CHAPTER 25

"Seriously, Jasson, you can't honestly have mated her. She's not even your type. I mean she's thin. And mouthy. And small. Even her boobs are on the small side."

"I have nice feet."

"You're not his type!"

"You mean because I can read and write?"

Selma flushed and stamped her foot. "Jasson? Jasson?"

Finally he spared the whining woman a gLeon. He'd only been half-listening to the conversation as he'd been too busy nuzzling Angelina's neck, breathing in her exotic scent. As he licked over his claiming mark, a tremor ran through her.

Angelina gave him a sideways gLeon. "Jasson, you really shouldn't do that unless you want me to jump you while we have an audience." The ass licked it again.

"Hello!" barked Selma, waving. She was a picture of jealousy.

"Oh sorry, did you say something?" asked Angelina innocently.

The ringing of Jasson's cell phone cut off whatever Selma had been about to say. Seeing that the caller was Ryan, he brought both him and Angelina to their feet. "I'll be back in a minute." With one last lick to his mark, he released her, relishing the flush on her cheeks, and left the room to take the call in private.

As if Selma wasn't staring at her with utter hatred in her eyes and obviously planning her murder, Angelina leaned against the counter as she tackled her last slice of bacon.

"I feel sorry for Jasson being stuck with you, even if it's only for a few months. Seriously, Daniel, what was he thinking mating a Wilgoz?"

"You wouldn't have liked her no matter who she was and we all know why."

"Oh come on, Daniel, if what I've heard is right then she's latent for God's sake." God, the woman sounded like Brodie.

Angelina sighed. "You know, I really wish people would stop talking about my latency like it's the second coming of Christ. I'm not the only latent shifter."

Selma gave her a pitying look. "You have to admit that a latent couldn't manage being an Guardian Female."

"I suppose you would do a much better job."

"Yes, I would. Even if this mating was real, it wouldn't have lasted long. Once Jasson and his wolf began to realize just how weak their mate is, their interest in you would have swiftly dwindled. They'd have gone looking for a female wolf who can complement them and their strength. And when that happened, I'd have been waiting."

Jasson was just ending the call when the sound of a loud crash hit his ears and had him cursing in surprise. He raced into the kitchen and stared, confounded, at the vision before him. Selma was very ungracefully splayed out on the floor after obviously having smacked her head against the wall, if the trail of blood was anything to go by. Everyone at the table had risen from their seat and was staring down at her, wide-eyed. And Angelina…well she was leaning against the counter calmly biting into a slice of bacon as if there wasn't a woman moaning and bleeding all over the floor.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded. Angelina's expression was perfectly serene when she peered up at him.

"She fell."

The sound of muffled laughter had his attention returning to the table to find Daniel, Grace, Lydia, Cam and Rhett chuckling so hard they were shaking. Although the others were silent, none of them – not even Hope – had been able to hold back an amused grin.

Angelina sighed. "I think I'll go on that run now. Grace, that breakfast was excellent." She then made her way around a moaning Selma, pointedly ignoring her. "Close your mouth, Jasson, or you'll catch flies."

Still totally bemused and also a little horny as a result of her Guardian vibes pulsating around her, Jasson stared after her as she pranced out of the room humming a tune he didn't recognise.

"Angelina's one mean bitch," said Daniel approvingly.

"Jasson, look what she did to me!" whined Selma.

He didn't want to. "Daniel, Thom, you coming?" Both rose from the table and thanked Grace before following him out of the room. "What was all that about anyway?"

"Just Selma being her usual irritating self," replied Daniel. "You should've seen the way Angelina picked her up and slung her at the wall. It was awesome."

Thom nodded his agreement, albeit reluctantly. "That female's freakishly strong for her size."

Oh Jasson already knew that from their battles last night. His lips curved into a smile as he imagined battling with her all over again tonight.

Angelina was in a better mood after her short run. The cold breeze on her face combined with the familiar scents of the forest had left her feeling refreshed and settled her wolf. Only then had she began to wander through the maze of tunnels to familiarise herself with what would be her home for the next few months. Three hours later Angelina was in the doorway of the living area, gaping.

A wander around had confirmed that not one inch of the place was anything but spectacular. There were four floors and each one of them featured dozens of en-suite bedrooms, a small kitchenette, and a laundry room. On the fourth floor where Jasson, Daniel and the enforcers slept was – in addition to a laundry room – a pool room, a game room, an office, the huge amazing kitchen and a large living area. The blend of modern and antique furnishings was a feature throughout the entire place, never once clashing.

She was nothing short of awed and had found something to gasp at in each and every room. But this room…whoa. The audio-visual system was state of the art, the decorative swirly carvings on the main wall were amazing, the many armchairs all looked comfy enough to sleep on, but it was the item in the center of the living area that had her attention. Is it a bed? Is it a sofa? The freaking thing looked more like a giant cushion.

There had been a sectional sofa in her pack house too, but it wasn't anything like this. The black leather was clearly top quality and it could comfortably seat at least eighteen people. One end was a gorgeous chaise lounge while the other end had a recliner. It was so big and bulky that not only did her ass sink into it, but her feet didn't even touch the floor. It totally dwarfed her. Suddenly she felt like one of the Borrowers.

Oh she could get used to this luxury. She wasn't a materialistic person, never had been, and she totally agreed that money didn't bring you happiness. Still, she'd rather be depressed wearing Prada than dirty rags.

"Comfy?"