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A low whistle pierced the air. “Zoe.” The voice had a singsong quality to it. Like one child taunting another on the playground. It was Pietro. He’d stopped under a streetlamp, purposely allowing her to see him, the bastard. Despite her precautions, somehow he’d found her. “Don’t run away. You’ll spoil my game.”
It might have been smarter to barricade herself in her apartment and call the cops. But that was only a preventative measure, not a solution. Not unless Pietro was locked up for good, and that was unlikely. She had no proof other than her word against his. And that was assuming the authorities could find him. Given his tenacity and the ease with which he’d tracked her down, this wasn’t the first time he’d done this.
A sense of hopelessness washed over her. Despair threatened to choke her. Maybe she shouldn’t have ignored Devlin’s calls. It didn’t come as any shock that he’d somehow unearthed her number. He was nothing if not tenacious. For all his skulking around, he hadn’t scared her. Not like Pietro did.
“I’m not happy with you, Zoe.” The way he said her name left a sick feeling in her stomach. “Didn’t you like the gift I left you?”
What was he talking about?
He held up his hand. Long claws extended from the tips. This was no movie magic, no special effects. This was real.
She slapped her hand over her mouth to silence the scream that wanted to escape.Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.The marks on her door. It had been him. If she stepped out of the shadows, he’d see her. If she ran, he’d catch her. She had to find a place to hide.
When he turned his back and looked in the other direction, she made her move. She crept to one of the windows where some of the boards had been pulled away. Carefully, she eased her bags off her shoulders and pushed them through the opening. Then she threw her leg over the sill and followed.
It was a tight squeeze. A nail or jagged piece of board dug into her upper arm, leaving a long gash. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Blood trickled toward her forearm.
Ignoring it, she hunkered down and pulled out her phone. Her hands were trembling so hard she almost dropped it. This might be the biggest mistake of her life, but she was out of options.
Whoever or whatever he was, Pietro was a monster. Devlin had tried to warn her. Fingers shaking, she pulled up the missed calls, saved him as a contact, and tapped out a short text with her location.
Something scraped not far from her. She stuffed her phone into her pocket and held her breath. The pounding of her heart made it difficult to hear. She listened intently, praying it was a big rat and not her stalker.
…
Devlin grabbed his phone when it vibrated, his heart stopping when he read the text message. His blood ran cold. The rogue had found her.
Fear threatened to choke him. He took precious seconds to pull up the GPS on his phone and plug in her location. He wasn’t far. Stuffing his phone away, he ran. He had enough sense not to push it to preternatural speeds. There were too many people around, too many recording devices. That could lead to bigger problems.
His wolf was howling, battering at him to get out.Mine!The word echoed inside him with each footfall. With her life in imminent peril, he could no longer deny the truth that had been staring him in the face since their first encounter. Whatever was between them went beyond mere sexual attraction. It was primal. Natural or the result of magic, the need to protect her was ingrained in his DNA, as much a part of him as the color of his hair and eyes.
Too long.It was taking far too long to get to her. He’d seen firsthand what rogues did to their victims—the torn flesh, the blood, the lifeless bodies. His mouth went dry. If anything happened to her…
Whatever had brought them together, they were bound in some unexplainable way. If the rogue killed her, there would be no holding back his wolf. And if he broke the most basic rules of werewolves—exposing his differences to humans—the packs would petition the gray and black wolves to get rid of him.
His wolf was on high alert as he whipped around the corner onto a quieter street and caught the scent of the rogue. His gaze arrowed in on an abandoned building.
Hang on, I’m coming.
…
Curled into a ball to make herself as small as possible, Zoe sucked in a faint breath and curled her fingers into fists. Her top was stuck to her body with sweat, even as she shivered. The primal urge to run was almost overwhelming. She resisted. If she moved, he’d know where she was.
“You think I can’t see you?” His laugh was so close it sent goosebumps racing down her arms. “I already know where you are.”
Glowing eyes appeared in front of her. Gasping, she scrambled back, digging her heels and hands into the rotting floor. Her back slammed into a corner. She was trapped.
Something brushed her face. She batted at it, but it was already gone.
“I can touch you whenever I want. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” His excitement and pleasure sickened her. He was getting off on her fear.
Fuck that! And fuck him.
She was no victim. If she was going to die, she was going to do her best to take him with her.
Hang on until Devlin comes.
She couldn’t afford to wait. She patted the ground with her hand, searching for something to use as a makeshift weapon. The area had been cleared out. There wasn’t even a scrap of wood lying around.
