Fate is calling…

After a strange encounter in a dark alley, journalist Tamriel’s life is turned upside down. She’s missing days, developing odd new abilities, and being followed by the mysterious Leyth.

Dark, dangerous – and too gorgeous for his own good – Leyth’s determined to teach Tamriel about her new life as a werewolf. And just as intent on keeping their relationship strictly business.

But as their simmering bond grows, Tamriel and Leyth face a bigger challenge; Tam may be their kind’s strongest weapon against the Circle; a deadly group of paranormal creatures gone rogue. That is, if she’s ready to give in to her destiny and put up the fight of her life…

Silence of the Wolves
Hannah Pole

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2013

Copyright © Hannah Pole 2013

Hannah Pole asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2013 ISBN: 9781472017116

Version date: 2018-10-30

HANNAH POLE says:

I am a born and bred wild child. (I like to think so anyway!)

I moved to sunny Folkestone to escape and find my feet as, well, whatever I was destined to be. But, alas, my short attention span made finding my destiny a little difficult. One day I came across an old diary entry that made me laugh so hard I actually fell off my chair. (Yes, this really can happen!)

I decided that the entry was so funny, it needed to be shared with the world. So I started writing, and attempted to turn it into a novel. Though to this day that novel remains unfinished, it will always be the novel that got me started, and showed me what I was passionate about. I have aspired to be everything from a private investigator to a zoo keeper; my interests change so quickly that I could never stick to one. Writing gives me the freedom to choose; I can be a cold-hearted assassin in love with a poet one day and the secret lesbian lover of a politician the next!

All my life, I have had a strong, unwavering passion for anything supernatural, spiritual and slightly unexplainable, I love the idea that there can be something completely fantastical lurking beneath the confines of normality. So of course, mythical creatures of all shapes and sizes dominate most of my work

In a nutshell, I am a creative, crazy bean, living with my lovely husband and a house full of too many animals. I’ve always secretly wished I were a werewolf of some description, but have come to realise that I will have to settle for writing about them instead! I’m happiest in the sun with my head in a good book! All I can say from here is, I hope you like what you read!

Firstly, thank you to Daniel Pole, my lovely man. Thank you for supporting me through my literary dreams. I realise the long hours I’ve put into these books have left you wifeless and fending for yourself most of the time. I am truly grateful that you still put up with me after all this time.

And to Anna, my editor, thank you for your patience and keen eye for detail. Without your help, I can honestly say this book would not be even remotely as strong as it is today. Your guidance and passion has made me a better writer than I could ever have hoped to be.

I would also like to thank Vicky Castle, for getting me started. Georgia Lycett, Liza, Mike and William Townsend for all your love and support. And to Fiona Dixon and Adam Stewart for keeping me going through the hard parts.

Thank you to everyone who has put up with my constant rambling; it is greatly appreciated and, without you, I wouldn’t have made it this far.

Contents

Cover

Copy

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Breaking news

Swirling her now cold coffee around in her mug, Tamriel sat staring at the screen at the only two words she’d written all day. As if it was taunting her, the screen saver flashed up again, notifying her that she’d not done a thing for the last twenty minutes. With a sigh, she moved the mouse to bring the screen back up, checked her email for the hundredth time, and finally logged out.

Picking up her jumper, she headed for the door.

Two weeks and not one good story. TWO WEEKS!

She’d become a junior reporter for Kent News because she loved the excitement of a good story; she loved the chase of the unknown. What she’d found, however, was a whole lot of nothing. Wow, yesterday, a cat had managed to get stuck in a tree… Like that’s never happened before.

Breaking news! I’m stuck in a dead end job, going nowhere.

Waving goodbye to the few people she actually spoke to in the office, and passing Harlan the creepy janitor, she stepped out into the cold night. The cold wind hit her face like an icy slap, urging her feet forward. The night was clear; the streets empty, except for the odd drunk stumbling towards the next pub. The only sound, echoing through the cold night, was the bass of nightclubs filling the air with a dull thumping in the distance.

As she strode home, Tamriel found herself wishing for a better job, for a more interesting life. Once she’d been happy, when her father was still around. He was the only person she’d ever felt understood her.

