Boaz?
His name was Boaz.
Alexander stared, not moving away before he was there, standing between him and the werewolf. An arm came aroundBoaz’s shoulders in a possessive gesture that made irritation burn hot in Alexander’s chest.
“Are you okay?” the newcomer demanded.
“I’m fine,” Boaz said, pressing a hand to his neck. When he pulled it away, Alexander’s gaze locked onto the mark left behind. Red against Boaz's skin. It shouldn’t have affected him, yet something about it stirred his hunger again. He dragged his tongue slowly across his lips, chasing the fading taste.
“He fucking bit you!” the other werewolf barked, stepping forward, anger marring his face. “Is he still crazy? Do we need to stake him again and shove his ass in a metal coffin?”
Boaz moved quickly, grabbing his protector by the arm and hauling him back before he could get any closer. “Hansel. Stop.”
“Why?” Hansel retorted, jerking against Boaz’s grip. “The ungrateful bastard just bit you. You should be furious right now.” His lip curled. “You saved his ass, and this is how he thanks you? By sinking his fangs into you like some rabid animal? He should leave,” he added coldly, “before I get mad.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. Hansel’s arrogance stirred a violent urge in him to crush the werewolf where he stood.
No one told him what to do.
“Careful,” Alexander said, his voice edged with menace. “You don’t know what’s going on here.”
“I don’t care,” Hansel shot back, edging around Boaz. “You should leave.”
“Why?” Alexander asked flatly.
“You don’t belong here,” he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “So leave while I’m still being nice.”
“No,” Alexander replied, completely unbothered. “I still have business here.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the forest behind them before returning to Hansel. “And even if I didn’t… I wouldn’t be chased off by dogs.”
“What did he just call us?” Hansel surged forward. Alexander didn’t move, but Boaz caught Hansel before he could reach him. “Let go of me,” Hansel growled. “He called us dogs.”
“You disrespected me first,” Alexander shot back, calm as ever. “Respect tends to go both ways.”
Hansel snarled, his body shifting halfway into his wolf, claws and teeth flashing.
“Oh, look at that,” Alexander drawled with a lazy chuckle. “The little puppy has grown some teeth.”
Boaz grimaced, bracing himself as he fought to hold Hansel back. “Please,” he said tightly, straining against Hansel strength. “Stop provoking him and just leave.”
Alexander didn’t move. He simply folded his arms across his broad chest and looked straight at Boaz, unbothered. “No. Like I said. I have business here. And I would like to get on with it before morning comes.” Without another words, Alexander turned and headed for the trees.
The taste of the werewolf’s blood still lingered faintly on his tongue, stirring the hunger deep inside him.
No. My bride will give me what I need.
He followed the trail she had taken through the trees, moving silently along the narrow forest path. When he stepped out into the clearing again, the lively music and laughter from earlier had vanished. A deafening silence greeted him.
Dozens of werewolves stood frozen in place, all of them were staring at him. And there among them was his bride. Her eyes were wide as she took him in.
Fuck.She looked afraid of him.
What do I do now?
Every single werewolf in the clearing looked tense like they were waiting for him to lose control and attack them.
Before Alexander could figure out what the hell he was supposed to say, a familiar figure suddenly appeared a few paces from him.
Greer.