Matthew wouldn't be greeting them here. He would be in his office by the time either of them got to the garage door, which didn't sound like a priority right now. This was something that needed to settle from the high points of their clan rage, to a place where it was at least focused on something. No steps would be taken before then.

He heard Blaine's curse and had no doubt he'd hear it again before the night was over. He didn't dare make a sound in reply. From an adjacent room, the sounds of feminine voices sprung up, fresh with heat and heartbeats and the sweet scent that they carried with them.

Joslin's glare hadn't moved from Blaine as he feed, still bucking and writhing forward for more. Even in his rage, the Russian heard the woman and what was once a struggle into Blaine was a struggle away from. There were better necks to tear open. The man was nearly feral.