When she was a child, he’d always told her to love the person she was, to embrace the life she had. They had spent their days sparring; unlike most fathers who taught their children to read, he taught her to fight. She’d learnt everything she knew about self-defence and tracking from him. It was those years of knowledge that had led her to be the writer she was, hunting out a good story and knowing how to defend herself if the situation got nasty. But no one wanted her to do what she was truly good at; the sexist pig she had for a boss thought women should be interviewing old ladies and children, writing about gossip and fashion. Not hunting down rapists, helping the police solve murders and writing hard-hitting news. No, any leads she got hold of were instantly shifted over to one of her boss’s lackeys and she was shoved straight back to doing admin. She cursed herself for her lack of backbone and wished for the thousandth time that she had the balls to just up and leave. Lord only knew what was keeping her in this little town.

Turning the corner onto her road, Tam stopped, then whipped round, every sense screaming at her. She was being followed, she was sure of it. Her skin crawled with the feeling that eyes were on her, but who? Where? The streets were as empty as the sky itself; not a person or cloud in sight.

She crouched, inspecting the ground underneath the cars lining the road, scanned the surrounding ‘decorative’ trees, nothing.

Though the light of day had long gone, and the only illumination came from the dim, flickering street lights, Tam was certain there was nothing to be found; hell, her night vision was nigh-on perfect, and even when that failed her, her other senses were abnormally accurate. Sure, she was currently stamping along the pavement like a pissed- off child, but generally she kept herself silent; she could move fluidly through almost any environment without making a sound. Her hearing had always been so advanced she’d been called a freak because of it in her school days; though usually whispered from across the classroom, she’d always heard it. Heard it and hated it.

Feeling like a paranoid loon, she continued, listening intently for the sound of footsteps, watching for someone hidden in the darkness. Something was off. Way off.

The reporter in her wanted to search the area, stalk the streets until she found what was there; she loved tracking what little evidence there might be until she found the hidden story. Maybe that was it? Maybe she was so desperate for anything interesting to write about that she was inventing problems? Were the hairs on the back of her neck rising to tell her something was amiss, or was it actually just because it was a cold winter night? Was the tight ball curling its way through her gut instinct telling her to be aware of her surroundings? She had always trusted her instincts; they’d never led her astray before.

‘Get off me!’ The scream was piercing, deafening to Tamriel’s ears.

Without thinking, Tam broke into a sprint towards the sound echoing through the darkness. She had never been cautious, had always been prepared to jump head first into danger; her father had told her that would be her downfall. He’d always told her to take a step back to assess the situation first, but seriously? When someone is screaming up ahead, possibly hurt and in desperate need of help? How could you not run to help?

The safe route never led to anything interesting anyway.

Plus, it could lead to a damn good story. The reporter in her did a little happy dance at the thought of a possible front-page news situation. She ran through one street, then another, the screaming ricocheting through her eardrums: ‘Don’t touch me! Please! Please!’

Adrenaline surged even as a slither of fear shot through her, she pushed it away.

A well-trained reporter acted first, worried later. A good story never found you if you hid within the confines of normality.

‘Help me!’ The shrill sound continued to reverberate through the air.

‘No one’s coming to help you,’ came a deep grumble of response.

As Tam reached the alleyway where the noise seemed to be coming from, she slowed down. She inched along the wall, keeping out of sight, then crouched, listening intently for any sign that whoever it was had heard her coming. Nothing. Just silence.

It was as if the entire world was holding its breath just for a second and, in that moment, she could have sworn that even her own heart stopped beating.

‘Please…’ came a whisper from the alleyway.

The sound made Tam practically jump out of her skin. Fear rushed through her, overcoming her for just a moment.

STOP! she mentally shouted, getting a grip and pulling herself together.

A good reporter acts first and worries later.

Suddenly her nose twitched, the coppery stench of blood hitting her like a brick. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, sharpening her senses. Lord did that stuff stink!

Snapping back to reality, Tam reached into her T-shirt and pulled out the small flick knife she always wore clipped to the side of her bra. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Taking a deep, somewhat shuddery breath, she pushed any lingering fear back into the depths of her mind, to be released once this was over, and took one silent step forward.

She peered round the corner of the wall, looking down the alleyway. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness; the alley was empty, though from what she could see it led into a space behind the building she was standing in front of.

Slowly, quietly, she stepped into the small space.

Falling into a defensive crouch, she listened. Harsh breathing was all that met her ears, and the scent of blood was growing stronger by the second. She crept forward, ears tuned to the breathing coming from up ahead. Her footfalls made little noise as she carefully moved forward, thanking the gods that she was wearing her woolly boots today rather than heels.

