12
I don’t know how much time passed. His wolf tail was still tightly wrapped around my waist, refusing to let go.
I finally lost patience, flipping my hand to pull a small knife from under the pillow. I tapped his still-flushed face with the flat of the blade.
“Are you done yet?”
Caleb showed no fear. He even leaned in closer, pressing a dense string of kisses against
my neck.
“Get off me.”
My face expressionless, I pushed his head away.
But I couldn’t resist, reaching out to rub his soft wolf ears.
A low chuckle spilled from his throat. Caleb finally stood up.
“Wait for me. I’ll be right back.”
Before he left, he leaned in, planting a lingering kiss on my forehead, and pressed something cold into my hand.
I was startled, opening my palm.
It was a young wolf’s milk tooth, polished to a milky white sheen, set in silver, strung on a
delicate chain.
It was presented with such solemnity, as if his entire life was tied to it.
It felt cool to the touch, yet strangely warm.
I clutched the necklace, and belatedly, a flush of warmth crept up my neck, all the way to my earlobes.
Heaven help me, when I bought Caleb, I really hadn’t intended to sleep with him.
