“After last night, the pack will be out searching for you. It isn’t
safe,” he said.
His hand slowly moved from her wrist to her forearm in a gentle caress,
and the atmosphere changed drastically.
His touch felt far too intimate, and her skin seemed overly sensitive
where he touched.
“I’ve managed on my own a long time now, William,” she said, her
voice a little thick.
She used his first name deliberately—like a school teacher might—to
show she had the authority to do so, and was at least his equal.
His eyes took on a golden glint and a heat that made her pulse rate
ratchet up another notch. With his free hand, he reached out and ran a
single finger down her cheek in a featherlight touch.
“You’re so fragile and you don’t even know it,” he said silkily,
his voice a low, throaty murmur.
She swallowed hard and tried not to lean into his touch like a cat. His
words of the night before floated through her mind, and she felt the
color rise in her cheeks.
He wanted her.
He’d told her so outright.
That made his touch now very dangerous, indeed. Her reaction to the
contact seemed way out of proportion. It was nothing that should have
caused sudden heat to build in her midsection and beyond. She needed to
get control of herself before things got out of hand. With a small,
forced laugh to dispel the moment, she shrugged nonchalantly.
“I’m not nearly as fragile as you seem to think,” she said.
To which he chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound. Then his gaze pointedly
raked over her from head to toe appraisingly.
She refused to look away from his eyes. Instead, she raised a single
brow mutinously, daring him to mention that her head barely reached his
chest, or the gun in her waistband hung halfway down her thigh.
Instead of saying anything, he took a step toward her, crowding her away
from the door and against the wall with his large frame, forcing her to
Emily retreated a single involuntary step, but no more. She stood firm,
determined to face him down. He might deliberately intimidate
her—though she wasn’t really sure it was deliberate—but he
wouldn’t hurt her.
She didn’t know what made her so certain of that.
After all, she’d seen him decapitate a man without a word only a few
hours before. But somehow, she just knew she was safe with him. So, she
stubbornly held her ground.
He had to stop eventually or walk over the top of her.
He didn’t stop advancing until his legs were against hers, and she
became very aware of the sheer size of the man. With one hand, he cupped
her chin and tipped her head up, then bent to brush her lips gently with
his own. The pressure from his lips was barely there for an instant
before he pulled away.
“I understand you want to leave the house. Give me a few minutes to
get dressed and we can go wherever you want,” he whispered thickly,
his mouth a mere inch from her own.
Emily watched him walk toward the stairs without saying a word,
wondering that her knees still held her up. She was dumbfounded and
rocked to the core of her being. As soon as she heard the door to his
bedroom click shut, she turned and ran from the house for all she was
Excerpted from "Shadow Pact" by Tally Adams. Copyright © 2018 by Tally Adams. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.