Read Loner (Norseton Wolves #2) for Free Online

inhalation. Oh my god . He may not have been an alpha in title, but he certainly had the energy of one. It was unmistakable. He wasn’t some run-of-the-mill wolf.
    Does anyone else know? Does the pack know what he is?
    “Why did you think that?” His plaintive voice that made her feel like the biggest bitch on the face of the Earth.
    Fuck . She ground her palms against her gravely eyes and blew out a breath. “It was a logical conclusion.”
    “Based on what?”
    “Life experience.”
    “I—”
    Whatever he thought to say, he let fall off. Maybe he didn’t know what to say either, and for the moment, that suited her fine, because neither did she.
    She burrowed her face against the fluffy pillow. “Finish your show.”
    He didn’t move at first, but after a few seconds, turned the television back on, this time with the sound on low.
    She peeked out from under the pillow to watch his face as he stared at the screen. Now that she’d felt his frustration and tasted his lick of power, he was a bit easier to read. That undercurrent of anxiety she’d stoked in him was still there. He may have looked calm, but her new wolf sense of smell caught the remnants of his testosterone spike…and of her lingering hormones, as well. Unpracticed though she was, she pulled her energy in as tight as she could and watched his body gradually relax.
    He let out a slow, relieved exhalation and focused on the television screen.
    “Yes!” Darius whispered and gave his fist a pump in the air.
    That was the end of the show. The paining was a legitimate early work of a well-known artist, and had been a commissioned gift to some practically forgotten princess.
    Stephanie pushed up onto her elbows and looked over her shoulder to see the credits rolling. “I love a good mystery.”
    “Yeah.” His smoldering gaze flitted to her and quickly back to the screen. His anxiety had all but dissipated.
    He sucked at eye contact, at least with her. She’d never known a werewolf to have that problem, but again, it seemed there was very little about him that was typical.
    He turned off the television and slid the remote onto the nightstand. “Should I sleep on the sofa?”
    “Why?”
    “I just thought—”
    “It’s your bed, Darius. Get in. I don’t bite.”
    “Actually, you do.”
    She cringed and let her head hit the pillow. Her verbal “bites” had probably been worse than the ones with teeth. She was ashamed about them now. In the same way everyone in her father’s pack unfairly judged her, shed done the same to him. She hadn’t even given him a chance. She should have trusted the goddess. Her dreams had told her that things would get better, not worse. Stephanie was obviously self-sabotaging. It was almost as if she was afraid of happiness because it’d been so long since she’d felt it.
    Whether she was a ravening beast or not, he got in, and settled onto his belly.
    Fix this .
    She hoped Darius could forgive and forget, and that he wanted to go through with the next step. There was still a chance he was that wolf the goddess thought Stephanie needed. She forced a swallow down her tight throat. “What time’s the ceremony?”
    “Early. Maybe six or seven.”
    “Why so early? Are you all afraid we’ll change our minds and run off before we put our signatures on the marriage licenses?” She tried to put a bit of tease in her voice, but given the nervous break in it, likely didn’t quite manage to.
    He furrowed his brow again. “I didn’t set the time. Mrs. Carbone arranged it.”
    “That was a joke. A bad one, but still.”
    “Oh. Sorry.”
    He drew his energy in more tightly around him as if he feared it was in her way. The opposite was true. Her inner wolf was doing the psychic equivalent of rolling around in it—nesting in it as if it were a comfortable, familiar blanket.
    Give it back to me, wolf.
    She gave his hard bicep a little poke and settled back beneath the covers. “Where will the ceremony be?”
    He rubbed