Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae 1)

Feeding off it, he leaned into her, invading her space with his size. Pulling alpha rank. “You are freaking out over nothing. Everyone gets that starting bonus, because by the time a shifter answers the summons and arrives at the castle, they’re broke. Yes, many have family backing, but once you’re in the pack, you need to stand on your own two feet. Just take it and shut up.”

Her eyes flashed. Her jaw set.

But instead of exploding, she seemed to…relax. If not for the burning rage smoldering her gaze, he would’ve thought she’d backed down.

Shivers started at the base of his balls, usually a sign of imminent danger. The strange smell of her ancestry, spicy sweet, flared. Magic boiled from her, stronger than ever before.

What the hell is happening?

“Is that how you talk to people where you come from?” she asked in a quiet voice. His small hairs stood on end. “Where was that, again? Oh, that’s right. Upper-middle-class suburbia. Do rich people not teach respect?”

“Where I came from has nothing to do with anything. What’s your problem?”

“I’ll tell you what my problem is, Devon. You. That’s my problem. You prance around with your big house and your nice car and your big paycheck, acting like you came from nothing. Like you’re some bad-boy thug with your ripped jeans and the ever-present chip on your shoulder. Well, I came from nothing. Yet I have the decency to be nice to people. And your commitment issues? You’re just a spoiled little brat who wants to screw every skirt in sight. All guys your age do. But do they? No, because most of them would feel bad if they screwed a girl over to satisfy a craving. You have no morals. No respect for others. You’re a scared little poser who’s put out because you’re being forced to spend time with your latest conquest.”

She turned to the ATM, her anger seething around her body like a halo. Magic rolled off her, crackling. Maybe he should have set her straight, told her how he’d really felt this morning—how he felt now—but her magic prodded at his wolf while her words made fury pump into his body.

“You know what?” he spat. “You’re the scared one, Miss High and Mighty. That’s the real problem. Now you have money. You’re not poor anymore. You can buy new clothes. And that terrifies you, because now you won’t be able to blame all your problems on coming from nothing. Everything you’ve always identified with is being torn away. That’s what terrifies you about that number in your bank account. And keep me out of it. I’ve never lied about what I’m after with women. I don’t lead anyone on. You jumped me last night, not the other way around. I wasn’t preying on—”

He cut off suddenly when her eyes flashed blue, like an overexposed picture. It wasn’t a human eye color.

Before he could ask about it, she said, very softly, “If I were you, I would leave now.”

Fear wormed through his anger. For the first time in his life, he experienced the flight side of a fight-or-flight response. Her magic was messing with her. Seeping out of her. She was absurdly powerful, and the wild side of him was proud that she’d managed to scare him.

Still, he did step away. He didn’t want to get blasted across the sidewalk.

That possibility brought out a bravado he didn’t feel and quickly regretted. “I’ll be down the street taking care of some things. We’ll meet up in a few hours. I’ll text you. Why don’t you take all your riches and fix yourself up?”

She sucked in a breath, and then her face took on a frightening mask of rage.

Oops.

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes flashing chalk-blue again. Prickles spread across his skin, like he was being jabbed with a thousand little needles. Magic gushed from her in a flood, the air around her crackling with it.

Before he could apologize, she took her cash, nodded, turned, and strode away.

He let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

That hadn’t gone well. He’d been a dick—she should’ve thrown a punch, or tried to kick him in the balls. He deserved it.

But he would not initiate that fight. Instead, he stalked off down the street in the other direction, unnerved by the leap in her magic and disgusted with himself. He dug out his phone, scratched off a clump of dirt from where he’d dropped it last night, and called Roger again. Things were changing with her, fast, and the elder’s interest would only increase. They needed to get moving.Chapter FortyStill angry, but also a little humbled, Charity raised her chin as she strolled down the street. She hated to admit it, but Devon had been right about a lot of things. Her mother would have killed to have so much money. Charity could get a whole new wardrobe. She could eat out and shop at the grocery store without keeping a mental tally of the total.