Like her. Smells nice, the beast rumbles lazily.
Ignoring the growly voice, I cling to my righteous indignation.
How could a human who knows about wolves move to a town with an active pack and not alert us of their knowledge?
It’s selfish. Irresponsible.
Who else could she have told?
Why is she here?
What does she want?
Without answers to these questions, I’m jumpy and irritated. My knuckles whiten on the grips of my handles.
The dark woods echo the roar of my engine as I approach Juliet’s house. This is not a covert arrival, and I grit my teeth, annoyed at myself when I blow past Hester’s home, still making a huge racket. Not a good move, but it’s too late now.
When I reach the dilapidated driveway, I shut off my bike and barely take the required time to drop the kickstand before I’m storming up to the shabby cottage.
Den is old. Not safe for our mate.
I shake my head and silently snarl at my wolf.She isnotour mate!
And soon, she’ll be gone.
My heavy boots make the old wood of the porch groan, and the front light flicks on when the sensor catches my approach. I want to pound on the front door, but if I do that too hard, I’ll set off the alarm I installed. If the alarm starts up and Juliet isn’t fast enough to shut the thing off, the cops will be notified, and a cruiser will come out to check what’s going on.
The police, whether they be wolf or not, are not something I want to deal with right now.
This is a private conversation.
So, even though it does nothing to satisfy the urgency rattling through my limbs, I press the tiny doorbell and listen to the tinkling chime sound through the small house. As the welcoming noise fades, I hear footsteps approaching from the kitchen.
There’s a rustle of fabric, and I realize a set of familiar mossy-green eyes is peering at me from the window beside the door. Which frustrates me for a whole new reason.
I spent the entire day installing her new security system, which includes cameras, and she makes herself vulnerable by peering out the window instead?
Juliet gives me a raised eyebrow and frown.
With the way we left things, I wouldn’t be surprised if she refused to open her front door.
I need to give her some incentive.
Speaking loud enough for even her non-supernatural ears to hear through the glass, I snarl one word.
“Werewolves.”
14
RODERICK
Juliet throws her door wide. “Human.”She points to herself, then lifts a brow. “What of it?”
Even though I came here with questions to be answered, I briefly lose the ability to speak.
Earlier, the librarian was wearing jeans and a sweater. The clothing clung to her body in a distracting way, but I could handle the view.
Now, I encounter a true challenge.
