I returned to my mother's favorite room and the small party and headed straight for the patio, snagging a glass of wine along the way.

I rarely drank. But not tonight—hells no!

By the time I'd reached the French doors, I'd downed half the glass.

Well, this will never do.

Spinning on a heel I marched for the wet bar and snatched up a bottle. Whatever kind of red wine it was, I didn't care.

Evvie and Sage entered the room. My nostrils twitched as my wraith-wolf bound up with the rank smell of rotting chicken carcass wafting from his panting breath. Leaning down, I tickled him under the chin as he nudged into my side. I should have called Sage the moment Graysen kissed me and ordered the beast to bite his stupidly beautiful face off.

Evvie instantly knew I was upset, and concern lined her features as she threaded through the Pelans toward me.

But Corné waved out to her.

Well, it was more like an arrogant snap of his fingers.

I snarled softly in his direction.

Indecision made Evvie still, her blue-green eyes flitted between us.

She hitched a shoulder as her hands twined together in apology.

We were sisters and I could read her body language as easily as if she'd spoken aloud the word—Sorry.

I shrugged, scrunching my nose—It's okay.

Besides, I wanted to be alone anyway.

My heels clipped over smooth flagstone pavers as I walked through the French doors and out onto the patio. Like my mother's room, the patio was small and intimate, boxed in with lush plantings of lilac bushes that rustled with a gentle breeze. In one corner was wrought-iron outdoor furniture. I refilled my wine, left the bottle on the table, and wandered over to the stone fence enclosing the patio, that overlooked the lawns. Gripping the cool stone railing with one hand, I took a generous sip of wine. A few contractors had just finished delivering the last of the cargo containers and were leaving. Their trucks' headlights swept across the lawn as they rumbled away.

Storm clouds hovered low against a darkening sky. I sucked in a lungful of air. The atmosphere felt damp, helping to douse the heat burning inside my body. I rubbed my forehead with my inner wrist.

What the hells has just happened?

There'd always been something that charged the air around us whenever Graysen and I were in each other's presence. I never understood it, not since I saw Graysen for the first time when we were children. He was older, messing around with his brothers at a House gathering. I didn't remember what we were all there for, I only remembered finding myself watching him and catching him watching me back. And it had been the same, every single time we'd encountered one another.

Now we were older, our awareness of one another hadn't changed, it had become more intense. I wasn't sure he'd ever acknowledge it. But he must feel it like I did. Surely.

For the first time, ever, we'd touched!

He'd been pissed, wanting to smear my mouth with residue from the chili juice I'd spiked his drink with. But, hells, the moment his calloused fingers wrapped around my arm, every single nerve ending caught fire. I'd become a living sparkler, fizzing and crackling.

Blowing out a pent-up breath, I jittered from foot to foot, trying to tease out the remnants of that touch still scorching through me.

I turned to lean my back against the railing and stare through the windows at the Pelans and my family gathered inside. Chatter, music seeping through the open doors—a welcome distraction from the thoughts tumbling around in my head.

Except I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened.

A prickling sensation had my glance swinging wide to peer through the open French doors. I tipped my head back, groaning, before swilling back another mouthful of wine. Sure enough, it was him strolling through the room with that godsdamn arrogant swagger, blatantly ignoring the outstretched hand of one of the younger Pelan brothers wanting to greet him. He'd taken his jacket off and had it slung over his arm. He'd also rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt and my gaze slipped all over the ink coiling down his forearms. He looked divine in a suit but I preferred him in tight t-shirts and jeans that hugged his ass just right.

Desire pooled low in my belly and I loathed myself for being attracted to him. The man was mean more often than not.

My attention snagged on the three women swiping appreciative gazes all over Graysen as he moved through the room. I could feel my ire rising at Carola, her younger sister, and the ogling brunette. My gaze sharpened on the sleek, dark-haired woman. I wasn't sure where she fitted in with the Pelans. She wasn't a cousin. Perhaps she was Carola's assistant or even a friend?

Whatever, they were welcome to him.

Ugh, why am I lying to myself?

I shifted to the cluster of ornate chairs and a pretty loveseat in the gloomy corner of the patio with palm fronds dipping overhead. A good place to hide in the shadows. I sank down into the soft cushions and touched my lips which were still swollen and throbbing from the feel of his mouth on mine.

My skin itched. And not in a bad way. In a way that said I hadn't managed to rid myself of his touch, my body remembering what it felt like pressed against him.

I'd always been curious to know what he'd feel like.

Heated silk and hard-packed muscle.

Sublime.

And then he kissed me.

