The Girl Who Cried Werewolf

by Heather Hildenbrand

  He doesn’t move from where he stands beside the sill, and I appreciate his efforts to keep the mess contained. When he’s done all he can do with the towel, he lets it hang limp as he surveys the space.

  “Any other traps I should know about?”

  “Not at this time.”

  He grunts then takes a step and tosses the towel into my dirty laundry bin.

  I bite my lip as he finally looks over at me. Streaks of white remain in his hair, giving him an older, almost salt-and-pepper vibe that I have to admit is still pretty hot. His skin is shiny thanks to the oil, but even that isn’t a turn off. Mental images of Kash’s body slick against mine flash in my head, and I shake them away.

  Damn. This guy is sexy no matter what I do.

  It’s not fair.

  His brows dip in confusion. “I don’t understand. Are you attempting to fry me up or scare me away?”

  “I’m using what I have at my disposal,” I said, glaring. “Haven’t you ever seen Home Alone?”

  He shakes his head. “I have to admit using baking material as a deterrent shouldn’t be effective for intruders.” He pauses to brush more flour from his shirt. Thanks to the layer of oil underneath, the flour simply coats his hand. “But it is.”

  “Yeah, well, stop breaking and entering, and I won’t have to do it.”

  “No one’s breaking anything, Pepper, and as for entering . . .”

  His gaze travels lazily down my body, taking in my oversized sleep shirt with a grumpy cat on it before lingering on my bare legs. When he looks up at me, a ripple of pleasure threatens to buckle my knees at the desire swimming in his dark eyes.

  He takes a step toward me then stops, suddenly stiffening.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper.

  He sniffs the air then drops the smile in favor of a glower. “Your apartment has a male scent.”

  “So?” I ask, my voice rising as I remember this is my house and I don’t have to be quiet.

  “So, it didn’t the last time I was in here.”

  “Last time?” I growl in frustration. “Do you hear yourself right now? You’re comparing the smell to a day you illegally entered my home. Wait. How many times have you been here, anyway?”

  He ignores the accusation and the question. “It’s the same meathead I met at your cupcake party.”

  “His name is Brody,” I say. “He’s a friend of Anna’s. And he slept on the couch.”

  Kash scowls.

  I cross my arms. “Is there something I can do for you? I thought we were done with the stalking. In fact, I’m pretty sure that you insisted we were.”

  Kash’s gaze wanders the room then zeroes in on my desk against the wall. “Light reading?”

  I follow his stare to the stack of werewolf books I’ve been studying, my copy of Restoration by Randi Cooley Wilson laying on top, and flush with embarrassment. When I look back at Kash, his lips curve in amusement.

  “That’s none of your concern,” I mutter, arms still crossed, mostly to hide the fact that my nipples have gone hard at the realization that we’re both in my bedroom and I’m half-naked.

  Kash inhales again, this time his amusement turning to something else. Something more . . . wild. He steps closer, his voice dropping low.

  “I could give your followers a real show,” he drawls. “Something a little different than you had in mind but just as satisfying.”

  My lips press tightly together as his sexy voice suggests the very thing that’s kept me awake more nights than this whole werewolf campaign combined. Suddenly, all I can think about is running my hands over his oil-slicked body. My skin tingles, and my knees go weak, but I refuse to give in to his taunting.

  “I don’t kiss and tell. Unlike some people,” I say.

  Kash’s brows lift and he pulls my old phone from his back pocket, holding it up for me to see. “You mean this? Trust me, Pepper, the photos I take of you are completely private. I have no intention of sharing.”

  The muscles in my stomach clench at his words. His chest rumbles, and he steps closer, pulling me into his arms. I’m so busy being turned on by his touch that I can’t bring myself to care about the oil and flour he’s rubbing all over me.

  “You smell delicious when you’re turned on.”

  My face flames. Stupid werewolf senses. His hand captures my chin, lifting until my eyes meet his. “Don’t be embarrassed, Pepper. It’s damn sexy.”

