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Leave the door open, my dad said, the second most common warning in his arsenal. Right behind, Nash, go home.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Behinds
Behind
Second
Nash
Leave
Arsenal
Open
Warning
Common
Dad
Home
Door
Right
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Walking around nude in front of humans was not a good way to keep a low profile with the community. It was an excellent way to make new friends, though.
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I'd just stepped out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end, with no floaties. And drowning was not an option.
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Come on, Kaylee, before I choke on testosterone and melodrama.
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I don't have you, and without you, it feels like what I do have doesn't matter.
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Marc didn’t want to win by default. He wanted to win for real. Forever.
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But if there was a protocol for how to say goodbye to your newly ex-boyfriend's brother, right after you kissed him and probably sent your ex into the arms of his willing ex-girlfriend, I didn't know what it was.
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His name's Nash. Aunt Val took a butter knife from the silverware drawer. What year is he? I groaned inwardly. Senior. ...here we go ... Her smile was a little too enthusiastic. Well that's wonderful! Of course, what she really meant was Rise from the shadows, social leper, and walk in the bright light of acceptance!
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Radley rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes at my father. Alpha of the south-central territory and head of the Territorial Council. Sure, I did that all the time but I'd also peed on his lap when I was two. No one else got away with such disrespect toward an Alpha, which meant Radley either didn't know who my father was, or didn't care
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I want you. I want only you. I want all of you. But I'll take whatever you're ready to give.
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But more than any of that, I was thankful for the possibility he'd shown me: that a man really could love a woman enough that he'd do anything to protect her. That's how much Tod loved Addy. That's how much I wanted Nash to love me.
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She watched me with a creepy sort of detached curiosity, as if I were a bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of her. I wondered briefly if she was the ant stomper type.
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I fell into that kiss like Alice into Wonderland, headfirst and flailing, heart pounding the whole time. The world spun around me and still I fell, and I only crashed down to earth again when someone called my name.
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His safety was more important than anything to me. Even if he would never know enough to understand that.
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Should I assume the lure is a certain attractive young dead man?
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But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.
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