And There Were Wolves

fifty sex | you showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else.

Xyrra's POV

Call me crazy, but before I opened the door, just by hearing the knock alone, I could tell that it was Ryker and despite everything else, my heart skipped a beat. I tried telling myself that it was just sex that we'd shared, but deep down I knew that I was fooling myself. There was something more. Something tantalizingly sweet and dangerously permanent.

"Hi," I greeted him with a smile. His lips formed a smile of his own, but his eyes looked somewhat sad. "What's wrong?" I quickly asked, walking past him so I could check his back. Perhaps he hadn't drunk enough blood and his wound reopened. My hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and picked it up so I could have a look at his wound when he suddenly turned around and caught my wrist.

A small frown creased in the middle of his brows as he regarded me curiously. There was that twinkle of humor in his silver eyes. "What are you doing? Are you planning to do something naughty?"

I rolled my eyes. "I just wanted to check your wound." I walked around him but he didn't let me go. We ended up doing a weird twirl.

"Come on," he held my hand and tugged. Out of curiosity, I followed him all the way to his bedroom.

I lifted one brow and gave him a pointed look. "I believe you're the one who plans on being naughty, dear Alpha."

Ryker shook his head. "Don't call me that. Call me by my name."

"I thought every alpha wanted to be called using their title." I tilted my head to one side, then recalled one time when Ryker had made Alana call him by his title. Not wanting to remind him of a bad memory, instead, I said, "everyone called you Alpha Ryker."

"You're not just everyone," he said with a frown. Then he cleared his throat and shook his head as if he was trying to clear his mind. It was evident that there was something bothering his mind — something he wasn't telling me.

"Siri, play 'Wonderful Tonight' by Eric Clapton," he ordered and a few seconds later, a rich fine melody was playing in the background through the speaker hidden in his bedroom. The music and Eric Clapton's beautiful voice filled the room. Ryker closed the door softly, then came back to take my hand and hold it against his chest. "Dance with me," he asked, his silver eyes pleading.

"I don't know how to do this kind of dance," I shied away. I was pretty confident that I would step on his toes.

"Please." He took a deep breath. "Just give it a try."

There was something in his eyes that told me he needed this. This was more than just a dance for him. "Okay but you need to teach me. I'm afraid I'll sever your toes by the end of this disastrous dance."

"Disastrous?" He held my hand, placed the other one on his shoulder before he captured my waist. Then we began to move. "Didn't you want this kind of dance at your wedding?"

I blinked, feeling so surprised that I stumbled upon him and nearly kneed him. "How'd you know?"

Humor twinkled in his silver eyes. "I may or may have not found something when we were at your house." He shrugged.

"Oh, no," I groaned, putting my head on his shoulder and trying to hide my face. "You found the stupid scrapbook, didn't you? It was just the thing I did with Dav when I was bored. It meant nothing. Most of those magazine articles were from Dav."

When Brett had told me about his dream and intention of marrying me after we graduated high school, Dav had brought several wedding magazines and made a scrapbook. She'd asked me what my dream wedding would be like. At first, I'd told her that I wasn't sure I could commit to someone, let alone Brett whom I'd only dated for three months at that time, but she'd insisted on saying that every girl must have a dream about their wedding. I'd gone along with her then, but right now I kinda regretted it, especially since Ryker had somehow found it and read it. Gosh, how embarrassing? I should have burned it.