A Rejected Wolf and a Court of Ash (Eden and Azriel) novel Chapter 121

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Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Elvira

The glass is still humming like it’s holding its breath when Axel moves his larger–than–life body.

One second I’m standing, the next my spine is flat on the floor. I can’t even get up, not when there now is two hundred pounds of very warm, very solid, shirtless werewolf pinning me down. My brain is about three steps behind my body, but my skin? Oh, my skin is already screaming in blush.

“Axel-”

“Stay down.” His voice is all sharp edges.

I lift my eyes, swallowing when I don’t see his face, but immediately focus on the tendons in his muscular neck.

Hot.

Fuck, get a grip!

“I was standing-”

“Not anymore,” he mutters, already scanning the windows like he is expecting a demon to crawl through them.

I want to shoot something back, but I’m a… little bit distracted.

His bare chest hovers inches from mine, every muscle flexing like they are auditioning for their own spotlight. Heat radiates off him, seeping through my clothes until it’s hard to tell where he ends and I begin. His arm is braced around me like he could take an axe to the spine and still shield me completely.

I like that. I like that way too much!

Heat is already gathering between my legs while goosebumps are breaking out over my skin. The mate bond might not be there, but I still want him so freaking bad. Which isn’t doing me any favors since this isn’t the time to get excited.

It is a little too late for that now, though. My heart isn’t just racing, it’s running marathons. And my brain? Oh, it’s helpfully cataloguing every inch of him like I’m writing a manual titled How to Be Distracted During an Attack.

“What was that?” Liora hisses.

I’m brought back to reality when something clangs outside, causing Axel to lower himself another fraction. Now I’m fully pinned. Not metaphorically. Physically. My only options are to stay put or do something monumentally stupid, like lick the drop of sweat sliding down his collarbone. His scent is all over me and his… No! I can’t look down. I have to stay calm and focus on the danger!

“What do you think it was?” I whisper, my voice way too breathless.

“Not sure.” Axel’s gaze doesn’t flick to me, but the muscles in his jaw shift. “Could be a projectile.”

“A projectile?” My voice jumps. “Like a magical rock? A cursed harpoon? A cake from Selene?”

His lips twitch as if the last bit amused him, but he doesn’t answer. The hum fades from the glass. A shadow passes the window. I hold my breath. He holds his. Then, as quickly as it started, it’s gone.

The silence is so complete that I can hear my own pulse in my ears.

1/3

Eden’s voice drifts from somewhere near the door. “It’s clear. False alarm. A ripple from the outer wards.”

I blink up at Axel. “Hear that? We are fine.”

He still doesn’t move.

“Axel.”

Nothing. Just the steady, infuriating calm of someone who has apparently decided the safest place for me is to be under him forever.

“You don’t walk out of cover until I say you do,” he says finally, like it’s the most obvious rule in the world.

“Unless you plan on proposing, I think you can get off me now.”

That gets me a look. One slow brow raise, the faintest curl at the corner of his mouth. Then he shifts back, and I’m free to breathe air that doesn’t smell like him and his sinfully distracting skin.

He stands, offers me a hand, and hauls me up in one easy pull that makes me feel like I weigh less than my own shoes. My palm tingles even after he lets go.

“Until the ball, I’m posted outside your room,” he says, like it’s already law.

“That’s not necessary—”

“Not up for debate.” He’s already scanning the window again, shoulders tense like the sky might try to assassinate me in the next ten minutes.

Liora leans in from the hallway, eyes flicking between us. “You know, most people guard doors, not entire women.”

Axel ignores her. “After dusk, you don’t go anywhere without telling me. If you need something, you knock. If you hear something, you knock. If you breathe too weird, you knock.”

I fold my arms. “What if I snore?”

He finally looks at me, dead serious. “Then I will know you’re alive.”

I snort. “Do you hear yourself? That’s ridiculous.”

He doesn’t blink. “If the sky falls, I’m catching it before it touches you.”

It’s stupid, and intense, and maybe the tiniest bit sweet. My heart does that annoying thing where it tries to sprint without permission.

“Fine,” I say, because arguing with him right now feels like trying to argue with a mountain. “But if you’re sleeping outside my door, I’m at least bringing you blankets.”

“I don’t exactly get cold.“,

“You’re still getting them!”

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