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"You're bleeding." She brushed back his fur and gently touched the skin around a long gash. "This wasn't from a fight, was it?"
He shook his head, the only answer he could give in his limited form.
She stared into his eyes. Not a hint of fear showed in her expression. She treated his dad and the other dominants with the respect owed them by avoiding eye contact. Never with Nic, at least not in private, but the rules were different around the other wolves. Riley had always understood the need for hierarchy among the members. In the pack's eyes, she was as low as one could be. In his, she was his equal.
"Shift and tell me why you decided to drag your sorry ass to my house. None of these cuts need my attention."
Not happening. Through his wolf's eyes, he felt nothing physical toward her. Only his memories reminded him of what it was like to love her. If he shifted? One whiff of her sweet fragrance, and he'd want to devour her.
On a huff, she pushed to her feet. She planted her hands on her flaring hips. "Fine, be stubborn. I'm in no mood. Go home and lick your own wounds."