When the Wolves Cry (Twin Flames Duet #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TALA

I wanted space, but apparently that word doesn’t fucking exist in Hell. I was doing so well too, not thinking about him, or leaping for my phone when he texted and called.

The demon is haunting me. Evidently bringing other women to the sanctuary and becoming buddies with my parents.

Asshole .

Mom’s smiling and chatting about“what a man Jax is.” I’m trying to not let my attitude slip or show on my face, but my blood is at a hateful simmer, threatening to boil over and burn anyone in my path.

While petting the new pups in her hands, my attention is drawn to Satan hauling a log like it’s nothing and setting it down without grunting in distress.

Dad does. It’s extremely worrying.

I snap back to Mom’s glee. “Why is he here?” I snip quietly.

And this is why I was trying to control my fire.

The light in her face dims, and she frowns. “He was just helping Dad, honey,” she hums pensively.

Dad doesn’t ask for help. Ever.

Guilt begins chewing on my veins, heart throbbing from being callous to her. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been trying to avoid him, and it threw me off guard seeing him here,” I mumble, unsure if the obsidian staring at me can read lips.

Her lips twist, eyes narrowing quizzically. “Are you aware that he’s trying to figure out what happened to Grandma and Grandpa? That he’s searching for the man that has Dad wound up so tight, he doesn’t even come to bed anymore?”

“I didn’t ask him to do that, Mom.”

“That’s the thing, Tala,” she snips. “You didn’t ask him. He just started doing it on his own.”

I’m taken aback. Both of my parents are incredibly relaxed and peaceful. They’ve never raised their voice or gotten snippy with me.

It was warranted though. I leaked fire first.

“Go see what that large man is holding,” she urges softly.

Internally, I roll my eyes. But to make her happy, I walk my ass away and towards Satan holding…

A little Maiko.

The whites of my eyes sting. I blink rapidly, choking the knot down, and fight the visceral urge to turn around and run off.

Jax meets me halfway, holding the pup out. Still sucking on my damn sucker. “Take him, baby.”

Cupping under his soft belly, I take him from the tattooed hands that make him appear smaller and get down my knees. Black wolves are common in Alaska. I just haven’t seen any since Maiko passed away.

It’s debilitating.

“Hi,” I whisper, cradling him to my chest, inspecting the gash on his nose. “Where did you find him?” I ask Jax.

He sits down on the grass across from me, somehow looking better than before. “He was used as bait the other night. I’ve busted a lot of dogfights… Never once have I seen a wolf being thrown into the pit.”

His heroism weaves under my ribs and bangs on my heart, chipping off a chunk of cement and nestling into a home I wasn’t willing to offer.

“Come on, hub. I need your help with something,” Mom says.

Dad rushes past us, whizzing by like a flash of lightning.

They’re very affectionate. I used to be too.

The gray wolf pups dart around the scattered hollow logs, and once I hear the gate click shut, I shuffle on my knees to get closer to the beast. “Are you okay?”

He tilts his head, brows knitting as if he’s never been asked before. Pulling the sucker from his mouth, he offers it back to me, still wearing his confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He has one little, dark freckle under his left eye, close to the outer corner, and his obsidian eyes are soaking up the sun, turning them a rich brown. They look like pools of coffee.

I love coffee.

Unable to resist, I scoot closer in between his manspreading legs, shifting one hand out from the pup and taking my sucker back. “You see horrible shit, Jax. That must weigh on you and become heavy to carry.”

Fireworks sizzle my skin as his hands move to my lower back, the tingles running right up my spine and spinning my head.

“It was. When I was a kid. But I’ve seen the inside horrors of dogfighting since I was twelve. It still fucking sucks to see, but I’ve switched my focus to just helping the dogs, rather than feeling sorry for myself. I have it a lot better than those guys,” he explains cordially.

I frown. “Saw the inside… or had to be on the inside?”

“Had to, baby.” He pauses for a moment, looking over me in admiration. “I love that you want to know more about me, and I will always answer your questions truthfully, even if it’s hard to hear. But I’ll tell you my story some other time.”

The more he tells me, the more his soul intertwines with mine. It feels like Pop Rocks in my veins, snapping and crackling, and rewiring the contending thoughts that make me distance myself from him.

My lids fall heavier, looking over his ungodly face and seeing his pupils for the first time.

If this were a cartoon, neon pink hearts would be pulsing from my eyes. Honestly, probably my vagina too, given the extra pulse in between my thighs.