  I pull my chin from his grip and step back before I can do something stupid. Like tackle him onto my bed and try out that thing I read about on page 117 last night. Instead, I take a deep breath, calming myself, and try to get the conversation back on track.

  “What are you doing here, Kash?”

  “I’m not sure,” he answers. He runs a hand through his messy waves, and I’m momentarily distracted by the strip of skin that shows beneath the raised hem of his shirt. It’s flour-free. And gorgeous.

  “Dammit, Pepper,” he curses. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

  My brows pucker. “Like what?”

  A smirk crawls across his face, and he says, “Like you want to eat me.” My cheeks heat once more, and he chuckles.

  “Maybe I do,” I mumble too low for him to hear.

  His gaze snaps to me, and his eyes glow. Oops. I thought it was too low for him to hear. Stupid werewolf hearing. I shift uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze, and he reluctantly shakes his thoughts away.

  “You wanna get out of here?”

  I hesitate, certain I must have heard him wrong. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Let’s go somewhere. I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to,” he says, flashing me a crooked smile.

  “I thought you hated me,” I blurt out, confused by his sudden change of attitude.

  He looks at me like I’m crazy, and I take a second to think about each of our interactions. Sure, there’s always been an undercurrent of attraction thrumming between us, but on the surface, Kash has always made it clear he has no intention of acting on that attraction.

  Today feels different.

  He steps closer, breaking me from my thoughts and pulling me into his embrace.

  “I don’t hate you,” he murmurs, tilting my chin up once more. “I like you. More than I probably should. Your courage and sass keep me constantly on my toes. You’re sexy as hell, and you never do what I expect. It’s intriguing as hell.”

  His words leave me stunned and a little hopeful.

  He sighs like his confession is costing him something. “I meant what I said, though. My world isn’t for you. Being alpha means I have a lot of shit to do, and unfortunately, that doesn’t include you right now.”

  My heart speeds up then clenches at his declaration. It always seems like he’s whispering sweet nothings to me and telling me goodbye at the same time. “What do you want from me, Kash? If being here breaks so many of your damn rules, then why come back?” I growl, frustrated at the entire situation.

  His eyes light up, and he smiles like my anger amuses him. “Because, Pepper, as alpha, I make the rules,” he says, nuzzling my ear. “Go out with me,” he whispers against my neck.

  “Why me?” I breathe. “Why now?”

  “You want answers, and I want . . .”

  His unfinished sentence hangs between us. I hold my breath, waiting. Hoping. Willing him to say it. You. I want you.

  “I want to give them to you,” he finishes, and I exhale. “Come out with me for the day. I’ll tell you what I am.”

  Despite his very platonic offer, he’s still standing way too close, his nose brushing over my neck as he nuzzles and teases my skin.

  My heartbeat roars in my ears, covering up all sensible thoughts my brain might be trying to scream at me; like the fact that him being a werewolf means he has a mate out there somewhere. My throat feels tight with emotion, robbing me of speech. So against my better judgement, I nod.

  “Okay,” I breathe. “Where should we go?”

  “I have an ide
a. But first, I’m going to need to take a shower.”

  “Why hello there, sexy,” I purr.

  “You’re not looking so bad yourself,” Kash says, his eyes raking over my body in undisguised appreciation. My favorite sweater is belted over my short black dress and paired with thigh-high boots. Very little of me is actually showing, but his gaze burns just as brightly as it did when he saw me in my cupkini.

  I snort and roll my eyes. “Hush. Not you. I’m talking to the books,” I say, running my finger along the shelves.

  His mouth drops open, and I grin wickedly.

  His responding chuckle is deep and loud enough to earn him a quiet reprimand from the staff nearby.

  I breathe in the delicious scent of old books and sigh in contentment. Kash could not have chosen a better spot for our non-date. The Boston Athenaeum, a privately owned library, is on the small side, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in grandeur. Rare books are intermingled with beautiful works of art. Statues and sculptures are tucked into every corner. It’s a book lover’s dream.

