Never Cry Wolf

When she finally opened her eyes, Hunter could hear muted voices. Turning her head, she realized she was in an unfamiliar bedroom. Sitting up slowly, she winced at the tell-tale tug of freshly knitted muscles in her side. Even though shifting from her wolf form back to her human form had healed her injuries, it had left her feeling like she’d been run over by a Mack truck. Tossing the covers off her legs, she moved to the edge of the bed then stood up. She stumbled for a moment before regaining her balance. It was a vague reminder of her run in with the dark sedan in the Perkin’s parking lot.

Moving cautiously into the bathroom, she sank down on the toilet and tried to stop the trembling of her legs. Not only was she sore from the werewolf bite plus being hit by the car, her wolf was busy reminding her that the full moon was only hours away.

Deciding to forgo the shower that would restore her to full health, easing her aching muscles, she assessed the window behind the toilet. It was small but with some squeezing she could possibly use it as an escape route. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of a screen door opening and slamming before the rumble from a car’s starting and pulling away filled the evening air.

Reaching up, she flicked open the old style turn lock on the top of the window. Giving it a shove, she grunted when it resisted. Someone in the past had painted the damn thing shut. Even with her shifter strength it was going to take some serious tugging to get it open. Straddling the toilet and bending at the knees, she pushed off the floor with her legs. The window finally opened with an audible pop.

She was just pushing out the screen when an amused voice came from behind her.

“Going somewhere, teroso mio?”

She froze before glancing over her shoulder at him. Dre was there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the door jam. She noticed while he was still wearing his jeans from earlier, he was now wearing a partially buttoned white short-sleeve shirt. She had to lick her lips as they went dry at the contrast of his olive colored skin and the stark whiteness from his shirt. She could see a smattering of dark curls on his chest as he shifted when he pushed away from the door.

“Ah, teroso mio, devouring me with those big eyes isn’t a wise idea.” The husky timber of his voice sent chills of awareness up her spine. “We need to talk first.”

Her eyes darted up to his face and she caught her breath as she realized he’d had seen her shift. Aw fuck! She spun around and made a dart for the window.

Just as she hopped on the closed toilet seat to hoist herself through the window, he spoke again. “Are you sure you want to do it this way, Hunter? I won’t be gentle.”

She paled. He was going to draw her death out? Like hell she was going to stick around for that. She dove through the open window. Tucking and rolling, she winced as the coarse shrubs and weeds bit at her tender skin. She glanced at herself and noted that diving through an open window in nothing more than her camisole and boy shorts wasn’t her smartest move. When a roar split the early evening air, she swallowed. Her wolf stretched then lunged within her loudly demanding that she make the man in the cabin prove his worthiness as a mate. She darted towards the thickly wooded area behind the cabin.