“What are you naming him?” he asks amorously.

Having already decided on it, I answer with a smile, “Void.”

“You should for sure fuck him!” Nadia shouts over the music.

I glare at her, feeling bad for the mom in the booth behind us with her four kids. Before I can get on to her, the waitress sets my strawberry daiquiri down in front of me.

I soften my face, flashing her a smile. “Thank yousomuch.”

She grins, lightly biting her red lip before walking away.

I look back to Nadia, making sure she also saw that. Her jaw is almost on the table. Knowing what’s about to filter out of it has me eagerly taking the straw into my mouth.

“Okay… so… not only do you have men lining up around the block… you have women,” she marvels, her face slowly lighting up. “My little slut!”

Half of my drink is gone.

I’m about to get smacked across the face with inebriation

“Mommy, what’s a slut?” a mousy voice asks behind me.

Nadia’s cheeks puff up and I grit my teeth. We manage to stare at each other for five seconds until explosive laughs come out.

“Shove those crab legs in your purse. We need to go,” I titter, wiping tears from my eyes.

Not even questioning it, she starts shoving them into her purse. “How the fuck are we getting home? You’re a lightweight and I’ve had four margaritas,” she giggles.

Fuck.

My vision is zipping around, and my hands feel numb, otherwise I’d attempt to drive. While thinking it over, I finish off my drink and flag down the flirty waitress.

She smiles, holding a finger up from her stand.

“No shit. You’re not going to ask her for a ride, are you?” Nadia panics.

I wrinkle my nose. “No, Nads, I need to pay. We can’t dine and dash, Axle would sick Paxton on us.”

Axle isPaxton’sdad, who’s also my dad’s friend. He owns Aurora’s Bar & Grill and would not be happy with me if I bolted out. Understandably so.

I could ask Paxton for a ride.

But I would be sober by the time he got here.

The waitress sets the checkbook down and hands me a full to-go cup. “I saw you power down that drink. I figured you’d want another.”

I shouldn’t be allowed to drink. It goes right to my vagina.

My cheeks burn, and without looking at the total, I shove way too much cash into her checkbook and pass it back. “Whatever’sleft is yours,” I smile.

Her freckled cheeks grow pink as she opens her checkbook. “And this is yours,” she says, passing the receipt to me and quickly walking away.

Kendra Ballegar.

My drunk ego is bigger than the restaurant right now. I physically feel it swelling inside my body.

I fold her number up and put it in my bag, awkwardly looking back up to Nadia.

Her lips are curled, desperately trying to hold whatever is on the tip of her tongue. I don’t want to permanently scar the children behind us. They’ve heard enough tonight.

While sliding out of the booth, I snap the crescent moon magnet together on my bag and throw it over my shoulder. Nadia runs up on my side, hooking her arm with mine.

“You guys are definitely scissoring.” She pushes the door open. Aggressively . “And I’m going to watch,” she sings, way too loud for how many people are waiting on the benches of the entrance.

My face is so hot the cold air feels like it’s just hovering above my skin, teasing it. The streetlights band across the waving pavement, threatening the ability to walk straight. “I doubt I’ll actually call-”

My words get stripped from me, spotting the behemoth leaning against his bike and Maverick leaning against his truck. They’re parked next to each other in the front spots—looking at us like pissed off parents.

That’s kind of hot.

“Oh, well that’s just fucking great! Now what did we do?” Nadia pulls me, even though I don’t want to get closer to him.

I don’t trust myself with how bubbly my blood feels.

While Jax pins me down with a heated glare, Maverick pushes off his truck and walks up to Nadia’s side. Taking the bag off her shoulder, his face scrunches in disgust. “Jesus, angel. How long’s it been since you washed yourself?”

She smacks his chest, hastily ripping her bag open. “They’re crab legs, dickhead!”

Seeing the numerous sharp toes sticking out her bag makes my stomach twist, sending up the loudest laugh that’s impossible to hold back. She joins in, filling the parking lot with our drunken bullshit.

“Why didn’t you do the normal thing and get a box?” Maverick asks loudly over our howling laughter, not at all amused.

“It-It’s my fault,” I stammer. “I didn’t think she’d actually do it though.”

“In a rush to get out of there?” Jax asks, the ire in his tone carrying like the breeze.

I glance back at the restaurant, noting the perfect view he had of my encounter with the waitress through the window we were sitting by.

