Quinlan's bathroom was the size of Luna Kaida's entire bedroom. And some more. His closet was just as large.
What could someone like that want with someone like me? I had nothing to offer. And it couldn't have been sex because I was an Omega, and they had made it very clear when the redhead, Mercer, said I reeked worse than any Omega that he'd had the displeasure of being around that they sure as hell didn't like me like that.
So, what was it?
I fidgeted, even as I wore the clothes that had been set out for me. There were two sets and I didn't bother touching the one on the left. It looked far too expensive to be given to me.
The ones I pulled on were simple, though, they still felt way too luxurious to be homewear. A baggy shirt and slacks that smelled faintly of perfume and that addictive scent all Lycans had. They clearly belonged to Quinlan.
I couldn't find my shoes anywhere, so I started out of the bedroom barefoot, marvelling in sheer wonder at the house outside the bedroom.
Sweet, freaking Goddess.
It was a mansion. A real, swear to the gods mansion. The staircases went down in spirals, the chandeliers sparkled with a soft glow, the walls were made of glass in the sitting room and I could see the vast yard outside, the gardens, the greenery and the unending, devastatingly, beautiful waterfall.
But the scent of something spicy and delicious tickled my nostrils, causing my stomach to growl angrily.
Following it brought me smack into the living room area, which naturally bled into the dining area and I stopped short when I found four pairs of eyes staring back at me.
If someone had told me a month ago that I would be in a house, having an early dinner with four Lycans, I would have laughed and told them they were mad.
But then again, if someone had told me they would have ever looked in my direction, I would have said the same thing.
Collectively, they glanced first at my hair. It was wet and back to its usual frizz, falling about my face in unruly curls. Then their gazes lowered to Quinlan's shirt sticking to my skin, then the pants, then my barefoot that I placed over the other.
My cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "I couldn't… I couldn't find my shoes."
The silence that followed was so thick, I felt a layer of it settle over my skin.
I sought solace in Quinlan's face, but his jaw was clenched, his fingers wrapped tightly around a glass of water. I didn't think he was breathing at all.
Something black flashed in his eyes and he made a small noise in his throat that sounded predatory and made my skin jump with fright.
"Quinn," the silver haired one warned.
Quinlan, ever the calm, expressionless one, snarled.
And lunged for me.
I screamed, stumbling back as his face morphed. Soren and the redhead moved, catching Quinlan before he could pounce on me, and the silver haired one came for me, grabbing me in a run so fast, I didn't even have a second to scream.
And we were moving at an impossible speed, putting enough distance between us from the house.
My heart was pounding in my chest as he set me down under a tree that sat close to the waterfall.
"W-what was that?" I asked, breath raspy. "What happened? Why did he react like that?"
Silver hair's amber eyes shimmered with irritation. "What do you think happened? You slept in his bed. You bathed in his oils. You wore his shirt and his scent. That's enough to send a 'fuck me' signal to any man and a 'claim me' to any animal." His hands clenched tight. "Remind me to give you the 'Dummies For Lycan Relations' handbook."
"He asked me to freshen up! Forgive me for assuming he meant I had to shower! And the clothes were set out for me to wear!" I shook, terrified. "Is he going to be alright?"
His eyes crinkled slightly. The scar on his upper lip stretched. "In a moment."
His voice was dark like sin. It was so deep it hit notes so low, a shiver ran down my spine. It made me dizzy and something that felt like heat sparked somewhere inside me like the flare of a flint.
For a moment, I wondered what it would feel like to grab him by the front of his grey Henley and bury my nose into his neck. He smelled like some exotic spice and it made me awfully hungry.
I blinked and shook my head violently.
Where did that thought come from? I didn't even know his name!
As if thinking it brought the thought close to the surface, my lips formed the words, "Your name. What is it?"
"Jericho," he said.
His amber eyes were like the sun. Perhaps, more beautiful. It was burning me from inside out and I couldn't help taking a step forward and reaching for him. To brush the silver strand of hair back from his forehead. To touch the scar on his beautiful mouth.
But he flinched back before I could reach him. And I caught myself, staring wide-eyed at my hand that had moved of its own volition.
What on earth was happening to me? First the bloodlust, and now, this? It was like fire had been set under my skin and I had to put it out.
And Jericho was the only one capable of doing so.
"What is happening to me?" I asked, and my voice came out throaty, husky.
Jericho jerked a step away from me, shoulders tightening with tension. "You are… changing."
"Changing?" I repeated, confused.
"We thought the chances were incredibly low, considering you do not have much wolf blood in you. But it has begun and there is no means to reverse our error."
I drew up blanks. "What are you talking about?"
Jericho exhaled. "You were bitten, Maisie Adams. In the next couple of months, you will either die from it or become one of us. A lycan."