7. Convictions
1636 Words
BLAZE
My heart thundered as I closed the door behind me, the soft click echoing too loudly in the silence. My wolf growled low in my chest, restless and alert, pacing beneath my skin like he was chasing something just out of reach.
It had been meant to be harmless flirting. A bit of fun before bed, a distraction to wind down the night. But the moment she looked at me—really looked at me—with those defiant eyes, something shifted.
And then I stepped closer, and everything went blank for a second.
My skin prickled with that memory... and my wolf almost whimpered, like a pathetic bastard. We both were.
Goddess.
That scent. Her scent.
Warm vanilla, like fresh-baked comfort, laced with the teasing bite of orange... sharp, bright, alive. It hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt dizzy.
My smile had nearly faltered, and it was hard not to lean in and touch her.
I wasn’t used to that kind of feeling.
My brothers liked to joke that I was a playboy, the one who never took things seriously. And they weren’t wrong—I did enjoy women, the game, the tension. I liked to make them laugh, fluster them, watch them squirm in that sweet spot between curiosity and control.
But tonight?
For the first time… I was the one flustered.
She had no idea. No clue what she did to me. That one innocent little glance, the way her eyes lingered like she wasn’t sure what to do with me, was enough to short-circuit my brain.
I ran a hand through my damp hair, exhaling hard.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Not with her. Like she said, she was a prisoner.
"But... she smelled so delicious," Dax said, his tongue lolled out. "And I wanted to lick her entire body."
I shuddered, my head falling back against the pillow as I tried to shake off the lingering heat curling low in my gut.
I shuddered, imagining her skin under my tongue, her taste on my lips. And my coc.k stiffened. Goddess. I was turning into a full-blown pervert. My wolf was pacing behind my ribs like he already knew what she’d feel like—and he liked it.
Shit.
If Shade knew what was going on in my head right now, he’d murder me in my sleep with one of his throwing knives, and he would hide the evidence.
As if summoned by my filthy conscience, a sharp knock rattled the door.
“What?” I snapped, already guessing who it was.
“Open the f*****g door,” Shade grunted through the wood. Real charmer, my brother. I loved the guy, but sometimes I wondered what exactly it would take to melt that goddamn icicle jammed up his ass since birth.
I yanked the door open. “What do you want?”
Shade stood there, arms crossed, jaw locked, looking like he was one scowl away from cracking stone. Classic.
“I’m just here to warn you,” he said, tone like gravel, “keep your distance from her.”
I blinked. “Who?”
I knew exactly who. I just wanted to push him.
“You know who. Her. Kylen’s mate.”
“You mean... Avery?” I said, lifting an eyebrow. “She has a name, Shade.”
“I don’t care. Just don’t try to… you know, do your thing.” He waved his hand around with a frown.
“My thing?” I stepped back and gave him a slow, s**t-eating grin. “You mean be charming? Friendly? Attractive?”
Shade’s scowl deepened, his hand twitching like he wanted to punch something. Preferably my face.
“Are you seriously telling me not to flirt with her? Why? Since when do you care who I flirt with?”
He didn’t answer, just clenched his jaw harder.
“Oh, I see,” I murmured, tilting my head. “You’re worried she might flirt back.”
“She’s Kylen’s mate,” he growled, low and vicious. His wolf was simmering just under the surface, and it made me happy that my usually collected brother was not so in control anymore.
“And?” I said. “Kylen isn't here. If she wants to flirt back with me, I don't give a f**k what Kylen thinks."
Shade’s nostrils flared. He growled.
“And let me be clear,” I continued. “She’s not yours, either. So if you’re feeling all weird and growly because you don’t know what to do with the way she makes you feel, that’s a you problem, brother.”
His eyes snapped to mine, glowing faintly. “She’s off limits, Blaze.”
“Why? Because... you want to claim--"
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he warned, his voice like ice. "She is responsible for Amelia's death. Why would I want someone poisonous like that?"
"Well, ask yourself, but don't tell me what to do."
Silence. For a second, neither of us breathed. Then Shade muttered a curse and turned, stomping down the hall like his boots were made of thunder.
I watched him go before I closed the door behind me.
"That went well, I think," I said with a frown.
"Extremely well," Dax said with a smirk. "And he wants her."
"He definitely wants her, but Shade is all about his implied morals. So he won't act on it."
"Does it mean... You will act on it?" Dax looked eager.
"I will, but only if she enjoys it."
I had a feeling she would enjoy it.
***
I took a quick shower and changed into a t-shirt. I was going to climb under my covers when I heard another knock.
"What is it this time, Shade?"
"It's me."
"Thee, what do you want?" I asked, pulling the door open. He stormed into the room, looking quite disturbed. "What is it?"
"It's her."
"Looks like he is just as affected," Dax commented. "What is it about her? All of you are bent out of shape."
"I don't know."
He was usually the calm, collected one.
"What? Did you want to warn me to stay away from her, too?" I asked with a frown. Thier blinked, as if he didn't understand what I was talking about.
"What? What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.
"Nothing. So... what do you want to say? What did Avery do to you now?" I asked, voice tensed.
"She told me she didn't kill Amelia, that she didn't kill anyone, and her conscience is clear," Thier said, his brow furrowed, eyes flicking to the floor like he was trying to put together a puzzle that didn’t make sense. “Why would she say that?”
"I saw it the moment I looked at her," I replied, jaw tight. "She didn’t look like a f*****g killer. She looked like someone who’d just crawled out of hell with half her soul still burning."
Thier looked at me sharply. “What are you saying?”
I gave a small shrug.
“That she’s innocent?” Thier pressed, his voice quiet, like if he said it too loudly, Amelia’s ghost might rise up and scream in protest.
Amelia was like a sister to all of us, but Thier was particularly close with her. She was his best friend, and she was the only one he opened up about everything. When she died, Thier stopped talking for two weeks, like somehow words didn't matter anymore.
Her death affected him the most, just as much as it hurt Marcus, Amelia's brother.
I didn’t answer right away.
“Maybe,” I said finally. “I don’t know. But I am saying something’s off about all of this."
Thier’s lips parted, and he stared at me with disbelief.
“But Ames said… the Luna knew—” he broke off, rubbing a hand down his face. “Are you thinking with your d**k again?” he hissed, voice suddenly sharp. “Is that what this is? She gave you one pretty look, and now you're her goddamn knight in shining armor?”
I bristled instantly. “Thank you, brother, for your immense trust in me. That means so much.”
He flinched. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” His shoulders sagged. “I can’t... Amelia said the Luna knew. She is the Luna..."
“I know how much Amelia meant to you,” I said quietly. “I do. But I still don't think Avery is a killer."
“Amelia trusted the Luna. Said the Luna would help her,” he murmured. “Then she died."
“Amelia didn’t even look like she knew who she was when she came through that door, Thier,” I said, my voice low and firm. “She looked lost. Starved. Confused. Poisoned.”
Thier was quiet. He hated this. Hated doubting Amelia’s last words. Hated that some small part of him was beginning to wonder if maybe things weren’t so black and white.
“I’ll find out the truth,” I said. “I’m not saying forgive her. I’m saying… maybe she deserves a chance to be heard.”
Thier gave me a long, haunted look.
“If Avery's lying…” he began.
“She’s not,” I cut in.
“You better hope you’re right,” he muttered. “Because if she had anything to do with Amelia’s death, I’ll tear her apart and then I'll do the same to her mate.”
He turned and stalked out of the room, his back stiff.
I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, rubbing my face.
Goddess, let me be right about her.
Because if I was wrong...
And I didn't want to... hurt her. I really didn't want to.
___
- Writer
