Chapter 73: Not a Werewolf

"Daemus, stop!" a voice commanded sharply.

It definitely wasn’t Blair’s.

Clarice marched into the bedroom, her silver eyes flashing with fury. She gripped a white handtowel in her fist, brandishing it like a weapon as she approached the bed.

"She wakes up, and the very first thing you want to do is jump her like a dog?" Clarice scolded loudly, slapping the towel against her son’s broad shoulder. "What if her wounds reopen? Get off, get off!"

Daemus groaned, his jaw tightening in miserable frustration as he rolled off the mattress.

Blair wanted the duvet to swallow her whole. She scrambled to pull the thick blankets up to her chin, her face burning so hot she felt like a living furnace. Between the striking silver eyes and the dark blue hair, she recognized the woman instantly. This had to be his mother.

As Daemus stood up beside the bed, Blair’s eyes inadvertently drifted downward. Her breath hitched. Straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants was a very rigid erection.

Blair’s face reddened even more, turning a brilliant shade of crimson. Her mind raced in a frantic, panicked loop. What would have happened if his mother didn’t come in? How far would we actually have went?

To Blair’s immediate sadness, Daemus didn’t even look back at her. He just ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair, his face set in a deep, irritated scowl, and stormed out of the room without saying a single word.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Blair swallowed hard, sinking a little deeper into the pillows. She felt very uncomfortable being left alone with his mother. Especially since she had just walked in on them. Sure, they were only kissing, and they aren’t kids, but still...who wants to be caught making out in front of their mom?

Clarice cleared her throat. The scolding anger vanished from her face when Daemus left, replaced by a warm, welcoming smile.

"Blair, dear," Clarice asked softly, stepping closer to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"O-Okay, thank you," Blair stuttered out, gripping the edge of the duvet. She looked up at the older beastwoman. Daemus’s mother was so beautiful, but there was something a bit scary hovering just beneath the surface of her warm smile. It made the hair on Blair’s arms stand up.

"Great, I’m happy to hear that," Clarice responded brightly. "We prayed every day for your speedy recovery."

Who is ’we’? Blair asked in her thoughts, her heart giving a nervous flutter. Was the entire pack already aware of the genius genes nonsense? I should say something, she told herself, trying to gather the courage to speak up.

"Oh, I didn’t introduce myself," the woman chimed in before Blair could open her mouth. "My name is Clarice. Daemus’s mother."

Blair offered a shy nod. "Nice to meet you."

"I must apologize for Daemus’s behavior," Clarice sighed, gently pulling the duvet back just enough to inspect Blair’s bandages. "The full moon is in two nights. He might be in rut."

Somehow, it was physically possible for Blair’s face to redden even more.

In rut? she wondered wildly, her eyes widening. Like an actual dog? Blair realized just how ignorant she was about wolf beastmen. Unfortunately, they clearly didn’t share many similarities with the werewolves she had read about in fantasy fiction.

Clarice carefully checked the white gauze around Blair’s ribs, ensuring none of the wounds had reopened from the...physical exertion. As her hands worked, she kept her silver eyes focused on the bandages.

"In two nights, Daemus will want to breed you," Clarice told her conversationally, as if she were discussing the weather. "I’ll need you to stay away from him until after. Walk in the opposite direction. Understand?"

Blair furrowed her brows. She couldn’t understand why she had to do all that. "Daemus would listen if I said no," she quietly argued.

"Not during the full moon," Clarice corrected her softly, smoothing the blankets back down. "He will get insatiable, violent, and everything else opposite of who he actually is and who you know him to be. It would take much more than a simple ’no’ to keep him from taking you."

Clarice gently patted the top of Blair’s head.

"Do not be sad, dear," Clarice soothed her. "This is for both of your sakes. A human cannot survive the lust of a wolf under the full moon. Daemus would never forgive himself if he accidentally harmed you."

Blair swallowed the lump of fear in her throat and only nodded, silently agreeing to steer clear of the Wolf Prince.

"By the way," Clarice smoothly added, stepping back from the bed with a bright smile. "We should get you dressed."

Blair furrowed her brows in confusion. "Dressed for what?"

"Dinner," Clarice responded, her smile never wavering.

Meanwhile, in another room, Daemus was standing under the freezing spray of the shower.

The ice-cold water pounded against his broad shoulders and ran down his chest, but it was doing nothing to calm him down. His internal temperature was burning way too hot. His claws involuntarily extended and retracted against the wet tile wall as he swore a continuous, colorful string of curses under his breath.

He couldn’t get the memory out of his head.

Unable to take the agonizing tension for another second, Daemus grabbed a bottle of lotion from the shower caddy. He pumped a generous amount into his palm, wrapped his hand around his dick, and began to jerk off.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his strokes fast and desperate as he leaned his forehead against the cold, wet tiles. His mind instantly supplied the image of Blair’s flushed, cherry-red face staring up at him from the pillows. He gripped himself tighter, his breathing turning ragged as he remembered the incredible softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.

The friction built rapidly as the phantom sound of her quiet, breathy moans echoed loudly in his ears, driving him over the edge as he chased the release that would only satisfy him for a second.