Free The Wolf Fount by Gayla Drummond

hands on her hips, looking into her eyes.
    “Sugar pie, I’ve been around for a long, long time. Nothing never means nothing.”
    “How about nothing I feel like sharing?” she snapped, eyes narrowing.
    “Fair enough. You change your mind, let me know.”
    Jake proved a competent dance partner, though he preserved a few inches of space between their bodies at all times. His eyes didn’t spark gold at any point either. As they moved around the dancefloor, his low-voiced comments about various people swung between informative and funny.
    After a few songs, she excused herself to the ladies’, and agreed to meet him back at the bar for a cold one. While in the stall, Morgan heard familiar voices. “I wouldn’t dump Cal for Jake. Maybe she sucks in bed, because Cal doesn’t seem to care what she’s doing.”
    Hello, Patty . Morgan wasn’t aware of the feral grin that stretched her lips for a few seconds as the blonde’s friends agreed with her assessment of the situation. She finished peeing, flushed, and after yanking her pants back in place, left the stall. Crossing the space, Morgan parked herself at the sink right next to the one Patty was holding court at.
    The blonde flushed pink as Morgan bared her teeth in a fake smile while washing her hands. After drying them, she turned and moved to stand in front of the other woman. “This is where your nosiness ends, or we’re going to have a problem. I moved in this morning.”
    “Bullshit you moved in.”
    “Why don’t you walk right out there and ask him?”
    “Maybe I will.” Patty stared back.
    “Go ahead.” With a shrug, Morgan left the restroom and began threading her way back to the west bar. Her hurt had turned to anger, and with each step, that anger flared hotter. A small, quiet part of her wondered what the problem was. Calhoun hadn’t promised anything but a job and a place to always belong.
    Nothing about a relationship, which was fine, since she wasn’t good at the romantic kind. I don’t get attached. Don’t fall in love. That shit is for the weak .
    Spotting Jake, she bee-lined to him and growled into his ear. “Wanna fuck?”
    “Well now,” he turned to look at her. “I appreciate the invitation, but...”
    “Fuck you then. I’ll...” She spun away, but he caught hold of her arm and called for Calhoun as she turned back to him with a snarl.
    “Boss!”
    “What, Jake?”
    “The lady’s not feeling well.” Jake kept hold of her as Morgan tried to yank free.
    She sneered, meeting Calhoun’s eyes as he halted on the other side of the bar. “I’m fine. Let go, or so help me...”
    “No, you’re not. You’re hitting the last stage, Morgan.” Calhoun leaned over the bar top and pressed the back of his fingers to her cheek. His fingers felt cold. “Burning up. Let me take you upstairs.”
    “I don’t want to go upstairs.” She pulled against Jake’s hold again, this time forcing him to stand or be dragged off his bar stool. He held on and Calhoun hopped over the bar behind her.
    Before Morgan could protest, she was over Calhoun’s shoulder, and heading for the stairs. “Put me down.”
    He spoke in a soothing tone. “I’m going to help you. You need quiet right now, not loud music and a crowd. I’ll stay with you until it’s finished.”
    “I want,” she hesitated, uncertain what she’d been about to say as he strode upstairs. Dizziness hit. “I’m going to be sick.”
    “That will go away in a few seconds.” He opened the door of his suite. “Let’s take a nice, cool bath.”

Chapter Eight
    M organ mumbled, her face slack and eyes unfocused. Cal smoothed her hair back and put a glass of water to her lips. “Take a sip, darlin’.”
    From the door, Sebastian asked, “Why is it taking so long for her?”
    He put the glass back on the nightstand and looked at his nephew. Twenty-four hours was the normal length of time for the final stage of Awakening. They were at hour thirty-two and counting. “I don’t