Claimed by the Pack

“Spare clothes,” she said. “Probably a good idea when you’re a shape-shifter, huh?”

I smirked back at her. “You catch on fast.”

I could tell she wanted to say more. That maybe she was sorry for not believing us. Or maybe she just had questions, probably a thousand of them. Anyone would.

To her credit, she did none of that. She was too busy rummaging through a nearby first-aid kit.

“You’re cut,” she said, pulling out a pack of bandages and some disinfectant. I watched as she sank down on one of the mattresses and patted the spot beside her. “Come on. I’ll patch you up.”

The water jug we kept was nearly empty. It was still fresh though. She took some and used it to clean my wounds, which were nothing but scratches really. It gave her an excuse to touch me though, so I let her do it anyway.

“This one’s a little deep,” she said, smoothing a bandage over my shoulder. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Liar,” she laughed.

She kept going as the chill slowly left the room. Soon it felt warm. Comfortable.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“About you leading me into a den of rabid wolf shifters?” Serena asked casually. I shuddered with anticipation as she wiped up the dried blood. Every touch made me shiver. Every point of contact was wonderful. “Well, I can’t say you didn’t warn me.”

I swore I could smell the heat coming off her. It had never been like this. The electricity between us was palpable.

“No, about something else.”

Her lips went all pouty. It only made her even more beautiful. “What then?”

“You saved my life,” I told her. “Our lives, actually. If you hadn’t stopped Lionel when you did, things would’ve gone bad for us back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

She went back to wiping. I had to put my hand over hers, just to stop her.

“Serena…” I said, looking straight into her eyes. She looked nervous. But beneath her nervousness… something much more.

“Y—Yes?”

“Tell me how you did that.”

19

SERENA

I could barely even sit next to him. That’s how overwhelming it was, the physical and emotional attraction. The inescapable compulsion to throw myself in his arms and just start kissing him, regardless of what happened next.

Plus, he was naked. Or at least he had been, until that blasted duffel bag at the foot of his bed. Who the hell keeps a spare set of clothes stowed away in some underground cave, anyway?

Werewolves. That’s who.

The whole thing still hadn’t registered in my brain. I mean yes, I believed it now. I couldn’t really deny it anymore, could I? But I guess it hadn’t sunk in. Not totally, anyway.

Dammit Xiomara...

She’d been right again. When would I ever learn? Probably never, I decided. And that was fine with me. Giving in to the old woman wasn’t something I—

“Serena?” Broderick asked. He was holding my hand now. Sending goosebumps up and down that whole side of my body. “Please. You can tell me.”