Picking her way through the mess of bins and rubbish, she reached the end of the alleyway. Leaning against the wall, Tam braced herself, bringing the small knife up in front of her out of habit, careful not to let the slither of light coming from the dim street lamp hit it.

The art of surprise was her only other weapon here.

Tam peered around the edge of the wall; the darkness of the small space she was looking into seemed to seep around her, the shadows enveloping her body as that irritating stab of fear crept up her spine once more. She hastily shoved it away, watching the blackness intently. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the shadows move, only slightly, but it made her pulse accelerate nonetheless. The shadow morphed into a dark figure which flinched as if something had hit him. Its arm then flew out and slapped whatever was in front of him. The noise of the contact thundered through the streets, bouncing off the walls around her.

Tam felt rather than saw a girl fall to the floor, her limp body hitting the concrete with a crack. The man raised his arm again and this time something glinted in his palm, a knife. A big knife.

Tam didn’t allow herself time to think. She sprinted towards the man, towards the knife, roaring as she went. She lashed out with a foot, kicking him in the gut and sending him flying into the wall behind them as surprise rippled across his pale face, the knife clattering out of reach.

Spinning around, Tam positioned herself in a crouch over the fallen woman.

‘Don’t touch her,’ she hissed, bringing her own knife up and using her entire body as a shield.

‘What the HELL?!’ the man spat, swiping at the blood on his face. ‘Where the hell did you come from?’

Tam didn’t bother responding. Instead, she concentrated on his posture; he was bracing himself against the wall as he hefted his body off the floor, using his left leg to shift his weight rather than his right. He’d been hurt, but not enough.

Shaking himself off, the beast-like man lunged at her, faster than she’d expected. Tam barely had time to dart out of the way before he was in the space she’d been standing in. He ignored the unconscious girl and went for Tam instead, swinging out with his foot and only just missing her.

Getting with the programme, she sent her knife back at him, clipping his arm but not enough; it cut through his heavy black jacket but didn’t reach skin.

Suddenly he was on her again, lashing out, striking her with blow after blow; she barely had time to block what he was throwing at her, let alone try to fight back. He threw his fist at her, sweeping upwards towards her face. Tam leant backwards, but not fast enough. Her jaw cracked and her head snapped into the wall with a smack she felt right through to her core.

Out of pure instinct, her arm shot forward, clipping him in the gut with her knife. For a split second he groaned and curled over to protect his injured stomach.

A second was all she needed to find her feet and force her rattled brain into action. Tam sent her knee upwards, cracking the beast in the face and using the force of the impact to stamp her foot onto his.

The guy howled, but swung out with a fist. Tam caught his hand and pulled him forward, bringing his shoulders down far enough that she could grab at his head. Using the momentum to her benefit, she yanked him down by his ear; the bastard had no hair to grab onto!

She swung her arm into the air, bringing her elbow down on the back of his neck. The man went down like a sack of bricks, hitting the floor with a thud.

Catching her breath, Tam looked around, searching for any sign of life. Nothing.

Pulling herself together, she staggered over to the beast’s victim, who was sprawled out on the floor, unconscious. Moving the girl’s blonde waves out of the way, Tam checked for a pulse. It was there, slow but steady. The woman was breathing in short, sharp breaths, but at least she was alive.

She pulled out her phone and punched in 999.

The investigator in her wanted to be sure she had a good reason for staying with the blonde woman; she needed to make sure she could take a statement to back her story up if it went to print. The other half of her couldn’t believe that was the first thing that crossed her mind in a situation like this.

‘Emergency Services, please state your emerg—’ The voice was cut off as something grabbed at Tam, smashing her mobile on the floor, heavy hands pulling her up by her hair. Her scream was cut off by thick fingers clasping themselves around her throat as he shoved her against the wall, his brute strength lifting her off her feet so she was left dangling in mid-air, choking against his big palm. Crap. She couldn’t die today, she just couldn’t.

Tam cursed herself for not checking that the guy was down and out before she left him. Rookie. Her father would turn in his grave if he ever found out she’d forgotten one of the most important rules of self-defence; he sure as hell taught her better than that!

Forcing shallow gulps of air into her lungs, Tam tried to focus. As she tried to clear her blurry vision, her attacker’s bald head came into view, along with his black eyes. Horrific eyes that showed no trace of emotion at all.

