Vaughn scrubbed the side of his head, shorn close with tattoos showing through. He had black hair, gray eyes and was built like a tank. “Glad you made it.”
Fergus lifted his coffee mug. “Here, here.” He had a rough wolf’s voice, something common in Savage Territory.
Brannick thanked him for helping out as well.
“My pleasure.” The wolf’s gaze, however, slid back to Juliet and he tracked her more than Brannick liked.
He knew enough about shifter ways to understand it wasn’t personal; wolves, especially alphas, were constantly on the hunt for the right female. Despite Brannick’s understanding of the situation, he took a step farther into the kitchen and caught Fergus’s eye.
Brannick lifted a brow.
Fergus eyed him with a wicked glint in his eye, then took a sip of coffee. Shifter rules were different. A woman was free game unless spoken for.
Brannick stared hard at Fergus. “Keep your paws off, Fergus. Juliet’s mine. And don’t think I won’t fight you in one of your sand pits, if it comes to that.” Savage Territory had a number of pits they used for fighting, usually dominance battles among the males. As an alpha, Fergus had seen his fair share. Brannick had witnessed a couple and thought it possible he’d never survive a contest with Fergus. But like hell he wouldn’t put up a fight.
Fergus had a mane of dark hair with a braid on one side. He was a handsome bastard and exuded a quality – some said a wolf musk – that had women following him in droves.
A plate with a fork appeared in front of Brannick. Juliet wore a crooked smile, her eyes full of laughter. “Eat. Now. You’re still looking a little pale. And if you’re going to battle Fergus, you’ll need a little more muscle on your vampire bones.”
Both Vaughn and Fergus chuckled. Juliet hadn’t tried to refute his verbal claim on her. She knew wolves as well, since Revel bordered Savage Territory.
Her nearness, however, had awakened a couple of other needs, one of them very vampire, the other typically male. Despite his serious reservations about getting involved with Juliet, he almost set the plate down, crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. If they’d been alone, he would have. His drive toward her seemed to be increasing at light speed.
But she was right about his need for food, and the aroma of the bacon called to him.
He stood at the counter, at a right angle to Vaughn, and dug in.
After he’d finished half his meal, he glanced at Juliet. She leaned her hip against the far counter. Her arms were crossed over her chest, though she still held her mug in her hand. She looked amused.
What’s so funny?
She shrugged. I know we’re alter species and all that, but every man I’ve ever known seems to chow down in the same way, like his life depends on it.
Brannick shrugged, but smiled. It’s a primal need.
Like other things he could think of.
Of course the real question was whether he should engage with her at all. His instincts told him she would be a willing partner, even in real-time and despite his professed reservations about what they’d been doing in the dream-world.
As he finished his meal, four security guards flew in, two warlocks from Elegance and two shifters from Savage. Vaughn explained that he and Fergus had decided to split the team with warriors from each territory.
Brannick greeted each one and thanked them for being willing to help out. He didn’t take their involvement lightly. Roche was a demon with a small army he could put to use at any time.
Vaughn took off shortly afterward, needing to be back at the safe house, but Fergus remained. He spoke in his rough voice. “Vaughn asked me to stay for the duration, so I will.”
Simple as that.
Brannick told the remaining men in detail about the dreamglide attack, then added that Roche was after Juliet to join his stable.
Even Fergus let loose with a sound somewhere between a growl and a disgusted grunt. Brannick couldn’t have agreed more.
When Juliet moved closer to the group, Brannick watched as Fergus changed places with the warlock next to him, making sure Fergus was positioned farther away from Juliet.
Brannick approved. Fergus had a wildness about him, more than usual. He thought the shifter might be entering the mating phase of his annual cycle. For an alpha wolf that was a tough time, requiring tremendous self-control, especially around women who met his mating criteria. Clearly, Juliet was one of those.
Brannick glanced at Juliet and watched as she twisted a long curl around her finger. He became aware suddenly that he’d seen her do this dozens of times. Without warning, another dreamglide memory surfaced from their five months together, arriving in brilliant hues and sounds like the other two before this one.
Jesus H. Christ.