"My dad sold me to a pack of werewolves to settle his gambling debt."
❀
"I'm going to count to three," Logan growls. He doesn't have to say the rest. If I haven't come to him by then, he'll come to me... and I'll regret it.
I know this game, and I...
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I take a hesitant step toward where Logan is sitting on my bed. I'm hyper aware of fact that it's just the two of us alone in my bedroom, with the door closed, and that all I'm wearing is this silky, saffron dress. I don't even have shoes on, and my hair is wet, which somehow makes things feel even more intimate. At least I've got stuff on under the dress, but just thinking about my underwear around Logan makes my cheeks flood with color.
"Um... what do you want to talk about?" I ask, blushing even harder.
"Come, sit." Logan pats a spot on the bed next to him, seeming completely oblivious to my racing thoughts and obvious discomfort.
I gulp, hesitate again, and then close the rest of the distance between us. I should probably be thinking about whatever it is Logan wants to talk about anyway, but my mind refuses to move past the bed... and the fact that when I sit down, we're both on it, even though I leave a huge gap of space between us.
Is Logan thinking about that too? Does he wish I sat closer, close enough that our legs touched? Close enough that he could kiss me? I look up at him, and catch his gaze trailing down a strand of my wet hair to my bare shoulder. I touch the strand nervously and Logan lets out a loud growl and jumps to his feet.
"What?" I ask in surprise. Did I say or do something to make him move across the room to where I was standing moments earlier? Why did he ask me to sit down if we were just going to switch spots?
"Father's going to make the announcement soon." Logan growls, loudly, like he's about to lose control of his wolf. He grips his hands behind his back, and the muscles on his arms bulge with the obvious strain.
"What announcement?" I ask. And why do I get the feeling that whatever it is, it's bad news? Oh yeah... because we're talking about POW here.
"Well," Logan suddenly grins, and I rethink the 'bad news' part, "now that you can link and you've proved you're not an Omega—"
"Wait," I jump to my feet, "I can link?"
"Yeah." Logan nods like it's no big deal. Which I guess it isn't—for him. He's been able to do it his whole life, but I haven't. "You don't remember?"
"No." I frown. Did it happen while I was recovering? I guess it must have, but it doesn't really matter. Not when I can link. "Can we try it?" I ask, feeling a wave of excitement. Please, I beg silently, hoping Logan will be able to hear me over the link.
A second passes, then two, then three, but Logan doesn't reply.
"Hello?" I wave a hand in front of his face. "Can we try it? Please, Logan?"
