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Moving behind the dumpster, she crouched down on her hind legs. Her wolf form filled her with adrenaline, and she thrived on the energy. She focused on the calm in the eye of the storm and allowed herself to shift into her human skin.
She fell against the wall of a bakery, exhausted.
Exhaling a long breath, she grabbed her clothes, stuffing Jace’s shirt she’d carried in her muzzle in, and pulled on the jeans, tank top and jacket. She left her jewelry and lingerie in the backpack. She didn’t give a shit about a bra.
Home. Bed.
That was all she wanted. There she could escape the sadness and anxiety balling up in her chest. Why had she slept with Jace?
A one-night stand?
That wasn’t her style and yet...
She didn’t regret it. One night of freedom.
Before reality and her obligations to her pack came crashing down again.
She threw the bag over her shoulder and sprinted down the road toward her apartment. Not the burner, but her home. It wasn’t far. When she reached the entrance, she jammed the key into the lock and fumbled with the handle.
She scrambled up the stairs, then strode down the hallway to her door.
Finally.
Her muscles weakened, threatening to collapse. She pushed the door open and stopped. Her keys hit the floor.
“No. No. No. This isn’t… No.” Her eyes locked onto the phrase painted across her wall. Bile rose up in her throat, and her stomach flipped.
A loud battlecry rose above the sounds of clashing swords, drowning out the noises of the surrounding forest. A large man decorated in the skins of a wolf towered over the beautiful woman standing before him. His weapon pushed against hers. Despite his size, she shoved against his blade with the strength to match his.
“Give up, you Valkyrie whore.”
As she spun with her sword in hand, golden hair swirling around her shoulders, Freyja’s sword collided with the man’s shield. “The Brighasmann is mine and mine alone, Loki. I’ll be more than happy to kill you for it.”
A sneer crossed Loki’s face, and a deep growl ripped from his throat. “If you so much as wound my flesh, I will destroy your precious warriors one by one.”
Freyja let out a scream so loud and shrill the ground beneath them shook. “You won’t be able to touch them. They’re too powerful to destroy.” She gritted her teeth and slashed her sword across his body. The edge of her blade bit into his arm.
He stumbled back, clutching his wound. Blood gushed from the tear. “I am the God of Mischief. I can’t destroy them, but I will wreak havoc in their lives until they destroy one another.” He grinned, then chuckled hysterically. “Look into my eyes and see for yourself.”
Freyja met Loki’s gaze. Reflected in his eyes, Jace lay in the middle of a pool of blood while the light faded from his pupils.
Jace jolted awake. Cold sweat poured over his skin as he snapped upright, and he fought to calm his breathing. Fuck. What kind of dream was that? He flopped back down onto the bed, eyes closed. He wracked his brain to remember the names of the man and woman. Damn. The image of himself lying dead and bloody invaded his thoughts. It was so vivid. If he could just get back to sleep… Without nightmares.
He rolled onto his side and tried to let sleep reclaim him, but it was no use. He lay there, still groggy, until his alarm on his phone blared like a damn foghorn. He cracked one eye open and glared at the clock. 3:00 p.m.He smacked at the buttons until he hit the right one. Why the hell had he set the alarm to go off this early in the afternoon? A nocturnal creature in all senses of the word, he waged an ongoing war against the sun, vowing to ignore its existence.
He sat up and stretched, his muscles tight. What the hell had he done last night? He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced down at his morning wood.
He’d fucked a werewolf. Onlyafterlosing his job the night before. His vision spun.
Shit.
He slid off the bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Whiskey. He needed whiskey. Yeah, his head would clear after a swig.
Placing his hands on the countertop, he looked up at the top shelf. What the…? A small prickle of pain cut into his hand, and a droplet of blood pooled on his pinkie finger. Broken shards of glass and sticky, dried liquor covered the counter. Shit. The last bottle had broken in his hand. When she’d followed him into the kitchen, dropped to her knees and…
His cock throbbed. She’d taken the full length of him in and sucked him like it was her calling. Those full breasts and those sweet, pink nipples had jumped like mad as he slammed into her after. He could run his tongue over her all night long. But when she’d run her tongue over him? He hadn’t known what to do with himself he’d gone so wild. Princess was like his personal brand of heroine. Addicting. He’d had her in every way he wanted. She’d…
Wait…