His lifeless stare seemed to lock onto her, even though his scarred face showed no expression, no hatred, no anger, nothing whatsoever.

Suppressing a shudder and sucking in another harsh breath, Tam lashed out with her feet, kicking the guy in the knee. Even with terror rushing through her, she was determined to fight with all that she had. It was just blind luck that she managed to hit the leg that was injured. The brute gritted his teeth against the pain but otherwise didn’t react; his stare didn’t waver and he didn’t seem remotely fazed by what was happening to his body. And they called her a freak! What about this guy?

Drawing together all her reserves, Tam lashed out again at the same knee. There was a sickening crack. The guy toppled as his leg gave way, his grip loosening, but his eyes didn’t leave hers, not for a second. Even as he went down and his torso hit the floor, those black eyes stayed locked onto her. Assessing her, memorising her.

Tam went into a freefall, her body cascading downwards and hitting the floor with a thud. She didn’t even have time to catch her breath before a shooting pain sliced its way through her. Her body was suddenly engulfed with a roaring heat that seemed to seep out of her chest, melting her skin as it went. What the hell was going on?

Blinding pain swept through her again, quickly becoming all that she could feel, all that she was, and all that she knew until the blackness overtook her, claiming her.

Leyth hid in the shadows, pressed against the wall as he watched Tamriel Chambers leave the office. It was 9 p.m. by the time she’d switched off her computer and walked out. He watched her stride past him like she was on a mission, and slowly followed, keeping to the shadows as he went. He was practically invisible in the dark, especially given that he, like most of his race, had the ability to sink into the darkness, allowing the shadows to engulf him so completely that even the keenest eye couldn’t detect him. Not even a vampire would be able to spot him at night. But hell, the infection was coming on strong; it was growing every day now. Silently sprinting through the streets behind her, he kept to the walls, hidden in the darkest shadows of the night. Tam looked mighty angry, thundering along the path as she was, her brows drawn tight as she made her way back to the apartment. Her long black hair was streaming out behind her in the wind, head down as she focused on the pavement ahead.

She looked mighty fine in those skintight jeans she had on, her heavy woollen jumper billowing around her tiny waist. He’d been watching her for a few weeks now, just watching and waiting. Up until now, she’d had no idea he was near most of the time, and though she had no idea who he was, he knew her intimately. He knew everything about her, right down to how she liked her coffee.

Leyth had to stop himself from snorting. Christ, he sounded like a stalker. Hell, he basically was doing exactly that. Even so, as he watched her walk, her heavy jumper swaying with her hips, his memories of her tears, her sadness at night when she thought she was alone in her flat, hit him hard in the gut, sparking an instantaneous reaction. What the hell was that? Sympathy? No. Concern? Maybe.

Whatever it was, it was a first; he’d never given a damn about anyone before and, gut reaction or not, that was never going to change.

Nevertheless, in a strange, desperate moment of compassion, all he wanted to do was help her in some way; to comfort her perhaps. He actually reached out, his hand getting close enough to that silky black hair to stroke it. Before he knew what he was doing, she stopped him in his tracks as she whipped her head round, eyes searching the shadows with cold determination. Crap, he’d almost blown it.

He slowly slid his nearly invisible form back against the wall, deeper into the shadows, and held his breath as he watched her scan the area again.

Sure as hell, she knew someone was there, knew he was watching her. She crouched down and checked underneath the cars, behind the trees, and through the windows of surrounding houses before, slowly, jogging towards her building. Christ, that was close.

‘Get off me!’ Leyth’s keen hearing picked the sound with ease, though it was coming from almost a mile away. In a past life he might have gone to investigate; it was clearly a ‘damsel in distress’ and the alpha inside him bringing the other half of his soul roaring to the surface. But these days, that half was suppressed by the will of the council, constrained by duties and laws. Besides, he had other things to deal with.

Glancing at Tamriel, he noted that her pace had slowed almost to a stop and she was listening closely. As she broke into a sprint, he realised that she’d also heard the female in distress, and was going to her aid. Running flat-out to keep up with her, he followed her through the streets of Folkestone, baffled by how keen her senses were, marvelling at how accurately she followed her ears.

Finally, they reached a quiet road, off which there was an alleyway that led behind a large block of flats. The metallic scent of blood rode the air, stirring the beast at his core. Blood lust roared its way to the surface, making his mouth water. He thrust it back down, telling his instincts to put a muzzle on it. Now was not the time!

