His gaze was on the faint mark on her throat, his mark, when he asked, “Was she telling the truth?”
“I wanted to rip her throat out,” Piers admitted. “Yeah, she knew.”
“She plucked the exact words from my mind,” Michael Montoya said. “We all know what a fair bastard you are.”
A snort from Piers.
Dane Gentry edged closer. “She can link with us.” He whistled. “Who the hell would have thought the stories were true? A charmer who can link with shifted wolves—that’s f**king rare.”
Her shoulders were so straight they had to hurt. “So I guess this means I passed your test? You believe me now?”
“I believe you’re a charmer.” His hand lifted and brushed against her back. “I believe that—”
But Sarah had leapt away from him. When his fingers touched the base of her back, she yelped and shot forward, running and slamming right into Dane’s outstretched and scarred arms.
“Whoa, sweetheart,” Dane murmured, “there ain’t no cause for you to—”
She kneed him in the groin. Dane immediately dropped his hold and stumbled back, swearing.
Sarah whirled back around to face Lucas. He raised his hand, a command for the others to stand down. Don’t touch. He knew terror when he smelled it. They all did.
“Are all wolves the same?” she asked, voice tight. “Sure, I know most folks say you’re all psychotic killers, but, hell, some of you have to be normal, right? Some of you have to have consciences?”
He caught the faint tightening of Piers’s eyes. Years ago, they’d had to put down Piers’s father when the guy went Lone—and went on a five-state killing spree.
“We’re not all f**king psychos,” Piers snarled.
“Really?” And one brow arched. “Then why were you so worried a minute ago that you’d be crossing the line and killing? Why are you afraid that you’ll like the taste of human blood too much and—”
Piers lunged toward her.
Lucas stepped in front of Sarah. “You don’t touch her.” Guttural. Suddenly, the tension was so thick he could feel the beast stretching beneath his skin.
Piers glared at him, his light green eyes a mix of fury . . . and fear. The guy wasn’t afraid of Lucas. No, Piers was afraid of what he might become.
“If you didn’t want me looking,” Sarah’s voice came from behind him, quavering just a little, but still with a f**k-you air that he liked, “then you shouldn’t have been one of the guinea pigs who tested me.”
Lucas didn’t glance back at her, not yet. He kept his gaze on Piers. “You back in control?”
A grim nod.
“Good. Stay that way.” Then he turned to Sarah. “I want the wolf’s name.”
Her lips parted, but she shook her head.
“His name. If the bastard is gunning for me, I’m taking him out.”
“I need assurance first.” She rocked back on her heels. “I need to know that you won’t throw me to the—”
“Wolves?” He finished, and let his mouth curl. “Can’t promise you that, babe.” The wolves already had her.
“Promise me . . . promise me that you’ll keep me safe. You’ll keep the coyotes and the wolves off my back.”
“Can’t imagine why they want to tear into you,” Dane muttered, and from the corner of his eye, Lucas saw the guy wince. Yeah, a sore c**k could make any guy wince.
“The name,” Lucas said again, not about to be distracted.
But Sarah actually shook her head, at him. “Your promise first. I want you to vow right in front of your pack.”
Oh, she was pushing him. He leaned in close, towering over her. He let the tips of his claws burst through his fingertips, then those claws scraped lightly over the flesh of her arms. Not cutting the skin, but the threat was there. “I could always make you tell me.”
“No,” she said quietly, “you can’t. You’re not the first wolf who’s thought he could break me.”
Now what the f**k was that about? “The name.” He wanted to know the bastard who’d hurt her, who’d—
“I’ll tell you the wolf after you—”
Was it the same ass**le who’d hurt her? Her lover? Talk about piss-poor taste in men.
“—once you make the vow.”
He dropped his hands, not even leaving a scratch on her. “I give my word that you have my protection.”
He was aware of Piers and Dane both tensing at that. Sarah studied him silently for a moment, then said, “Not that I don’t think you’re the big, bad ass**le who can claw his way through just about anything and anyone, but . . . I want your whole pack’s protection, not just yours.”
Pushing . . .
“Because if you happen to eat a silver bullet, I want to know that my ass is still covered.”
“Fine,” he bit out. “Give me the name, and you have the pack’s protection.”
“For how long?” she asked, nibbling a bit at her lower lip. “This could go on for—”
“Forever!”
“Shit,” Piers muttered. “No, he damn well didn’t just say—”
But Sarah was smiling now. A real, wide flash of her lips that made the corners of her eyes crinkle and for an instant, she went from pretty to full-on gorgeous. “Then we’ve got a deal.” She offered her hand to him.
What? Now she wanted a f**king handshake?
He grabbed her hand. Curled his fingers around her delicate bones. Stared at her mouth as she breathed the words, “Rafael Santiago. Rafe.”
He knew the wolf. His fingers tightened around Sarah’s and he pulled her in even closer. “Time to seal our deal.” Then he put his mouth on hers. Sarah’s lips were open, parted just right, and his tongue plunged inside. Her mouth was as soft as before, as lush, and her taste—
Still just as f**king sweet.
With every lick, every stroke of his tongue, he wanted more. The woman was meeting him head-on for the kiss. No shy backing away. Need and lust. Just what he wanted.
His c**k shoved against the front of his jeans. If they hadn’t been surrounded by an avid audience, he would have pushed the kiss farther and taken so much more. But . . . they did have an audience, and he’d never been the sharing kind. Just a little longer and he’d—
She tore her mouth from his. Her breath panted in ragged puffs and her eyes met his.