Page 14 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

Her gaze snapped to me. Good. Anger was better than collapse.

“Okay. You’re right, but I have a clinic appointment tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow may be too late.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” I said. “But I know what pre-heat looks like.”

“Congratulations. Do they give out certificates in alpha training school?”

Lincoln took half a step back with his palms open. “We’re not trying to frighten you.”

“Marvelous. Very reassuring, from the two enormous men stalking me.”

“We’re not stalking you.” I heard how useless that sounded roughly a syllable too late. “Our room is three doors down.”

“I’m sure that is what all stalkers say. Very convenient.”

“We don’t normally do this.”

“So I’m special.”

“You’re unwell or you’re about to go into a heat.”

“You are appallingly bad at this.”

Lincoln coughed into his fist.

Her grip slipped on the door handle. She caught herself, and the movement pushed another wave of scent down the corridor, sweeter and more urgent. Lincoln’s breathing changed beside me.

I looked at him once. His jaw clenched, and he was fighting every instinct he owned.

So was I.

Twenty-three, she had said. Even if that were true, it was young enough that caution had to outrank want.

I took my key card out of my pocket, slowly.

Mary watched as though I’d produced a weapon.

I held it between two fingers and pointed down the corridor. “Room four sixteen.”

Her brows drew together.

“That’s where we’re staying,” I said. “If your flu turns into heat and you need alphas before the clinic can take you. Or if you feel unsafe and you want someone to take you to the heat clinic, we’re there.”

“You knock and you ask for help,” Lincoln said, rougher. “Nothing else.”

Mary stared at us. Her cheeks were flushed and her hairline was damp and her scent was climbing so fast my teeth ached from holding still.

“You’ll take me.” Then she shoved the key card in the lock with a violence that finally worked. The light went green. She opened the door and leaned one shoulder against the frame. “That’s very noble.”

“We don’t have to be noble.”

She looked between us, eyes bright and feverish, her mouth soft with heat and sharpened by pure will. “I have three dildos.”

“And a badly misplaced sense of optimism if you think that’ll be enough,” I said