He watched as Tam crept through the alleyway, slowly reaching the walled entrance to the small square of space between the two buildings. She paused, again listening intently.

Crap, where did she get that knife from?

His confusion took a back seat as she launched herself from the space she was crouched in, landing a kick on the man who was stood in the shadows of the buildings surrounding them. The force of it sent him smashing into a wall, cracking his leg as he went; Leyth heard the bone fracture as it hit the brick. Glancing over at the guy, he noted the faint scent of death that prickled his nose. It was a tuhrned.

Cursing himself for not noticing the Circle’s minion, and his bad luck for the situation he’d landed in, Leyth shifted position, ready to kick the crap out of the zombiefied traitor but, as he did, Tamriel caught his attention.

Fragile as she seemed, she was a picture of strength, ready for combat. As the guy launched at her, she dodged his blows with grace, only getting hit a couple of times and, when the tide turned, she attacked with deadly precision, catching him in all the right places. She definitely had her father’s blood in her veins.

Finishing him off with an elbow to the back of the neck, the pale bastard fell to the floor in a heap. He wouldn’t stay that way though, tombs just didn’t stop; their corpse-like bodies could keep on going even after death.

Pulling himself back to reality, Leyth considered doing Tamriel a favour and cutting the tomb’s head off, but since she had handled things well so far, Leyth decided to leave her to it; to see if she could look after herself alone.

Best to stand back and see how this played out anyway. Maker only knew, he didn’t want her to find out he’d been following her. Yet.

Praying her senses were still on alert, he watched her pull out her phone and call someone; he stepped back as the tomb got to its feet. The bastard didn’t even give her time to breathe as it kicked the phone from her hand and slammed her against the wall, crushing her throat. It was going to kill her.

Moving swiftly forward, he was careful to stay in the shadows behind the tuhrned, keeping out of its line of sight, they would know he was there otherwise. He pulled on the bomber jacket the tomb was wearing, tugging it just hard enough for its grip to loosen, to give her a chance to grab at some air.

She lashed out with her foot, cracking the tomb twice in the knee until bone cracked and shattered, sending the thing down to the ground.

Leyth couldn’t help but grin; this female. She was as strong as her father had been; she was truly a picture of strength, through and through. And didn’t that just make it all the harder to do what he had to do?

Goddamn, he had to take her. He had no choice but to snatch her out of the life she’d made for herself and turn it upside down. He was going to ruin her world and there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

Then he felt his stomach drop as he watched Tamriel collapse to the floor in a heap. Pulling his bolo out of his leg sheath, Leyth didn’t cast a second glance at the tuhrned, just swung the knife and cut its head clean off.

As the tomb hit the dirt, Leyth touched the radio he wore clipped to his jacket.

‘I need a clean-up team in the alley behind the Marlowe flats on the Leas,’ he barked. ‘One dead tuhrned and one injured. Get here ASAP.’

‘Roger that, ETA two minutes.’ Carl’s gruff voice came back at him.

For once, Leyth was glad to hear that raspy American baritone.

‘Cool, I’ve got to shoot, my man. Got something to deal with.’ Leyth quickly checked the pulse of the blonde pup; slow but steady, she would be fine.

Hauling the now-unconscious Tamriel over his shoulder, he cursed. The heat bleeding out of her pores was burning his skin as it made contact with hers.

Leyth called to the other half of his soul, the power at his very core, which happily came roaring to the surface, filling his veins with adrenaline and making his heart race. He would need the speed of the wild to get her back to mansion’s clinic in time.

He raced back to his car, fear giving his feet wings, and sped the ten miles to the reserve in almost as many minutes. This female could not die on him.

Not now. Not ever.

Chapter Two

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Jesus Christ, what the hell was that noise? Tamriel flinched, dragging her hands up to cover her ears. Her skin felt raw, burnt almost, and her muscles screamed in protest. Her bones seemed to bend and creak in her skin as they moved. She gritted her teeth against the pain and tried to pull herself together. Argh, that beeping was deafening.

Trying desperately to get a sense of where she was, Tam strained her ears, picking past the harsh mechanical beep, reaching for the sounds that lay beneath it. She could hear the hum of air-conditioning though, Lord only, they must have it on low; she felt like she was on fire, the heat scalding her skin even now. There was a buzz of electricity in the corner, and the pitter-patter of fingers on a keypad; someone must be typing on a computer. Other than that, the room she was in was completely silent.