Wanting to get under his skin, I slowly backpedal, grinning over his brows furrowing. “That was awfully rude of me to not give her my name.” I turn around, only managing a few steps before strong arms are wrapping around my waist and lifting me into the air. “I’m not a doll you can just toss around!” I snip.

I thin my heavy eyes at Nadia’s blurry amusement, stomach dropping as he bends me over the leather seat of his bike.

My little dress was already clinging on to my ass for dear life. From what I can feel, now it’s exposing at least a quarter of my sheer-clad butt cheeks.

Before I can brace my hands to push myself up, a pop rings out and warmth smarts on my left cheek. I gasp in shock and start to yell at him, but another one rings out with warmth on my right one, negating any intelligible words.

“Bad girl,” he growls, rubbing both large hands over the sparks.

The throbbing in between my legs has me pushing into it. Liking it. And then panic begins sinking my heart, realizing how many eyes could be on us.

Reading my damn mind, he pulls my dress down and keeps rubbing. “No one can see past me, baby. If they did, I’d rip their eyes out.”

I look back at him, not at all surprised to see his dangerous smirk.

Thinking with my barely working brain, not my vagina, I dig my palms into the leather and push myself up until I’m standing.

While opening his door, Maverick side-eyes me with a grin and throws himself into his seat. “I’m taking her home, don’t worry,” he snickers.

Wait… Wait, no.

My inner thoughts don’t make it out in time before he’s closing his door and backing up.

“Hop on,” Satan demands.

Well… I can either straddle his bike while soaking through my tights or crash my car and possibly injure myself or someone else.

I huff, feeling his fingers grip the hem of my dress to hold it down, and begin calculating how the hell I’m going to get on the little seat.

I look back at him with pursed lips, swallowing thickly over how pretty he is. “How are you expecting my ass to fit on that?”

He laughs lightly. Velvety. Like whiskey you sip on for the flavor. “You’ll fit.” He grabs his black helmet off the gas tank, twisting it around to get it centered for me. “I trust myself. I don’t trust you.”

My jaw drops. “That’s so fucking rude.”

“You’re drunk, Tala.”

“Not drunk enough,” I murmur, gasping as I remember my daiquiri. “I forgot my drink,” I whine silently.

My stomach flips, tracking his arm as it reaches over my shoulder. The clip frees my hair, letting it spiral and drift down my back, and I blatantly gawk at him as he attaches my clip to his crewneck. The pleasant sight is dimmed, his helmet coming over my head and his hands working overtime to tighten it under my chin.

Usually, I’d be repulsed by sharing something like this with someone. But it somehow smells just as intoxicating as him, melting the sliver of disgust that rolled down my chest.

That’s no good. It’s definitely his sweat I’m smelling. You know what they say if someone’s pheromones smell sweet to you.

His fingers run down my neck, over my collar bone, and through the notch that tingles and makes me wither.

Catching the reaction, he tilts his head, eyes thin with hunger. “Hm,” he growlsamusedly. “Good to know.”

I shake my head. He doesn’t believe me though.

Running his fingers back through it, he wraps his hand around my throat and flips the visor up to look me in the eyes. “You must like me punishing you if you’re going to lie right after getting spanked,” he says sternly, hiking a brow, waiting for me to lie again.

I have nothing to say that wouldn’t further incriminate me. I give my best doe eyes, watching half of his bottom lip disappear in between his teeth.

Shaking his head, he lets me go and easily throws his leg over the seat, and the rumbles of his bike fire up.

I’m not proud of how wet I am right now.

But cut me some slack. I just devoured a strawberry daiquiri and he’s already too devilishly handsome to resist.

He reaches back, grabbing my hand and placing it on his buff shoulder.

The thought of him naked plagues my mind, trying to swing my leg over without flashing everyone in the parking lot. It gets worse as his hand reaches in between my legs, grabbing the back of my dress and pulling it tight against me so it doesn’t move.

I sit—on his hand—stifling a needy whimper as he slowly relaxes it, skating over my weeping core. He briefly pauses, feeling how fucking pathetic I am through two layers. Though, he doesn’t say anything about it. He pulls his hand away.

“If you feel like you can’t hold on tightly, we’ll just take your car. I don’t want to look back and see you on the pavement,” he grumbles.

Sounds like a challenge to me. A dangerous one.

