Kaya
"Moonlight?"
I snap out of my infernal thoughts at the sound of Magnus's low, gravelly voice. My vision flashes white as all focus narrows to his bare torso—taut muscles gleaming with sweat, every inch of him sculpted like a sin I want to commit. Jealousy burns in my gut. Of what? The axe? The wind? The droplets of sweat that get to touch him?
Why does he have to look so devastatingly sexy doing something as simple as chopping wood? How am I supposed to pretend like nothing happened between us when he insists on looking like that?
Goddess, imagine running your tongue over those abs, Rana purrs. Heat flares across my cheeks... and lower. That infuriating, lust-struck wolf is going to be the death of me.
"What are you doing out here?" Magnus asks again, dropping the axe with a heavy thud and stalking toward me. Each step is fluid, dangerous. The way his hips move should be illegal—it's enough to scramble my thoughts.
"You should be resting. It'll help your healing."