Stop it, stop it now!

My frazzled nerves got too much for me.

I jumped up.

I sat back down.

Got back up again.

I couldn't get myself together, nor stop thinking about that damned kiss.

It wasn't a godsdamned kiss—he said so himself.

My skirt flared with my agitated movement as I paced back and forth, and with every sip of wine, my steps became a little more wobbly.

I had no idea at all what Graysen had intended to do when he'd thrust me against the wall, pressing his hard body against my own. I'd opened my mouth to let loose a string of curses and he'd kissed me.

I was so surprised by it all, I couldn't do anything. While his harsh lips had moved over mine and his tongue invaded my mouth, I'd been frozen in place, shocked into submission, just feeling and trying to catalog all the new sensations exploding inside me as he plundered my mouth. My entire body had strangely felt taut and loose all at once.

And the power lurking beneath my skin had slipped its leash and seeped outward. The charged air pulsed in time with my pounding heart and even the wall he'd pinned me against vibrated as the creature purred, rumbling in delight that we were finally giving in to whatever it was that bound us together.

I didn't think Graysen had noticed. But this was dangerous. I couldn't let him kiss me again.

Shit, shit, shit—

"Sage," I groaned, weaving my fingers through his cool wisps of misty fur, "what have I done?"

That kiss meant nothing to him. But to me...it had just made things really confusing.

It had been brutal and not kind in any way. Nothing at all like I'd daydreamed about.

I may have liked it far too much.

Godsdammit!

I took another gulp of wine. Warmth spilled down my throat and warmed my belly with a tingling sensation that wasn't so much about Graysen, but more about the alcohol heating my blood. I rubbed my silky skirt against my thighs, starting to feel a little better. But still, an exasperated sigh escaped me. Didn't I want sweet and gentle? Didn't I want someone to kiss me tenderly?

No, I didn't.

I'm wild just like him.

I didn't like him.

Well, that wasn't exactly true.

However, I knew he didn't like me, yet he'd liked me enough to kiss me.

And why was I now wondering if he'd kiss me again, this time properly?

No, I wasn't wondering, I was hoping.

Ah, godsdammit!

I flopped back down the pretty seat, putting my drink down on the side table to lean forward and knead my forehead with the heels of my palms. Sage was curled up by my feet, his head resting on his paws, huffing. My groan was a loud tortured sound.

How could my first kiss be with Graysen Crowther?

I was too busy debating with myself to realize I wasn't alone.

The loveseat cushions dipped as someone sat down beside me. I peeked a sideways glance.

Vexation struck like a bolt of lightning.

I sat up straight and folded my arms across my chest, glaring at Graysen. What was this? We go from spending all those days together barely speaking, to this? I couldn't get away from him. He was every-fucking-where.

Graysen's cheeks rounded with a smug smile. "Still thinking about that kiss, little bird?"

My mouth fell open, then puckered. "You said it wasn't a kiss."

"I've changed my mind." His gaze dipped to my mouth, lingering there. "I can give you another if you like."

"I don't like."

"Liar." His heated look danced all over me. "Just how innocent are we talking here?"

Confessing I've never been kissed should have given him an idea. I don't know why he was asking. Probably just to mess with me.

His curiosity in me only got more intense, that gaze becoming more interested, as it slid slowly from my mouth to glide along my jawline and down my throat.

A flush of heat licked up my neck under his intense absorption. I mean I knew things, read about them, and watched them in films. I just hadn't ever experienced anything. But Graysen didn't need to know that. I lifted my chin defiantly. "I am not talking about my sexual experiences here, and certainly not with you."

I got up, snatching my glass of wine from the side table.

He stood too and tossed his jacket across the back of an elegant chair. He watched as I took a mouthful of wine, before becoming thoughtful. "I've never seen you drink before."

I arched a defiant look—And, so?

Leaning down, I scooped up the wine bottle. I refilled my glass, watching the red liquid pouring into the crystal while fighting the urge to fill it to the brim.

"I just thought you didn't drink."

"I needed something to cleanse the taste of you away. Sterilize my mouth."

My eyes narrowed. There it was again—he'd flashed a sudden, delighted grin. For some strange reason, he loved my bite.

As I moved back to the railing I stumbled a little. Whoops! I flung a hand out to steady myself. Things were getting a little wobbly. But the warmth of wine was nice, like a cuddly blanket.

"Shit, how much have you had to drink?"

"Not nearly enough," I tossed back at him, not bothering to look. I gazed out over the lawns, at the mini-city of containers, shooting my line of sight all the way back to the tree line of the woodland. Normally I could see the details of individual leaves but I didn't have night vision like Graysen. And—

Hang on, everything was getting a bit blurry.

