Chapter 8
Eden
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I’m confused. Logan has made Elvira and me company day after day. He is like a silent bodyguard, and thanks to that Paris’s reign of terror has halted so abruptly that I half expect her to be plotting something catastrophic for when Logan is no longer watching my back.
And Azriel? He’s still watching me. Always watching.
The only normal thing in my life is Unwantedfridge99, who finally messaged back with a simple: “Your profile has your name. Sorry for freaking you out.”
I should’ve checked my profile settings. My face burned with embarrassment when I realized he was right–my full name was there for anyone to see. I’ve been chatting with him every night since, careful not to reveal too much while still enjoying the ease of talking to someone who doesn’t know the real nerdy little me.
“Logan sitting with us in the cafeteria is weird, right?” I whisper to Elvira as we walk to our lockers after the final bell. “Like, suspiciously weird.”
“It is, but maybe he’s dying and trying to atone for his sins?” Elvira suggests.
“That’s not funny,” I say, though a small part of me wonders if her wild guess is right. People don’t just change overnight without reason.
“Maybe not, but perhaps this means he won’t bully you for not being able to shape–shift at the pack ceremony tonight?”
“Wait, what? Pack ceremony? Tonight?”
“Eh, yes? Have you forgotten what date it is? It’s time for Logan’s Alpha ceremony. The entire pack will be there to pledge their loyalties.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how to react. Logan becoming the Alpha doesn’t feel like a good thing, but voicing that out loud isn’t smart. “I had completely forgotten about that…”
“Incoming,” Elvira whispers, bringing me out of my thoughts by nodding ahead.
I follow the nod, and my stomach does a somersault when I spot Azriel leaning against my locker. His dark hair falls across his forehead in that perfectly imperfect way that makes me want to brush it back. Not that I would. Not after the “heavier than you look” comment.
“Gods, he is hot,” Elvira whispers.
My cheeks burn. “He is a jerk.”
“A hot jerk,” Elvira snickers. “Anyway, I’ll see you later!”
My best friend abandons me to my fate and I immediately feel betrayed. I want to go after her, but I can’t avoid Azriel forever. He has been giving me looks.
Sighing, I walk to my locker. Azriel straightens when he sees me, unfolding his arms and standing to his full height. My neck cranes to look up at him.
“Excuse me,” I mutter. “You’re blocking my locker.”
“Eden,” he says, totally ignoring the last part. “I want to apologize for what I said the other night.”
I keep my eyes fixed on the combination lock. I can’t look at him. Can’t fall for how perfect he looks. Azriel is too capable of
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Chapter 8
making me both nervous and irritated.
My tongue darts out to wet my dry lips. “You already apologized.”
It doesn’t seem to matter to him that I whispered that. He hears it perfectly. “But you didn’t accept it?
I twist the dial with more force than necessary. “Look, it’s fine. You gave me a ride home. We’re even”
“We’re not even close to even.” His unfairly seductive voice drops even lower: “T’d like to make it up to you?
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“Make it up to me?” I scoff, relieved when I finally manage to yank my locker open. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? Call me ‘lighter than expected‘ next time?”
There’s a chuckle, and when I glance up at his stupidly pretty face, his lips curve into a half–smile. I was thinking, something, more along the lines of taking you out for dinner.”
Is he serious? “Dinner? With me?”
Azriel leans closer, and I’m once again assaulted by his cedarwood scent. He smells good. Too good. I’m also hypnotized by how enormous he is. Tall. Broad–shouldered. Large.
And what a chest….
I must be crazy because I kind of want to see how he looks without his clothes. His pecs are outlined in the black button- down shirt he is wearing, and I want to open it, one button after button, until he is on full display. I would never admit it, though. I’m too shy.
Azriel sighs. “Is it so hard to believe I want to take out for dinner?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly, shoving books into my backpack. “Guys who look like you don’t ask girls who look like me to dinner. That’s not how the universe works.”
“And how exactly do I look?”
I slam my locker shut, hoping it might hide the blush creeping up my neck. “Like you know exactly how you look.”
Azriel laughs. “You’re not what I expected, Eden Felicity.”
“And what did you expect?”
“Not for a werewolf your age to surprise me,” he smiles wickedly and moves closer until my back is pressed against the cold metal of the lockers.
My heart kicks up speed. I don’t like to be cornered. I have to tilt my head back to see his eyes, and I swear I see that flicker of violet again. But even without it, he is still intense. I shrink back, pressing myself against the lockers like a bunny about to get eaten by a wolf.
“I’m not interested in your games. F–find someone else to toy with.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” His eyes glitter with amusement. “Toying with you?”
“Aren’t you?” I hate how meek I sound.
Azriel lowers his head. “I’m not.”
Too close!
I put my hands on his hard chest to try and push him away, but he doesn’t move. And oh, wow. He’s really hard. I didn’t realize how well–trained he was until I touched him, and now all I can think about is his abs. My hands are pressed to his
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Chapter 8
lower ones, which are fascinating and make my girl parts sit up and pay attention.
“Finding something you like?” Azriel purrs.
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I snatch my hands away as if burned, mortification heating my face to nuclear levels. “I–I didn’t-” I stammer, trying to reclaim some dignity. “I was just trying to push you away!”
He chuckles again. “Were you? Because it felt more like… exploring.”
“Y–you’re delusional!”
I try to sidestep him, but he easily gets in my way again.
“Am I?” he teases. “Because this—” He places his large hand on my chest with an evil smile, “feels like a racing heart to me. Sounds like it too.”
My mouth goes dry. No human should be able to hear my heartbeat. “What are you?” I whisper before I can stop myself.
His lips curve into that dangerous half–smile. “Interested. In you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters right now.” He removes his hand. “Say yes to dinner.”
“I can’t!” I start rambling, too affected by his intense gaze to function. “My pack is… there’s a ceremony…and I’m… I’m busy… very busy!”
Azriel’s expression changes instantly. “Pack ceremony?”
Crap! A human isn’t supposed to hear about werewolf matters!
“I…I have to go! Goodbye!”
I bolt with my backpack glued to my chest while dodging students. I practically throw myself out the main doors.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mutter under my breath. Pack ceremonies are supposed to be secret from humans. If Alpha Marcus–or soon–to–be Alpha Logan–found out I’d mentioned it to an outsider, I’d be in serious trouble.
But Azriel isn’t human. He can’t be. No human moves that fast or hears heartbeats across a room.
So what is he?
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