Wounded Kiss (To Be Claimed 1)

If they’re going to play this game, this version where everything is just fine, I’ll play along. Right up until they give me my friend back and pull the hell over so we can get back home. Somewhere deep inside me, I remember I have a backbone. I didn’t fight this hard so early in life to have these assholes destroy it all. Whatever it is they’re after, we’ll give them something else. I’ll find a way. I always do.

“Are you comfortable?” the first one, Lev, asks.

It’s only then that I realize the cloaks are gone and the shifter staring back at me is gorgeous. Like the other werewolves, he has silver eyes, but he doesn’t look like the shifter who held on to Lizzie back at the stadium. He doesn’t possess nearly as hard of a look as her captor did. My heart races as my palms turn clammy at the memory.

“I’m fine,” I say although my answer doesn’t come out nearly as strong as I’d like. “Is Lizzie okay?”

“She’s all right. Just scared.” His answer is dampened by something and my stare implores him for more, but he gives me nothing.

Lev has a short beard and his dark hair is long enough to grab at the top, but short on the sides. It also looks like he’s had his nose broken at least once, but the bit of imperfection on his otherwise classically handsome face only adds to his masculine appeal. I scoot around in my seat so I can get a good look at Jude. His black hair is short and he’s clean-shaven. But I can’t see much else of his face other than his full lips.

If it wasn’t for their silver eyes and large shoulders, I’d question if they were even werewolves.

Their heads nearly touch the ceiling, and their broad frames look completely out of place in the car. It reminds me of sardines stuffed in a tin. They can’t be comfortable. The two of them are almost polar opposites in the vibes they’re giving off. Lev could easily be a badass biker and Jude a clean-cut military soldier. But they’re not, they’re werewolves. I can’t let myself forget that, not even for a second.

“Are you all this big?” The question pops out of my mouth without conscious consent. Blaming it on passing out earlier and this odd light-headedness that won’t quit, I let my head fall back and try to get my balance.

Lev’s slow grin is sexy as hell as he says, “That’s what they all ask and—”

Before he can finish, Jude lands a hard blow with his fist against Lev’s chest.

“Shut it.” Lev’s only reaction is a deep, low chuckle that makes his entire upper body, and the entire vehicle, shake.

“I’m sure she’s got a better sense of humor than you,” he says and grins at me. “Did you want to hear the rest?”

My lips part, but words don’t come out. I feel like I’m on the edge of losing it. “I’m not okay.” The words are pulled from me and I hate that I spoke the sentiment aloud. The tears that prick my eyes and the coldness around me … I hate that even more. This isn’t real.

“Ah, shit.” Lev runs his hands through his hair and then looks back at me apologetically. “You all right?” His face is the epitome of concern and his silver eyes shine with sincerity. It’s been absolutely insane since we got to the stadium earlier and his kindness is my undoing. Ugly sobs start pouring out of me as I shake my head wildly. This isn’t real at all. I wish I could just wake up.

Terror cloaks my whisper. “I’m not okay.”

“Fuck.” Lev turns and somehow manages to maneuver his massive body between the two front seats to join me in the back. I immediately feel claustrophobic as my personal space dwindles to nothing.

“This is worse,” I blurt out, my response immediate as I shove a palm against his massive chest.

“I’m just going to hold you, okay?” Lev has his arms up but doesn’t move them, waiting for me to respond. His voice is calm and his arms look so welcoming that I can’t help but nod my head. His muscular arms wrap tight around me, practically consuming my body and making me feel like a small, scared child. I let go of my inhibitions and scoot closer to him, burying my head in his broad chest. Every ounce of him is pure muscle, so he’s hard as hell. But at least he’s warm and the gentle strokes up and down my back are soothing.

It takes a while with the rumbling of the car and the quiet drive, but I slowly feel myself calm down. Pulling my face away from him, I note the mascara smeared all over the white T-shirt stretched taut across his chest. Inwardly I cringe, but my breathing relaxes as I look up into his silver eyes and then back down immediately. Jude calmly tells me, “You’re going to be all right, I promise.” And Lev agrees, “You’re going to be just fine.” Their words and actions put me at ease. I must be in shock. There’s no other explanation. The realization wakes me up, sobriety heightening my anxiety once again.