Ooooh, maybe I have had a little bit too much to drink. Oh, well—

And I took another long, long, long sip.

I heard him walking up behind me, and felt his body heat warming my back a second later as he crowded me against the fence, bracing a hand on the railing on either side of me.

"It was awful," I airily declared, drumming an angry beat on the railing with my fingers. "Just awful."

Spiteful liar—the creature inside me rumbled.

Yes, I am—I replied.

I turned around and found myself caged in by his broad body. I had to crane my neck back—hells, he was tall.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at me down the length of his nose. He knew exactly what I was referring to.

"I'm surprised you have the reputation you do with a gods-awful kiss like that." I swilled back another generous sip of wine, wiping away the beads of liquid from my lips with the back of my hand. It wasn't, perhaps, my most classiest move.

But he chose to ask, "Reputation?" His smile got broader, a challenge glinting in his dark eyes. "Oh do tell, little bird."

I frowned. He wanted me to spell it out for him? I made a disgusted noise at the back of my throat, and flicked my braid over the other shoulder, instead replying, "You pretty much just smeared your tongue and saliva all over my mouth."

He lifted a shoulder in the way of apology. "It wasn't my finest kiss. I just wanted a little bit of payback."

I snorted.

"You spiked my drink with chili," he growled. But there was something else shimmering in those black eyes. A pinch of respect. A dash of admiration.

I grinned, "I did, didn't I," doing a little squiggle with my shoulders. Ha-ha,-gotcha, Crowther! "And you didn't see it coming." With the alcohol fizzing in my blood, warming my belly, and muddling my thoughts, maybe that's why I tapped him playfully on the nose. He batted my hand away, but he was smiling. It was a little dark that smile, a little intense, and—

Shit, why is he staring at my mouth like that?

My heart stumbled a beat.

A bolt of arousal razed down my spine straight to my core.

The golden light spilling from the lanterns set up around the patio gilded his features, the planes of his cheekbones, the square jaw. Mischief danced in his eyes still lingering on my mouth before snapping back up to my open gaze.

He cocked his head, brows nudging together, silently asking—What?

"You do realize how stupidly beautiful you are?"

Shit, did I just say that out loud?

"Stupidly beautiful?" he echoed, his thick brows slashing upward in surprise.

"Yeeeeaaah beautiful stupid," I drawled. I pointed a finger at his face, using the hand holding the wine glass, and drew it around in a wobbly circle. He pulled back a bit. Fair enough—the wine was sloshing over the lip of the glass, spilling droplets over my dress. Godsdammit. "All that stupid hair." I squinted, rising on tippy-toe to tug the hank of hair over his forehead. "Do you just wake up like that or do you spend foreveeerrr getting it tousled just right?"

He huffed a laugh.

I tapped his lips. "And that stupid mouth." I pinched his lips between my thumb and finger. "Stupid beautiful mouth."

That stupid hair and that stupid mouth and those stupid eyes. I blew out a breath, my lips vibrating with the gesture. I lay my palm flat on his cheek and shoved his face aside. "Stupid beautiful Crowther."

Swaying on my ridiculous, high heels, I lost my balance and staggered sideways. He lunged forward, grabbed hold of my waist, and righted me.

"I'm fine—I got this," I slurred, pushing his hands off.

"Fuck, Wychthorn. Enough." He reached for my hand, snagging my glass of wine.

"Hey!" I protested, trying to grab it back, glaring as he stepped away.

He leaned over to snatch up the bottle of wine and strode away to hand everything to a servant passing the open doorway of the patio. "You've had way too much," he replied, swiveling back to me and striding closer.

"Not fair," I pouted, popping a hand on my hip. That was my choice to have too much. "I can drink if I want. And I want."

He moved toward me with a predatory gait.

I swallowed, hard. I suddenly felt like prey.

He bent, cupping my ass, and lifted me up onto the railing. "What are you doing?" I squawked, a hand instinctively gripping onto his shoulder to steady myself. The stone was cold beneath me.

His hands slowly slid up my thighs, easing my legs apart and the silky fabric rode upwards.

My eyes fluttered shut briefly at the exquisite sensation. Gods that felt good, those calloused hands on my thighs, warm and rough and strong. And I did, I really did try, to bat his hands away. "Get off—"

But he'd already stilled because he'd come across something hard and sharp, that shouldn't be there. The fine skin around his forehead creased with perplexion as he shoved my skirt further upwards to reveal—

"A dagger?"