Knot of the Moon - Chapter 8: The Pack Gathering Risk

Chapter 8: The Pack Gathering Risk

Vance

I watched Logan dress with dark satisfaction.

He stood in front of the full-length antique mirror in our bedroom, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to adjust the collar of the heavy charcoal dress shirt I’d selected for him. No matter how high he pulled the fabric, it couldn’t fully hide the structural devastation I’d left all over his skin.

There were fresh, dark purple mating bites marking the slope of his neck, and deep, distinct bruises on his narrow hips in the exact shape of my massive fingerprints. Even the way he stood betokened my ownership—his posture slightly bowed, his thighs careful and hesitant, moving like he could still feel the phantom mass of my knot stretching his inner walls open.

“Hold still,” I growled, stepping up behind him.

His shoulders went rigid as my shadow swallowed him in the glass. I reached around his waist, pulling his back flush against my chest, and dragged my tongue slowly over the most prominent bite mark on his neck. I coated the broken skin with my saliva to mask the sharpest notes of the blood, then rubbed my heavy wrists and bare chest against his back, shoulders, and throat.

I layered the dominant, wood-smoke scent glands of my skin heavily over his own, burying his baseline biology beneath my command. By the time I stepped away to throw on my own leather jacket, he reeked entirely of me. Exactly how I wanted him.

“You’re going to behave tonight,” I warned, meeting his wet, wide eyes in the reflection. “One wrong look to another alpha, one hint of that old city defiance, and I’ll bend you over the Alpha’s formal dining table and fuck you blind in front of the entire council.”