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“How dare you?” I said, snatching the fabric off him. It unraveled at my touch. “You tore my cloak? How could you?” My eyes watered as I stared at the flowing red material in my hands. Hollowness spread throughout my chest because I’d taken such good care of Grandma’sgarment.
“My grandmother gave me this,” I said, wondering if I could sew it back onto the rest of the cloak, except it would never be the same. I wiped my cheeks and raised my chin, staring at the man’s bangs, the color of cocoa, sweeping across his brow. Short hair edged along the sides of his head and the back. He studied me with softness in his eyes as if pitying me. And only then did I realize the impact of me stripping him, and I burned for a whole differentreason.
Oh, dear. His girth had my knees quivering beneathme.
Okay, I’d had one boyfriend before, but he was normal-sized… Actually, non-existent in the downstairs department incomparison.
The shifter laughed, his earlier stiff expression relaxed andunrestrained.
I lifted my gaze, convinced I’d turned into a berry in color. “What’s going on? Why were you wearing my cloak and where am I? Where are yourclothes?”
The man closed the distance between us, and I recoiled, gripping the fabric. Despite fear clouding my head, butterflies twirled in my stomach from imagining myself touching the muscled curves of his chest. He carried a beauty about him with his small nose and boyish charm. He wasn’t built huge, but he had muscles and lots of them. His cheekbones brought out his glimmering eyes. The fire reflected in his pupils, flicking this way and that, changing the colors from a gray to a grassy hue. If I’d crossed paths with him anywhere else, I’d have stopped in my tracks and gawked. Now I wasn’t sure if I should run or chat himup.
“You need not fear me,” he said, his voice honeyed and low with a trace of huskiness. The complete opposite of what I’dexpected.
“I beg to diff.” I squared my shoulders to look bigger, though I couldn’t achieve anywhere near the height of the stranger who towered over me. “Are you the shifter who rough handled me outside and head-buttedme?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in an arrogant triumph, and he ran a hand through his short hair, drawing my attention to his flexingbicep.
“We prefer to call ourselves ‘hunters.’ ‘Shifter’ is such ahumanword, referring to anything that takes animalform.”
“So youwerethe gray wolf?” My voicedipped.
“No, I’m not gray. That’sDagen.”
I nodded, chewing on my cheek.Dagen.Must be the alpha? “So, what will you do with me? Can I leave?” Though the idea of returning home knotted my thoughts thanks to the situation with the priestess. What was worse? Facing off against shif… hunters, or an angry leader? Not sureyet.
“Call me ‘Nero.’ And well,”—he licked his lips like a starved wolf who hadn’t eaten for a week—“we have a slightproblem.”
“Hmm.” I wasn’t liking where this was going, and I didn’t like being stuck in a house with Nero—and who knew where the other wolves lingered? Was their “slight problem” an inability to decide which one should tear me to shreds first? But Grandma had taught me to show no fear because sometimes wearing confidence scared away the enemy. I tucked part of her cloak into my backpocket.
I straightened my posture and approached the man, my sights on the door. “Well, good luck with your problem, and thanks for not eating me. But I mustgo.”
Despite sweat dripping down my back, I kept my composure together and passed Nero. Every nerve crackled. The door was in sight, and I reached for thehandle.
Nero leaned a shoulder against the door. He yawned as if this were a game… and what if itwas?
I tugged on the doorknob with noluck.
“Little lamb, you’re not goinganywhere.”