  “Come on. There’s one over here that you’ll love,” Kash says, pulling me toward another display. He points to a leather book inside a glass case, and my eyes widen as I read the plaque next to it.

  “It’s bound in human skin,” I whisper incredulously. “That’s disgusting. And a little bit awesome,” I admit sheepishly.

  Kash chuckles, leading me away from the grotesquely beautiful book and into one of the four reading rooms beyond.

  I glance around and realize we’re alone. It’s the weekend, but it’s still early, and the library is surprisingly empty. I steal a glance at Kash as he stares at the shelves of books, and the urge to get to know him hits me hard. Not Kash the werewolf. Not Kash the alpha. Kash the man. But I’m not sure how to get him to open up to me.

  “Is the full moon the werewolf equivalent of PMS?” I ask, plastering on my most sincere face. If I can’t get him to talk, maybe I can get him to laugh.

  Sure enough, Kash’s head snaps towards me, and a reluctant chuckle escapes from his lips.

  “No, Pepper. The full moon isn’t the werewolf equivalent of PMS. Quite the opposite, actually. We’re at our best during a full moon. We’re stronger, faster, and even happier,” he says.

  I stare at him in shock. I expected him to brush me off like he’s been doing since we met. My mind races with all the questions that burn for an answer, and I hurry to ask another question while he’s still being candid.

  “So your body doesn’t go crazy, demanding you shift on a full moon?” I try to ask casually.

  He rolls his eyes at me, clearly not falling for my feigned interest.

  “No,” he says. “But even if it did, what does that have to do with PMS exactly?”

  I shrug. “That’s what happens to chicks during PMS. Our bodies become rage monsters. I thought it was a good comparison.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head at me, but I can tell he’s trying hard not to smile. “Think about it, Pepper. Was it a full moon the first time you saw me?”

  “I guess not,” I admit, thinking back to that scene in the alley–and the toenail-sized moon I’d noticed just before my entire world had changed forever.

  “It wasn’t what you think.”

  My brows knit in confusion. “What wasn’t what I thought?”

  “What you saw that night in the alley. It’s not what you think.”

  “What was it then?”

  His brows draw together, and he hesitates. His eyes swim with some memory and then darken. “Retribution,” he says finally.

  I watch, stunned, as anger flashes behind his careful expression. Since when does Kash tell me anything about his personal life without me stalking and aggravating him first?

  “Is today a full moon?” I ask suspiciously. “Because you’re being weirdly nice, and it’s starting to freak me out.”

  “Nice is what freaks you out?” He shakes his head. “And you think I’m the strange one.”

  I cross my arms. “Want to know my least favorite thing about werewolves?”

  He doesn’t answer, but his eyes shine with interest, so I tell him.

  “It’s a tie between your sense of smell and your heightened hearing,” I say, clasping my arms behind my back and rocking on my heels. “Both of those things are super annoying.”

  He smirks at me, reaching out for my hand before pulling me up a spiral staircase and deeper into the stacks of books. When we reach the end of the aisle, he cages me in, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Those two are my favorites.”

  His nose brushes against my neck as he talks, and I let out a breathy sigh that quickly becomes a moan as his tongue darts out to trace the shell of my ear.

  “We also have a superior sense of taste,” he says, softly biting the spot where my pulse races before soothing it with his tongue.

  My breathing becomes ragged, and the sound of my blood rushing through my veins seems too loud, even to my human ears. I fist the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

  “All out of questions, Pepper?” he asks, pressing his forehead against my own.

  I scowl, irritated at my body’s willingness to forget everything when I’m near him.

  I push against his chest and slip out from under his arms, stalking down the aisle to the next section of books. My heartbeat thunders in my own ears as I struggle to get control back.

  “Quit trying to distract me. It won’t work,” I huff over my shoulder.

  Kash follows me, amusement shining in his eyes, and he winks at me.

