THE SENSATION OF BEING part of a pack again, even for just a little while, prevented me from complaining as Malachi carried me as easily as if I was a little girl over to his SUV and dumped me inside. So I didn’t attempt to wriggle out of his grasp, nor did I complain about my companion’s high-handedness when he bit out a curt “Buckle up” before circling back around to the driver’s seat.
Still, the moment of physical separation before Malachi reentered the vehicle was enough to clear the seductive allure of pack out of my mind. And as soon as my brain kicked back into gear, a sinking sensation developed in the pit of my gut.
Malachi’s visit isn’t a social call, I realized.
Unfortunately, my hunch was proven correct as soon as Malachi settled his massive bulk into the driver’s seat. Rath
