Page 138 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Her wolf seemed to be enjoying the attention, desperate thing that she was, but Fern was getting nervous.

“I should be going now,” she said, trying to back away. But he grabbed her arms to keep her still.

“Please stay a little longer. It’s not like anyone else requires your presence, hm?”

Her shoulders fell, and she looked away.

“Oh, sweet thing, I don’t mean to mock you,” he said, leaning down to try to meet her eye. He squeezed her arms reassuringly. “I am merely jealous of your alpha. Doesn’t seem right for him to claim the only omega in wolfkin territory for a Naravekh when you could be my mate. Wouldn’t you prefer that?”

His lips moved to her ear as he whispered. “I would dismiss my Naravekh and you would have all of me. And I would have all of you.”

To have a mate, and to have all of him, certainly sounded appealing.

But she didn’t want Cyran.

“I’ve never heard a real omega whine,” he said, his breath warm. “Won’t you give me one?”

Now he actually was scaring her. Her whole body tensed, her nails digging into her palms as her hands formed trembling fists.

His tongue darted out, tasting her skin when suddenly he was ripped away.

“You dare assault a she-wolf of our clan under my roof?”

Fern gasped—Eidan held Cyran by the collar of his shirt, fist cocked.

And to her greater shock, Cyran actually looked… penitent.

He lowered his eyes. “My sincerest apologies, Alpha Eidan. Her scent, it’s… I don’t know what came over me.”

Eidan held him for another moment, and then released him with a push. “I will forgive the offense this once, but if I find you cornering her again, I won’t stop with a warning.”

Cyran bowed towards Eidan and straightened his shirt as he walked quickly out of the door leading outside.

Eidan watched him go, and then his whole demeanor softened as he came to Fern’s side. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Fern shook her head, catching her breath from the ordeal. “No, no. Not… not yet, anyway.”

He sighed, looking her over from head to toe in case of injury, then frowning at her toes. “Where are your shoes?”

“Um…”

Eidan’s gaze rose back to her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any shoes.”

“Then I shall remain silent.”

He swore under his breath in a language she didn’t understand, running a hand roughly down his face. “Give me your foot.”

Fern’s brows pinched. “What?”

Without another word, Eidan picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, Fern laughing and smacking him lightly on the back.

“Put me down, you oaf! I can still walk!”

“Not without shoes, you shouldn’t.”

He lowered her onto a bench, his grip gliding down her sides and her legs until landing at her feet, picking one up and measuring the length of it with the palm of his hand. Then he stopped for a moment and chuckled.

Fern huffed. “And what exactly is so funny?”