Tamriel inhaled deeply, trying to keep the movement of her chest expanding to a minimum; she didn’t feel scared and the room didn’t feel hostile but, hell, if she’d been kidnapped or something, she’d have to work out where she was or at least give herself a vague understanding of the situation she’d landed in before she alerted anyone to the fact that she was awake.

Picking through the scents of the room, she found she was in a sort of medical room, she had to be. It smelt sterile, the metallic twang of stainless steel hit her senses like a slap and the sharp aroma of antibacterial fluid wrapped around her, making her stifle a gag. Shoving the more pungent scents aside, she kept digging until she found what she was looking for. Men. There were two very male scents lingering in the air, one was very spicy, Moroccan almost? And the other… was just delicious, a chestnutty muskiness filled her olfactory senses, overwhelming her, easing her bruised and battered body, forcing her to relax.

Carefully opening an eyelid, she cursed internally as bright lights hit her. The damn things were blinding, making her wince. Her eyes felt sore and crusty, as if she’d been asleep for days. She breathed through the pain shooting through her body as her muscles tensed, and she braced herself for another shot at getting a visual on her location. Slowly, carefully, she cracked open an eyelid once more. The brightness scorched her retinas, but she forced herself through the pain of it; all she could see, however, was blinding whiteness, her blurry sight giving her nothing but erratic shapes that she couldn’t even attempt to decipher. Coughing, she cleared her throat, trying to talk to the people in the room was her last option; at the very least, she might be able to get them to tell her what had happened. Maybe she was in a hospital? And this caution was just her instinctive reaction?

‘H-ell-oo?’ she rasped through dry lips. Her throat felt like it had been torn to bits. Daaaammnn. Pain washed over her like a blanket of pins, heat ripping through her as surely as if she were on fire.

‘Shh. Careful now,’ came a deep, accented voice.

The man that smelt of spices got up from his seat in the corner and moved swiftly over to her, a movement she felt rather than saw.

‘Shh, try to drink,’ he said in soothing tones. Tam tried a pull at the straw that was pushed gently between her lips, but it was too much, her stomach groaned at the small offering, threatening to evict anything that was left in it.

With a moan that sounded pathetic even to her own ears, Tam tried to push the cup away. As the accented man retreated, a deep rumble filled the room, ricocheting across the walls. Was it a growl?

It was coming from the far corner of the room, the space that the delicious chesnutty scent was coming from. Though it hurt her ears, the sound was strangely comforting. She felt so vulnerable, so lost and confused, and whatever was making the slow, deep rumble was protecting her. She was sure of it.

As blinding heat washed over her in a steady wave, her muscles tensing and her bones feeling as if they were cracking under the pressure, she slowly welcomed the pain because with it came the sweet darkness, the unconsciousness that washed away the confusion and took away the pain. Blacking out, she felt herself smile. Though Lord only knew why.

‘Hey there. How are you feeling?’ Tam woke again several hours later to the sound of the deep, rumbling voice and heavy hands stroking her hair.

‘Wh—’ She tried to speak, but it came out hoarse.

‘Shh, drink,’ he whispered.

She wished people would stop telling her to ‘shh’, though she took a pull on the straw that came to her lips nonetheless. The cool liquid washed through her, making her feel better by the second.

‘I tried to contact your father but he’s MIA at the moment.’

‘Father’s dead,’ she croaked, confusion flooding her.

‘Never mind about that now. Try and get some sleep.’

Tam tried to open her eyes; she wanted to see where she was, to understand what was happening, but those awful bright lights made her wince. Snapping her lids shut, she cursed internally. Why couldn’t someone just turn them down?

The metallic, medical scent of the room washed over her, but this aroma was quickly chased away by the dark, chesnutty masculine scent of the man standing next to her. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her. He couldn’t be a doctor; that would be highly unprofessional if he was, but who else? She didn’t recognise his scent or his deep, rumbling voice.

She tried to sit up, but Christ did she ache. Her skin felt raw and exposed; she felt as though she’d been burnt alive, and she had to hold her breath against the pain. Her vision was shot to hell, it was so blurry she could barely make out the sight of her own palm, though she got the impression of a huge man with kind-looking eyes and black hair looming over her. As pain washed over her, making her giddy, lightheaded and more than a little sick, she clamped her lids back down, reaching for the darkness, the unconsciousness that could take away the pain and confusion.

