A warmth stirs in my belly. It makes me squirmy.

Darragh disappears into the trees with a wave, and Preston turns his attention to me, grabbing my wrists in a firm grip, skewering me with his gaze.

“Listen. You don’t ever call for Darragh Ryan, understand?” His voice carries an undertone of alpha command.

“I thought you trained with him?”

“I do. In human form.” Preston draws me closer, his grip firm but not painful. He’s making a point, though, by making me feel small, and I’m reminded that he can do this—be calm and even one minute, cold and rigid the next. A shiver crawls down my back.

“Darragh’s...