“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” He shrugged walking back into the house and grabbing the steaks. He dropped them onto the grill and shut the lid, leaning his hip on the rail next to her. One hand held her leg as if worried she might fall backward and the other was holding the beer to his lips as he drank. All of his little touches meant to reassure her did more than that. They set her body straight into overdrive.
“Remove your hand, or we won’t be eating.” She bit her bottom lip at the same time her stomach growled.
His brows dipped. No doubt the sound of her hungry belly was the only reason he removed his hand. Feeding her seemed more important than seeking out her heat. “Anything else you want to know?”
“Do you want kids?”
His lips twisted at the corners. “I’d like a couple of cubs running around, but I guess that depends on you.”
“You were good with Gabe.” She gave a small smile and conceded by touching his arm.
“Do you want children?”
She hopped down from the railing and took a long swig of her beer, moving to sit in one of the lounge chairs. “Once upon a time, I did. Now, not so much.”
“What changed your mind?” He raised the lid on the grill and turned the steaks.
She chewed her bottom lip, not sure what to tell him. If he knew the truth, would he still want her? Still desire her if he knew the crud coursing in her veins? “I…”
The crack of a branch had her scanning the tree line and sniffing the air. Slowly, she rose from her seat and gripped the railing. The hair on her neck stood up to take notice, and her animals started to pace. She blinked, and her vision turned red while scanning the surrounding scenery, looking for what her human eyes couldn’t see. Nothing but large trees and thick brush covered the grounds. It was quiet. The crickets no longer chirped, and the birds took flight at once, soaring out of the trees and high into the sky.
“What’s back there?”
“About fifty acres of forest, a stream, and a pond,” he answered, and they both sniffed at the same time. This time she caught their faint scent. Her lips lifted in a predatory grin.
“Wolves,” they said at the same time.
“Go inside and lock the door,” Rhys growled, pulling the shirt off of his body, ready to shift.
“As if. This is my fight.”
She ripped the holster off her leg and shifted on the spot, not knowing or caring which of her animals emerged, as long as it was one big, bad-ass animal that could fight off a wolf attack. Long teeth slid out of her gums. The clothes ripped at the seams and dropped from her body as her bones extended and cracked before shrinking and contorting, snapping into place. The magic of the shift surrounded her, consuming her into her core, leaving her momentarily breathless. She dropped to all fours and shook her body, twitching her whiskers. She glanced down at her paws. Orange and brown stripes instead of orange and black. She wasn’t just a tiger. She was a Siberian. She’d wanted a bad-ass animal, and she got one. She opened her mouth, and a loud, angry roar rolled from deep in her gut.
Her bear growled, and she padded alongside of him, rubbing her face along his leg. They were both predators, and if they’d been in any other situation, she might dare call them enemies, but not tonight, not him, never him.
She ran in front of him, stopping just inside the tree line. Adjusting her vision, she scanned the woods while she paced. Her claws dug into the dirt, waiting, watching for the first wolf to appear. She sniffed the air and crouched low, ready to attack.
Five wolves stepped out from the trees, surrounding them, but none of them were Horace. She’d know his stink anywhere, and yet he wasn’t among this group of soon-to-be-dead wolves.
Bring it on, bitches. She purred in delight at the anticipation of blood on her lips.
Her bear stepped in front of her, blocking her from the wolves, and she nipped at his heels. Two wolves leaped toward him at once, one from the right and the other from the left. He caught one in a bear hug and squeezed as the wolf went for his neck. She caught the other wolf in mid jump, knocking him out of the air and landing on him with her 350-pound body. She sank her teeth into his neck and easily ripped into him, tearing the tendons and flesh. Blood coated her tongue and teeth, the coppery liquid sending her beast into a frenzy. It wanted to kill, to destroy. She licked her lips and eyed the remainder of the wolves, waiting to see who would be next.
Her bear had two more on him. One he batted down with his large, clawed paws, leaving gashes down the wolf’s belly. He howled in pain. The other wolf was clinging to Rhys’ back, his claws sunk deep into his pelt. Without a second thought, she jumped and ripped the wolf off, flinging him to the ground with her teeth embedded into his neck. He clawed and yapped and growled, getting one good slash at her shoulder before she tore out his throat. He gurgled around the gushing blood. Four down and more were appearing from the woods, surrounding them. One would fall, and two more would take his place.
Licking the blood from her whiskers, she scanned the trees looking for her next victim, the last big fucker with black hair that had dared to attack them first. He was nowhere to be found. She sniffed the air, catching the doggie stench on her whiskers a second too late.
He landed on her back with a thump. His teeth dug into her neck. Her bear’s roar vibrated through the ground. The acrid smell of her own blood drifted to her nose. She wasn’t about to die, not from this asshole. His teeth tore at her flesh, not loosening his hold, so she did the one thing she could think of, not having ever been in this skin before. She was a heavy bitch, and it was time she used her size to her advantage. She dropped to her belly and rolled with the bastard on her back, squishing him under her. The sound of bones cracking beneath her made her kitty purr, and the wolf’s bite slacken. It took her a second to get to her paws. She snarled, ready to finish the kill at the same time the man from the video, the one who had followed the girls from the club, Evan, jumped down from the tree with a sword in his hand.
“Help the bear,” he ordered. Lifting the blade in the air, he plunged it directly into the wolf’s heart.
She leapt on the nearest wolf, clawing and ripping her way through the crowd toward Rhys. Her cramping, sore muscles screamed in protest, but she wouldn’t stop—she’d never stop—not until she reached him.
He was destroying the wolves, making a path directly toward her until they were side by side. The remaining wolves left standing were pacing like caged animals. The leader of this attack lay dead at their feet.
Who’s next?