  “Sure looked like it was working to me.”

  He ducks past into another stack of books. I stand there, grinding my teeth, irritated that he’s somehow turned the tables again. So instead of chasing after him, I walk right past him and into the next row.

  He’s a wolf. A predator. Let him chase me.

  I bite my lip, pretending to browse the shelves. My concentration is really on listening for footsteps at my back, but Kash doesn’t follow me.

  “Fucking werewolves,” I mumble.

  “Now, Pepper, you can’t condemn all werewolves just because you love to fight with me.” Kash’s amused voice drifts to me from the other side of the bookshelf.

  I smile, leaning my back against the shelf he’s hiding behind. “You should be a better werewolf representative then.”

  “I wasn’t aware I was the ambassador for my species.”

  I roll my eyes. “Are we just going to talk to each other through the books then?”

  “You sounded like you needed the space.” His tone smacks of smugness.

  “Maybe you just don’t know what to do with me once you catch me,” I counter.

  He lets out a real laugh, and I’m startled by the sound of it as books move beside my head. I turn, shocked to see Kash peeking between the spines. His intense blue eyes stare at me as a smirk crosses his stupid, gorgeous face.

  “Trust me, Pepper, I know just what to do when I get my hands on you.” His grin turns wicked, and he whispers, “In fact, I plan to have more than just my hands on you before we’re through.”

  I shudder as my imagination whirls with all the possibilities.

  Kash only watches me with those predatory eyes as if he’s enjoying my reaction just as much as the chase.

  My feet move even before I give them permission, but Kash stops me before I can slip around to where he waits.

  “I know you have questions about what I am, but if I’m going to give you any answers, it’s going to be like this. It’s the only way I can keep my hands off of you,” he says with a growl.

  My entire body clenches, and I grip the bookshelf for support.

  Kash’s eyes darken, and I know the scent of my own desire is undoubtedly filling the space between us. “Pepper,” he says through clenched teeth. “If you don’t stop, I’ll be forced to rip this entire bookcase down to get to you.”

  His threat only makes my own fantasies worse.
I gasp at the images that flitter through my mind.

  He groans from his side of the bookshelf, and I shake my head, trying to clear the lustful thoughts. Instead, I try to remember all of the things I’ve been dying to ask Kash. He’s offering to give me the answers I so desperately want, and I don’t want to waste it.

  “Do you have to be born a werewolf, or are werewolves bitten and turned?” I ask

  “Both. A werewolf can either be born to parents who are both shifters or be bitten and turned.” His voice is strained but clear, and I know he’s still struggling to focus. “When you’re bitten and turned, it’s not like the crazed moments in so many books and movies. It’s actually a gentle, extremely private act. Normally only done when a shifter falls in love with a human.”

  “Which are you?” I whisper in a shaky voice. “Were you born a werewolf or turned?”

  “Both of my parents were shifters. I was born this way as was the rest of my pack.”

  “And do you, you know, live forever?”

  He laughs. “Not forever. Werewolves age slower than humans. We can live two or three hundred years easily.”

  “Three hundred?” I repeat incredulously. “How old are you? And please don’t say something weird like eighty-seven. I don’t think I can kiss you again knowing I’m making out with a pervy old man.”

  He laughs. “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “Whew. What a relief.”

  I want to take a minute to actually digest everything he’s telling me, but his answers only lead to more questions. I plow ahead.

  “What does it mean to be alpha? How many people are in your pack? Who’s your beta? Please say it isn’t pervy Doyle.”

  He snorts. “Doyle is definitely not my beta.”

  “Lynch then.”

  “Very good.”

  “How did you get the role? I mean, was it passed down from your dad, or did you have to fight for it?”

  Kash doesn’t answer. I peek between the book spines and notice there’s something wrong about his expression now.

  “Let me guess. Werewolves hold elections, and you’re a man of the people,” I say, letting him off the hook.

  “Your imagination is boundless, Pepper.”