Ava
Fuck, it hurts so much. First, the sting of my cheek and then the familiar pain that precedes a shift.
“Breathe, Ava,” Nick says, dropping to his knees beside me.
I try, but I can’t.
“It’s too strong,” I whisper as my body bends, the crack of my bones echoing in my skull. It shouldn’t be this
painful, but the silver fights against my shift, making it agony—every time. Which is why I avoid it.
As my body bends, my eyes meet with grey ones that turn black, the figure housing them, unlike any man I have
ever seen. He is huge. And muscular. And angry, I note, as a silver piece in the top of my left thigh starts stinging.
So badly that I claw at it, eventually nipping it out with my teeth. The relief is short-lived as another starts stinging.
But before I can get to it, strong arms pin me down.
And then I feel it as I lock eyes with the stranger kneeling beside me. His large hand clamps my jaw shut with ease
as sparks erupt at the contact. Our eyes lock together, realization hitting me.
His gravelly voice strokes me as he asks Nick what is wrong with me.
Indeed, what is wrong with me? Perhaps the question he should ask is, what is right with me?
My heart aches thinking he has met me like this. So weak.
I miss Nick's response, too caught up in my sorrow at our meeting under these conditions.
“She needs to change back. You can make her. I know what you are to her,” Nick says to the stranger quietly, his
eyes briefly meeting mine before he lets go and st eps back.
“Let her go,” the stranger orders, all arms pinning me down slowly releasing me.
He pulls me forward, his breath tickling my ear as he whispers.
“Shift back, Ava.” It's said so sweetly, so quietly. But so loud in other ways. It resonates with my heart. With my
wolf that I cannot control, a command she reads as she instantly calms down.
“There, that’s it,” he soothes, his hand stroking my fur as it recedes, bones breaking and reforming as I slowly
return to my human form.
Without the pain, something else overwhelms me. Sparks and his scent. So deliciously spicy, like gingerbread at
Christmas time, that I lean into him and take a de ep breath, sighing on the exhale.
“Look away!” he roars, looking up, the harshness of his voice making me jump as he takes his suit jacket off,
placing it over my naked torso.
“Sorry,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting mine again, r epositioning me before standing.
I must be in shock as I allow this to happen, no argument falling from my tongue. The sparks I feel, the warmth of
his much too-fancy jacket, and his scent consume me, making me compliant.
“Take him away. I will deal with him personally,” the stranger says to someone close by, anger making the words
rumble in his body and leaving me wondering who he is talking about. I feel so tired—so tired that I yawn.
And then, my eyes close. The last thing I remember is someone saying something strange.
“Yes, My King.”
............................................................... I wake with a start, sitting up so quickly that dizziness has me
plopping back as swiftly.
"Don't," a woman's voice says gently from nearby, followed by orders to let the King know I'm conscious.
"Here, sip on this slowly," she says, gently taking my hand and placing a glass in it. I sip slowly, my gaze taking in
her lowered head as if she is
avoiding eye contact and then my surroundings.
I am in a room—a room filled with the scent of Christmas and so grand that I do not want to touch anything for fear
of tarnishing it. Even the bedspread covering me is lush and feels like it was made from fairy hair strands or the
fine hairs of a thousand baby puppies.
“Ava!” Finally, a voice I know. Nick rushes towards the bed as the female takes the glass from me, placing it on the
bedside table before disappearing.
“Nick!” I practically jump into his arms, thankful he is here. Wherever here is.
“How are you feeling?” he asks as he sits beside me.
“I’m fine,” I answer, waving my hand in the air, “but where the hell are we? And why do you smell so different?”
“We are still on Silver Wood pack lands. After what happened, you were brought here.” Nick talks while I lift the
bed covers, noticing I am in a shirt.
A shirt that, when I lift it to my nose, smells like the scent in this room, just stronger. Yummy. And so big that the
sleeves hang over my hands and some. If I stand, the hem of the shirt will probably meet my knees. I sigh in relief
when I realize I am at least in panties. Not a pair of my own, though, as these are in a different style to the ones I
usually wear.
“Um, what is this?” I ask, flapping my arms in the air so that the sleeves move as I do. “Where’s the dress you
bought me?”
“That was not salvageable after what happened. Do you remember anything, Ava?” Nick asks me with concern
while he holds out his hand, helping me out of the bed. As I guessed, the shirt hangs just shy of my knees and is so
silky it brushes my skin gently, like a caress, as I move.
My head snaps up as flashes of what preceded me being here run through my mind.
“How bad is it? Did anyone see?” I ask, remembering grey eyes and many hands.
“Yes. That ship has sailed. I’m sorry, Ava. I tried calming you down, but your wolf reacted when that asshole
Alpha Alexander slapped you. They know what you are. The King—” I cut him off, memories of the night coming
back to me.
“The King. Shit, Nick. Did the King find out? Am I in trouble?” My heart starts beating faster as I remember
someone referring to the King just before I passed out.
“Not exactly. But you need to know something. Your mate...” Nick says, his words petering off as he looks at me,
trying to find the right words.
“You mean my ex-mate Alpha Alexander?” I ask, filling in what I think he refers to when he says nothing.
“That asshole. You know he wants me back? That’s what he said, and when I said no, he got angry and tried to
force me. After everything he put me through. Put us through,” I rant, waving my hand in the air as I head towards
the door I think is the closet, hoping to find some clothes.
“If I ever see him again, I swear to god, Nick. I might kill him,” I say, opening the closet doors and nearly jumping
out of my skin when a de ep, gravelly voice joins my little tirade.
“Not if I kill him first.”