Page 63 of Burn of Obsidian

Thea yawned, slipping her naked body beneath the sheets, and only when she was fast asleep did he call down to reception to get everything ready for when she woke, and then allow himself to surrender to exhaustion.

Chapter 24

Thea

Groaning, Thea tightened her hold on the soft pillow, not ready to wake up. Her head pounded, a wave of queasiness rolling through her stomach before finally settling.

How much did I drink? she thought, groaning. Rolling, she buried her face into the warm fluff, leather and spice surrounding her in a pleasant scent.

The pillow rumbled, vibrating against her face. Blinking her eyes awake, it took her a second for her brain to catch up with what she was seeing.

“What the – !” Jumping back, she rolled off the sheets and onto the carpet with a thump. The bed creaked, Jax in his beastly form cocking his head at her, splayed naked on the floor.

The beast stretched his claws, almost kneading the edge of the mattress as he watched her with those silver eyes. She’d forgotten just how big he was, swallowing the oversized bed easily as he lay spread. He stared, dropping his head to rest on his paws.

“Jax, what the fuck?” Her brain hurt, not to mention the pain radiating from her shoulder from when she’d flung herself from the bed. With a frown, she touched the white bandage on her skin, pulling up the edge to see beneath. Her memory was foggy, the dizziness lingering as she tried to remember what had happened.

Grey’s death.

Hellhound.

Skull face.

Witch.

Carried to a strange hotel room by Jax, and then waking up to him all fluffy.

Fucking great.

Reaching up, she grabbed a spare pillow to cover her modesty. The room itself was fancy, the carpet beneath her butt so soft she could happily curl into a ball and fall back to sleep. That was if she wasn’t being stared down by a wolf/lion creature that watched her as if she was a yummy gazelle.

Scooting back slightly on her bum, Jax tensed as if ready to pounce.

“Stop,” she said, holding up her hand. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, lips so dry she’d drink about anything offered right then.

She heard a knock, loud and persistent.

“Get off,” she growled at Jax, tugging the sheets from beneath him so she could wrap it around her. Shuffling across the room to the door, she looked out the little eyehole with a frown. “Hello?”

A woman dressed all in black stood there with a tray, slipping into the room as soon as the door was opened. She silently placed the vase of sunflowers, the cloche and the mug on the vanity before leaving without a single word.

“Why sunflowers?” she asked Jax, who obviously couldn’t answer her. They were so bright and happy, and she couldn’t help but smile. Reaching for the mug, that smile turned into a full blown happy dance. It was hot chocolate, and she drank the entire thing before placing it back onto the marble coaster. Which was unnecessarily bougie, in her opinion.

The cloche was next, revealing a plate of fresh fruit and yogurt. Picking up a strawberry, she shoved it in her mouth before studying the room. All the furniture was dark woods edged with gold, little accents that screamed “look at me, I’m rich,” but in a tasteful way. The wallpaper was cream, as was the carpet.

She found her dress, a pair of jeans covered in blood and a stretched T-shirt neatly folded on the Chesterfield armchair, along with her bag.

She knew for a fact she’d left her dress screwed up on the floor, that memory crystal clear. She also remembered the way Jax had watched her in the mirror, his eyes burning as they dragged down her body. Pulling the sheet tighter to her breasts, she turned to the man in question. Well, wolf-thing.

“Stay,” she demanded in her most authoritative tone.

Of course, he ignored her, jumping from the bed to pad behind her toward the bathroom. With a scowl she threw the sheets down so she could take a better look at her shoulder in the mirror above the sink.

“Hey, fluffy-butt, you need to move.” She glared at Jax, who’d sat himself as close as possible. With him sitting on his back legs, the top of his head almost reached her shoulder, which made him fucking huge. Up close she could really make out the silver-grey lines decorating his dark fur. “Fine,” she muttered, returning to the mirror.

Her hand reached up to touch the edge, and her eyes were drawn to the golden cuff around her wrist. She couldn’t even feel them against her skin, and had completely forgotten Jax had locked them on her.

“Such an arsehole,” she hissed, trying to find the latch to unlock them. Except there wasn’t one. Her fingers rubbed against the metal, clearly coated with something because it wasn’t irritating her skin. A delicate design was engraved around the entire band, florals and gentle lines that were beautiful. Not that she would ever admit that to him, not when he’d stamped the fucking design with his stylised ‘J’, the same as his knife. “Is that a…”