Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground

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a low and sweet range.
    He ran a hand down her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Sorry, and thanks. Brother Wolf tends to be a little literal, and he doesn’t like you hurt.” He found himself smiling, even though he was still reeling. “Brahms?”
    She gave an uncertain laugh and backed up so she could look him in the eye. “Sorry, I was panicked. And music seems to help me focus . . . whatever it is I can do. Soothing music. And the Lullaby just seemed appropriate. Are you all right?”
    â€œFine—” he said, then realized that he was lying, so he amended it. “I’ll be fine.” Yeah, it was a sharp right his life had taken. Having a mate was throwing both him and his wolf off their game—and he wasn’t inclined to complain. He smiled to himself. She even sang lullabies to him—and he liked it.
    Somehow he’d managed to stay on his feet, thus avoiding a dunking in the cold water, and still had his father’s present for Dana.
    â€œShall we go see the fae?” he asked politely, as if he hadn’t just had some sort of . . . epiphany, metaphysical almost breakdown . . . he didn’t have the words.
    â€œSure.” Anna took his free hand, and the touch of her skin was better than her embrace because it was her flesh on his.
    Brother Wolf gave a groan of contentment and settled down, even though he was always unhappy around the fae, any fae. They weren’t pack and never could be. He himself liked her as well as he’d ever liked any fae. About Dana, he and Brother Wolf agreed to disagree.
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    THE boat had a door, just like a real house. Anna waited while Charles knocked. She used her eyelashes to hide how intently she watched him. His control was so good she’d had no idea there was something wrong until she’d looked up after a couple of back flips to see his eyes, gold and savage—and then she’d felt him, all of him. Too much to process, too much to see, all she’d felt was his pain. He was rebuilding the walls between them now. She didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or not.
    He seemed to have it all together now, but she kept her hand on his back, tucked up under his jacket, where she could feel the muscles, smooth and relaxed under her fingertips.
    Over the smell of brine, vegetation, and city, she could smell turpentine—but no one came to greet them.
    Charles opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Dana? My da sent us to bring you a present.”
    It felt like the whole world paused with interest, but the fae didn’t say anything.
    â€œDana?”
    Sound, when it came, emerged from over their heads. “A present?”
    Anna looked up and saw that a second-story window was open.
    â€œThat’s what he told me,” Charles said.
    Anna could tell that he liked the fae by the warmth in his voice. She wasn’t prepared for him to like her; he liked so few people. The wolf inside her, brought out by whatever had happened on the docks, stirred uneasily, possessively, protectively.
    â€œBring it here, then, dear boy. I’m up in the studio, and I don’t want to track paint all over the place.”
    Dear boy? Anna felt her eyes narrow. It appeared the affection was mutual.
    He took her hand absently. Her wolf settled at his touch as she followed him through the door in the side of the boat. Charles seemed to know where he was going, or maybe he was just following the biting smell of turpentine.
    She glanced around as she followed him deeper. There were paintings of butterflies and moths lining the hall. The rooms to either side were small and cozy, decorated in purples, pinks, and blues—as if a team of Disney animators had come in and decorated it to make the perfect fairy abode. One room held an artificial waterfall that burbled with manic cheer. A twin-sized bed took up the rest of the space. The whole place smelled of salt water and the same odd

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