Bayou Wolf by Heather Long Page B

said, all play leaving her. “You know I only want your happiness.”
    It was part of what made her such a good friend as well as trusted Traiteur for the pack. “I do. Go on, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” It would do Mason some good to wait on her arrival, as well. Linc turned away from his chopping, chest and arms slick with sweat—every muscle stood out in stark relief. Her belly tightened at the sight of all that gorgeous male…
    Enough. She forced her gaze away and headed for the bathroom. Ice cold shower it is. In fifteen minutes, she would greet Mason, Alpha to Alpha and find out what the hell he really had planned.

    F ifteen minutes to the moment later, ardor in check thanks to the icy shower, she emerged from the bathroom and paired the silk blouse Amy picked out with jeans. Instead of putting her shoes on, she left her feet bare. The gold toe rings—one for each index toe—gleamed against her skin. Her toenails were painted a soft shell color, startling against her dark skin, and designed to draw attention to her feet. Though they were long, matching her height, they were also delicate. The jewelry enhanced her femininity and gave her a softer appearance.
    She’d pinned her curls up, twisting them into a scoop on the top of her head. The flare bared the column of her throat, another vulnerability. Satisfied with her appearance, she opened the door a fraction and listened to the conversation taking place below. Amy bubbled over with good cheer and asked Mason a dozen questions. She wanted to know about his life after he left Delta Crescent—though she added several anecdotes about his time among their pack. The deep baritone of his answers filled in the silences and their mutual laughter soon swept up to include Trish.
    They were on the porch. Apparently Mason took the status of the guesthouse as hers seriously. Appreciating the respect, she quit eavesdropping and descended the stairs. The conversation muted almost immediately. Amy rose from her place on the porch swing, flanked by both Hounds. Mason leaned against the porch brace on the top step. Two steps behind him, arms folded, Linc stood. Despite Amy’s friendly chatter, the tension level escalated.
    Pressing the storm door open, Serafina locked gazes with Mason. Familiarity did nothing to diminish the rise in power around them as the Alpha’s confidence swept across the porch to collide against her own authority. Anxiety ramped through the wolves around them, but neither she nor Mason looked away. His dark eyes went gold and her wolf rose to meet him.
    Their wolves knew each other, though neither gave a damn. The last time she’d seen Mason had been the day of her ascension, when she took her pack and made them her own. He’d come to say goodbye late that evening, offering her only congratulations and well wishes in lieu of any explanation. She’d needed none. However, she understood then as she did now—he was exactly where he’d been meant to be.
    “Hello, Mason.” She broke the silence first then extended her hand. The corner of his mouth curled, softening his fierce expression as he clasped her hand in his.
    “Hello, Serafina. Thank you for coming.”
    “You couldn’t do it without me.” She grinned as he flexed his grip, meeting her strength, the pressure in their handshake a demonstration to satisfy their wolves as to how well-matched they were in brawn.
    “No,” he said with a faint smile. “I probably could, but it would be ten times harder and nowhere near as much fun.”
    “Still charming.” She laughed, and the tension around them popped, easing the stress their wolves experienced. “Shall we talk?”
    He loosened his grip first, then she gestured to the house. Willow Bend worked so diligently to keep other wolf scents out, but it wasn’t her personal home and she had no objections to Mason visiting.
    “Absolutely. One matter before we begin.”
    Pausing, she raised her eyebrows. A flicker of movement behind him