Rille (Tribes, Book 2)

Chapter 31

Brielle had played her part better than Preston had anticipated she would. Now, the Rille Reservation was alive with the buzz of scandalous news.

Ava Bowyer was acting and directing in a play of her own making. Preston Stryker, Alpha, had never acknowledged a marriage pact with the Bowyer family. In fact, he had chosen to mate a human. A True Mate. For that, Tribe Rille's respect for their alpha skyrocketed.

Over the past decade, Preston had taken their pharmaceuticals to the world. That, and his reputation as a skilled Hunter, had built a better image of shifters in the eyes of the humans outside.

For all intents and purposes, Preston was their hero. The first to build the courage to bring a True Mate on the res. Others now expressed their wishes to follow suit.

The first stage of his plan to revive the tribe had been successful. Not to mention, public opinion had turned away from the Bowyer's pureblood line to embrace Tribe Rille's first human woman.

Not that he had told Brielle, but in the last twenty-four hours, she had gained a fan club. There were slogans, fan videos, and everything.

"Why is everything in this house on the top shelf?" Brielle's voice, as though summoned from Preston's thoughts, floated to him from the bedroom door.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of water droplets hitting the floor and shattering.

Preston almost didn't dare to look up from his morning reading. But he couldn't resist.

It was a bad idea, as it turned out. Brielle stood in the doorway, water cascading from her hair like rain from leaves. A beige towel wrapped around her torso was too askew to cover much, and her hands planted on her hips urged Preston to force some of that defiance out of her.

"Counter-question." Preston set the file he had been reading onto the coffee table, using every ounce of control left in his body. "Why do you keep insisting on walking around my house looking like..." he allowed his eyes to hungrily devour each inch of her body, "...that?"

Brielle rolled her eyes, as always. "It's nothing you haven't seen. Why should I hide it?"

Preston closed his eyes, to regain his wits and formulate a calm answer. "Just because I've seen it, darling, doesn't mean I'm immune to it."

"Should we use desensitization therapy, then?" Brielle reached for the corner of her towel that she had tucked in to hold it up.

Preston was across the room before she had time to blink, his hands lifting her lips to his and his feet moving her backward. Through the bedroom. To the open floor-to-ceiling window on the other side.

Brielle's back hit the iron railing on the balcony, her arms outstretched to grip it firmly and not let go.

"Someone will see us," she muttered half-heartedly against Preston's lips.

Preston grinned as he snaked one arm behind her back to keep her from falling over the banister. "I don't care."

"They'll talk," Brielle pressed.

"You're mine. Do they dare gossip?"

"Probably not, but are you okay with other wolves seeing me naked?"

"You're wearing a towel. They won't see."

Brielle released the banister to press a hand against Preston's chest. "Don't be a nympho. Let's go back inside."

Preston tilted his head to nip at her ear.

Down the street, a wolf bounded around a corner. It shot one look over its shoulder, his eyes flashing neon in the sunlight.