Chapter 8

• Wolfariane dumped her on the bed and rose. He took a moment to arrange his clothing, scowling more at the untidiness and slight wrinkling of his suit. Damn drunk female.
• "I can seeeeeeeeeeee the thundeeeer! It's vibrating my beeeeeeeeed! I think I'm gonnaaaaa vanish—" she gagged again. "I don't feel so good, big guy."
• "You are drunk and drugged. You have no business feeling good tonight."
• "Aaaaaah," she nodded her head in understanding. Accompanied with a huge smile, "But, that is where you're wrooooooooong!" she sang. "I feel like I can flyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!"
• Wolfariane shook his head. "I hope we do not see again, female." He faced the door and walked—
• A feminine hand grabbed his...and tugged hard.
• He wasn't expecting it, he lost his footing to the direction she tugged him to and fell right on top of her, breaking his fall in the last minutes with the hands that shot out on either side of her head—which held his upper body away from her, instead of crashing full-body on her.
• "Ooooh, look who we have here..." She drawled seductively, "Isn't it my dark knight in frowning armor?"
• Wolfariane was too stunned to speak. A changeling male four times her size CANNOT 'move' him when he's standing—even when he's not expecting it—unless man and beasts want to be moved.
• His beasts are definitely on board with that 'tug' and it baffles the hell out of him. Blue-eyes met beautiful brown-eyes and the world stilled for a moment.
• She is as beautiful as a siren made specifically for seduction. Even in a form as small as hers, the female has an energy that most females do not. He can smell it.
• "Wow. Look at these eyes. Blue as the ocean..." Entranced, her hand touched his chin softly, "No one from the gender that betrayed Jesus Christ is supposed to look this yummy..."
• "What do you think you are doing, female." He eyed her finger on his cheek.
• "I think I'm very attracted to you." voice dropped in a whisper, "I am very wet right now."
• He can smell it too, and it is starting to mess with his head. Nothing messes with a changeling male's head more than the scent of fear, aróusal, and mate. "What you need is to close your eyes and sleep, female."
• "Ismena. My name is Ismena."
• "Ismena." He tasted the name on his lips. The wolf definitely approved, chirping inside him. "Meaning 'Queen' in the ancient tongue."
• "Really?" Blink, blink, "Didn't know that." Gags.
• Time to stand before this female throws up on him. Holding that thought, he tried to rise, but she went arms and legs on him, wrapping those tightly around him, her grip surprisingly strong for a female.
• "Oooh, now where does he think he's goooooing?"
• The wolf growled in pleasure and rubbed against his chest like a damn cat. The man scowled, "You are completely wiped out."
• "Poor man, the way you frown so hard... tsk tsk tsk, I think you are gonna get some permanent frown lines on that cute forehead of yours. I would have checked if you've bagged one yet, but my eyes are damn blurry right now," a very hard blink accompanied her statement, "shít, this is not the way I wanted this night to end."
• They do NOT like to be caged, yet this female has them 'caged'—not that she has the supernatural strength and power it takes to REALLY cage him, but still—and yet, the wolf isn't doing a thing about it. His mountain lion is the one raging inside him, tugging at his reins to be set free.
• "Cat got your tongue?" She slurred cheekily
• "Cats cannot win any attack against me, female." They will not dare.
• "Uh-huh. Oh boy, but are you heavy."
• "I am bearing most of my weight. If I let myself lie on you completely, and give you my weight—"
• "You will suffocate poor Ismena in seconds." She finished for him, a grin spreading across her cheeks, "Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You've got that damn hot and scary thing going on."
• Scary, sure. But hot? Nobody ever thinks that of him before. "You are a very weird female. Weird and small."
• "Thanks," the smile only spread wider.
• Her smile... It was oddly captivating. Too captivating to be normal. His brows knitted the more.
• Ismena loosed one arm, raised it to his face, and separated those skins that came together, "You will get old too soon if you continue frowning this hard. The world isn't too serious for this."
• "My world is."
• "Wow, you must be from Mars, you alien man. What is your name? Can't keep calling you 'Rescuer' and 'Frown Face' in my head."
• "I am Wolfariane Daminor Throne."
• "Can you speak English, please?" She slurred, "That's a tongue twister."
• His brows knitted again, and his lips thinned in displeasure. "I am Wolfariane."
• "Ahhh," head bobbed twice in understanding, she used her fingers to separate those skins he laced together again, "Wolfariane. Wolfe." Pause, "I'll just call you the Big Bad Wolfe."
• "You cannot call me that." Weird female. Is she always this fearless, or is it the drink talking?
• "Just watch me, Scary Man." Her cheeks widened again.
• He made a move to get up, but she tightened her limbs around him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down until his face came really close to hers.
• "You smell of death, aróusal, and liquor so much, it is hard to make out any other scent. Do you always cream your panties for any man that holds you?" The wolf snarled. He does not like that at all.
• "Mmh-mmh," she shook her head adamantly, "I'll have you know that I do not desire your gender that much," she slurred, "if I did, my love life or lack of, wouldn't suck so badly."
• His wolf purred like a cat. Since when does he make sounds like that?
• Suddenly, she tugged on his neck. This brought his face down to hers—his nose down to her neck. That was when he scented it.
• The scent of Mate.
• The scent of an Alpha's mate.
• His wolf struck out his tongue—Wolfariane's tongue—and licked her neck, twice. Mine.
• That claim he laid before his brain even registered it, told him more than any seer ever will that she is his mate. He froze.
• Suddenly, everything is starting to make better sense to him; his agitation when she was attacked, why he wasn't able to leave her in that restroom, why his other halves are so relaxed and contented with anything about her—including her smell of death and liquor. Finally, it makes sense why his body is reacting to hers, and why her arousal is threatening to drive him insane.
• "Hell." This is not happening.
• "Heaven." She drawled, oblivious to the battle the Alpha male on top of her is fighting.
• He rose from her completely. Is this some kind of sick joke from the heavens? The moon goddess? His mountain lion roared in denial and rage.
• Ismena began pulling her shirt up and her movements caught his eyes. "What do you think you're doing?"
• Brown eyes narrowed seductively, "I feel hot. You are hot." Arms spread wide, a full grin split her lips, "I say we come together and set the bed ablaze! What do you say?"
• "I say no." He gritted his teeth when his wolf clawed angrily in protest.
• "Oops. You sure you don't wanna see this body?" Her arms gestured to her body, "You suuuure? You gonna regreeeeet this decision in the morning, Big Bad Wolfeeeee!" She sang.
• "You will regret it more, female. You are not in your right mind."
• "The best decisions are not made in the right mind."
• He shook his head, turned, and stalked into the bathroom to clear his head.
• In there, he reined in his beasts as best as he could, gritting his teeth. His fingers on the counter tightened. The mountain lion is striving to take form. He cannot let it. He has never been so out of control in a long time.