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That’s when Madi bolts from the room.
No one dares stop her. They must know I would shred them to ribbons with my fangs if anyone else touched her.
I pause long enough to grab a pair of boxers and pants from the closet and yank them on, then follow. Her scent doesn’t lead to the elevator.
Instead, I follow it to the emergency stairwell. I throw open the door, prepared to leap down a flight of stairs at a time, but I find her huddled inside the door, her back against the concrete wall, knees drawn up to her chest. She’s panting like she can’t catch her breath, holding her head between her knees to keep from passing out. She’s in shock.
I force myself to slow my approach to appear non-threatening. “Madi. Sweetheart.” I crouch in front of her. “You're safe, Madi. You're always safe with me.”
My mind spins on how to help her. What to say. She’s not a delicate flower who just needs to be held. No, Madi’s a very smart young woman. If she’s flipping out right now, it’s because she hasn’t wrapped her mind around what she just saw. She probably requires facts to assimilate it all.
I sit on the top stair and start speaking softly. “I'm a wolf.”
She doesn’t answer. I didn’t expect her to.
“A shifter. Moon Co is run by shifters. We're not harmful to humans. We're just another species.”
She’s still sucking in her breath, her shoulder blades jutting out in a way that makes her appear so damn vulnerable.
“I'm not a monster, Madi. I'm just different, that's all.” I reach out and touch her knee. “You're safe.”
Her breathing slows. She lifts her head from between her knees and gives me a tentative glance.
“This may be a good time to remind you of the NDA you signed.” It’s meant to be a joke to lighten the mood.
It works. She lets out a weak laugh.
“H-how many?”
Of course she just wants more facts. That’s my brilliant girl.
“How many of us are wolves?”
She nods.
I scoot closer to her, still careful not to move quickly. “All of the executive team. Less than a hundred others. Most of my employees are human.”
“I mean how many in the world?”
“Oh, percentage-wise? It’s very low. Our species are endangered. A fraction of a percent.”
“Oh.” She rubs the fronts of her legs like she’s trying to warm up, but her gaze jumps around like her brain is churning. She gasps, eyes widening. “That's why your name is Blackthroat. Because of the markings on your fur.” She brings her fingers to her throat, stroking the place where I have a line of black fur that runs from chin to chest.
“Yes.”
“And your cousin is Adalwulf. It's so obvious now. Gives a whole new meaning to the Wolves of Wall Street doesn't it?” Her laugh has a hysterical note to it.
“We prefer Werewolves of Wall Street.” The corners of my lips lift in a tentative smile.
“The wolves in the Berkshires?”
“My sister and the team out looking for you.”
She gives a rueful laugh. “Ruby was the one with the black markings on her throat and chest like yours.”
“Exactly.”
“She was trying to comfort me.”
