Chapter 0077
Walter smirked, stepping around me with a confidence that was almost infuriating.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” he said.
He strolled over to the archery set, slung the quiver over his back, and picked up the bow from the ground. Standing at a reasonable distance, he notched an arrow, pulled back the string, and released it.
Bullseye.
I scoffed. “That was close enough for a toddler to hit.”
Walter simply smirked and took a step back. Then another. And another. Each time, he repeated the process—except instead of simply hitting the target, his arrow split the previous one down the middle.
I gasped, my skepticism vanishing.
He kept stepping back, farther and farther, until he was halfway across the field. By now, his silhouette was almost a blur in the distance. He notched another arrow, drew back the bow, and let it fly.
CRACK!
The arrow sliced through the previous one, shattering it completely.
Broken arrow shafts littered the ground, piling up as he continued his relentless assault. When he finally reached the last shot, he was standing at the very edge of the field, barely visible. Even Irene squinted, struggling to make out his form.
Then, with one final pull, he released his arrow.
It soared through the air like a streak of lightning, colliding with the target in a thunderous impact. Not only did the embedded arrow explode into splinters, but the entire target collapsed to the ground, making all of us jump.
My jaw nearly hit the dirt.
I turned to see Walter jogging back toward us, his golden curls bouncing in the wind. At some point, he’d taken off his shirt, revealing a toned, muscled chest that glistened with the faintest sheen of sweat.
Matt practically vibrated with excitement.
“That was awesome!” he exclaimed. “How did you do that?”
Walter chuckled, ruffling Matt’s hair. “Years of practice. I can teach you sometime.”
“Yes, please!!” Matt practically begged.
I crossed my arms, leveling Walter with a look.
“That was impressive,” I admitted. “But you owe us a new set of arrows.”
Grinning, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“Get me a new bow and arrow set. The best you can find,” he ordered smoothly. “Send them to my uncle’s villa.”
He hung up without another word.
I raised an eyebrow. “You really do have connections.”
Walter’s gaze flickered to mine, something unreadable in his expression. “I never claim to be anyone I’m not.”
His voice had dipped lower, almost suggestive.
“Want to show me some of your other moves, then?” I asked, arching a brow.
Was I… flirting with him?
It didn’t feel the same as when I was with Ethan. And certainly nothing like how I felt with Gavin. With Walter, it almost felt like playing pretend. He was charming, easy to talk to, and maybe even fun to flirt with—but my heart didn’t race the same way. My wolf didn’t purr in satisfaction.
Not like it did with him.
Walter smirked. “I have some defense moves I could show you.”
I grinned. “Please.”
Before I could react, he grabbed my arm, spun me around, and suddenly—my back was pressed against his chest.
It happened so fast I barely registered it. One moment, I was standing; the next, I was pinned to the ground, his body pressing into mine. My face was buried in the dirt, his legs wrapped through mine, effectively locking me in place.
I heard Irene gasp loudly. A quick glance showed her clutching Ethan’s wrist, eyes wide as they watched the scene unfold.
I smirked, feigning nonchalance. “I guess you do have some moves.”
In a swift motion, I kicked out from under him, making him lose his balance. Using the momentum, I twisted my body, flipping us over so that I was on top now—straddling him and pinning him down.
“But I have some moves too,” I countered smugly.
Walter grinned, gripping my hips as if he were about to lift me off him.
And then—
A deep, guttural growl erupted from the distance.
The sound sent a violent shiver down my spine, my wolf immediately stirring to attention.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
I scrambled off Walter so fast that I nearly fell backward. Whipping around, my heart stopped at the sight of Gavin storming toward us.
His face was dark with fury, his body trembling with barely contained rage. His eyes—usually that stunning, golden-hazel hue—were pitch black.
“Get your hands off her!”
