twitched under her stare.

The air around them shifted to something heavier, something uniquely yearning. Ava's heart kicked in her chest, a shiver skating over her flesh in anticipation. All at once, she wondered what he'd taste like, and if those lips were as soft as they appeared.

"This is how Raeths kill their prey," a taunting woman's voice, schooling her son. "We coerce them into submission, taking as we please."

Ava snapped back to the present, fear stiffening her spine. And in the scant two seconds it took to pull away from Remmus, she smashed the cupcake into those too-tempting lips.

"There, I fed you."