Beads of sweat were endlessly tickling down the slope of Mircea's neck. She simply wanted to get up and start traipsing through the crowd till she reached the lake and then she wanted to jump in the cool water. Oh how much she longed to do that at the moment.
Except, instead of following her heart she followed the roar of the crowd and watched her mate watch her. The matches were yet to begin, Frey was yet to transform into his wolf form. And for some bizarre reason Mircea was anticipating seeing his… wolf form. She had told herself that she wasn't quenching her thirst but rather exhilarating how much the asshole looked like an actual beast.
A mere minutes ago she stepped out of Kirill's embrace and sat down on the settees made for the original werewolf family. In which she had somehow come to fit in, she couldn't quite remember how any of this had happened.
