Killian Jones wasn't a stranger to danger. As the second in command to his brother Liam's pack, he knew all about the stereotypes of the bad wolf. He'd sported them all: black leather jacket, black denims with silver chains and a killer bike to complete the ensemble.
You named it, Killian Jones had lived it. Killian had survived it all - a pack war with his sworn enemy, the murder of his mate and the loss of his left hand. All he gained from that brutal battle was an arm full of scars and though he had covered them with countless tattoos, he could still feel them. His mate gone, there was nothing for him to do than waste the time away between pack duties, drinking rum with his mates at any of the bars their pack owned and the occasional one night stand with a tail that had a flair for danger.
Killian Jones had seen it all.
Or at least he thought he had until he walked into one of their bars that night, the text he received from the bartender making him think that his employees had started drinking on the job.
But no, the bartender had been right, because there she was in all her blonde sexy glory, sitting on a stool by the counter and nursing a whisky.
What in the blazes was she doing here? Killian had enough battles with rival packs to last him a lifetime and he wasn't about to give any of them an excuse to come beat him or his brother to a bloody pulp. Which was what was going to happen if she didn't leave this bar immediately. Killian could usually maintain discipline within his wolves, but sitting there was the loveliest, most beautiful and sexiest piece of tail that had frequented this seedy joint in a long long time, if not ever.
An unattached, unmatted, piece of tail that was also the adopted sister of a rival Alpha.
This was not going to end well and based on the interesting looks he could see from some of his wolves and the heating pheromones he could smell in most of them, he needed to act and act fast.
He needed to get her the hell out of there.
Killian squared his shoulders and swaggered into the place as he owned it - which he did - clearly making a beeline to where the current bane of his existence was sitting, oblivious to the turmoil she was about to generate.
Reaching the stool, he all but rubbed against her as he leaned in, clearly sending a signal to the rest of the patrons. The beta had marked his territory and at least that would buy them a little more time. But not much if he didn't act fast.
Clenching his jaw and all but biting the words out, he lowered his voice and he finally met those fiercely green eyes.
"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing here, Swan?"