I move the strap of my bag over my neck, wrap my arms around his trim waist, and brace my hands to his prominent abs. Butterflies swirl violently in my stomach, watching his rough palms run down my thighs and over my knees. He hooks under them, tediously placing my boots on the foot pegs.

Looking back with sultry eyes, he flips the visor down and flashes me a sharp smile, opening the floodgates to my already demanding desires.

I really should’ve grabbed that drink. If I was blacked out, there’s no way he’d have me get on the back of his bike. I could’ve passed out in my back seat while he drove me home.

Here I am though. Pulling tight against a demon as he backs up.

My head is swirling. I’m trying to breathe through it and focus on not falling off and becoming one with the roadkill.

Except, I’d be roadkill that surely some man would take advantage of. Can’t even hire men in the fucking morgues. I’d be better off getting thrown to the wolves. At least that would be nature running its course.

My dad has a muscle bike that he rides in the summer. So, I’m not a total stranger to being a passenger on the back of one. But it’s the first time I’m wrapped around the Devil, straddling a sexysuperbike. And I’m nervous as hell.

He checks both ways before pulling out of the parking lot, and I eagerly tilt my head each way, marveling at his perfectly structured side profile in the city lights.

It’s hypnotically well-balanced. His lips are voluminous, but don’t puff or have a juicy appearance. They’re dangerous and sharp, leveling with his straight, cutting nose.

I sigh, realizing what I’m doing.

The rest of the ride I keep my eyes to myself and firmly hold on to the abdomen carved in the pits of Hell. Every time he checks over his shoulder, I look away, unwilling to meet the Devil’s eyes that are claiming me as a victim.

Relief washes over me, rolling up to the warm lighting inviting me inside my house.

He stops his bike and kills the engine, and I immediately fumble with the chin strap until it releases, ripping his helmet off to take a big breath of… not him.

Instead of meeting the glare he’s throwing back at me, I make an ass out of myself by stomping down into the gravel and whipping my leg over the seat.

I can’t catch any more feelings for Satan.

I’d rather show the bears my entire vagina to get away from him, than feel the warmth of his body for another second.

I shove his helmet at him, then run jaggedly to my door.

The front porch steps are playing with my drunk self, blending in with the shadows and fucking with my head. I double over and start patting my way up them, basically crawling and not giving a shit if my ass is out.

I wince, knowing he’s right behind me, and thunder across the small porch and shove my front door open.

“Did you seriously leave that unlocked?” he asksvexedly.

While chucking my purse onto the console table, I catch his eyes through the mirror in my entryway and shrug at him. “I don’t think the wolves and moose will open my door, Jax.” I laugh to myself over the visual.

My laugh turns into a gulp as he lifts my purse up, opens it, and pulls the receipt out with a blazing glower.

I’m ready to starfish on my bed.

While he boils his own blood, I start taking the stairs, frowning at thetrippyzebra print. I’d throw up if there weren’t just two crab legs and a tablespoon of melted butter in my stomach.

I stop on the mid-level landing, squatting down and peeking through the railing to his scowl. “Will you make me a sandwich? I would, but I’m already halfway up and I’m worried I might break my ankles going down.”

He’s not happy, nor is he blinking. Just mechanically taking my clip off his crewneck.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I whisper awkwardly, and finish clomping up the stairs.

I make it halfway down the hall before realizing I left my phone down there with him.

My steps halt, thinking about the nudes I have in there, and I frantically whip around and dart back to the stairs. The panic clears my vision, and I thunder all the way down them without snapping my spine.

He’s not where I left him.

With a racing heart, I move the sheer curtains to the side, peering out at his bike still sitting there. “What the hell?” I murmur.

I quickly grab my phone from my bag and lazily scroll through my notifications, stumbling through the cased opening of the living room.

Nadia: Maverick threw the crab legs out the window. He tried launching my purse and I broke a nail fighting with him over it.

My chest shakes with a silent laugh, and I glance up, realizing I’ve somehow pondered into the kitchen. The sight of Satan being domestic and making a sandwich makes my phone fall from my hand, clattering harshly onto the island.

Casually handing the sandwich over to me, he says, “It doesn’t matter how irate I feel, you ask me to do something, I’m going to do it.”

My eyes soften, gazing at him speechlessly.

He tilts my chin up, giving me a quick wink that stirs something inside me, and starts walking away.

The scale weighing the choice to run after him is spilling over.

I don’t, though. I can’t.

Even though it’s painful.