78

KINGSTON

Sunday stepped around the corner, her hair mussed, cheeks flushed, and eyes dark with arousal. My wolf snarled deep in my chest, annoyed that our mate looked that way because of another man.

“Kingston,” she said, not a flicker of guilt in her eyes at getting caught by me. “What are you doing?”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing? I’m waiting for you.” I knew she could tell by the bite to my voice that I’d been waiting a while. And that I knew the reason for her delay.

She came close, standing up on tiptoe to press a kiss to my cheek. “You didn’t have to wait.”

“Why wouldn’t I? No way I’m going to let you roam around by yourself when you’re the personification of demon bait.”

One brow cocked, she stared at me. “Demon bait? Really?”

“Yeah. Look at you. If I were a demon, I’d be all over you by now.”

“Not to mention you were singled out in the library attack,” Alek drawled, stepping out of a nearby alley.

“What is this? An intervention?” Sunday grumbled.