She held onto the image of her dark-haired man, desperately clinging to his blurred, handsome features. She liked him, she decided. He was nice. Though that might just be the medicine they had her on talking. Crippling heat engulfed her, taking her into the blackness once more.

When Tamriel finally passed out for the second time, Leyth heaved a sigh of relief. She was in so much pain, writhing on the gurney, tears streaming down her face. Every time she cried out in pain it scared the hell out of him. The thought of her in pain was hard, the thought of her dying? God-awful. Those fears were brought on by the blatant knowledge that whatever happened to her was on him. It was his goddamn fault and he cursed himself for letting her fight the infection alone, unprepared and afraid. God he was such an idiot.

She was strong though, so damn strong. Even in the state she was in, being practically burnt alive by the fever, her body physically tearing itself apart, she was still battling with the pain, trying to find out what was happening to her, though he could clearly see she was in agony and, hell, did that make him respect the crap out of her.

‘I will look after you,’ he whispered, absently stroking her hair. The beautiful strands were damp with sweat; her whole body beaded with it. Her skin still felt like a furnace against his fingers. Though she was now lying limp and her breathing was steady, he knew the war her body was fighting; knew the pain and the stress it was going through.

He bent down to kiss her forehead as sympathy for what she was going through overwhelmed him, lingering slightly as his lips met her skin. Though the heat of her scalded his lips he couldn’t help but notice the rush of heat that roared through him as he touched her, the feel of her against him, the scent of her filling his nostrils; it forced a primal urge at the very core of him to come rushing to the surface without so much as a whisper of hesitation.

She was just… beautiful. Even in this state. Leyth barked out an abrupt curse, where the hell was this soppy crap coming from?

Sliding down to the cold, tiled floor, he leant against the gurney and wondered what on earth he was going to do.

‘What in the hell?’ Julian snapped as Leyth stormed his way into his office. He narrowed luminous blue eyes, his blonde hair was tied back in a long plait falling down his back, out of the way, and he was wearing his fighting gear. He was supposed to be out patrolling with the others tonight, but Sod’s law would have him home just as Leyth got back with Tamriel, unannounced and without permission.

‘Julian, I don’t have time for this.’ Leyth spat, marching towards the heavy desk that all but dominated the large room.

‘Hell yeah, you do!’ Julian growled, blocking Leyth with his huge, muscular figure. ‘I am your leader and my word goes. And it’s my house you’re marching into.’

Out of habit more than respect at this point, Leyth dipped his head down in a half bow to his leader. Unfortunately, Julian’s rule came before any other responsibilities, and being that this merry band of fighters was ruled by the Council, you were pretty buggered if you didn’t abide by its laws.

‘Sorry, she’s going through her fever early. She’s not ready yet. I needed to get her to Doc.’

‘Who is she?’ Julian demanded.

‘She’s John’s kid.’

‘Shit.’ Julian ducked his head down, rubbing a hand across his eyes. ‘How is she?’

‘Not good. The infection is still strong, it could kill her.’

‘She’s a strong female, Leyth; she’s John’s blood. She will be fine.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Christ, you need to shower,’ Julian exclaimed as Leyth came to sit in the leather chair opposite his leader. ‘And eat, you look like hell.’

‘Yeah, maybe when she’s come through the other side.’

‘No, man, you need to do it like, now. Go and get some sleep, Leyth. That’s an order. Doc’s there to look after her.’

Leyth threw him a look; there was absolutely no way he was leaving that female in the hands of another male. Not to eat, not to sleep. This five minutes away from her was pretty much all he could take, and even now he was twitching with the need to go back to her… and do what? What was this desperate fury at the thought of leaving her about?

Hell, he just had a job to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

He needed to remember that.

‘Goddamn it, Leyth,’ Julian snapped, rubbing his eyes. ‘If you’re really intent on killing yourself, then at least have a shower. There’s one in the medical room she’s in so you can still keep an eye on her.’

‘Fine.’

‘Fine.’

Well, this situation had just gotten mighty awkward.

‘What are you going to do with her once the infection is gone?’

‘I have no idea. I honestly don’t know.’

‘Well, can I build her a house on the reserve? And she can stay in a guest room in the meantime.’ Julian started to talk.

‘No,’ Leyth cut him off. ‘We can’t register her with the Council—’

‘Leyth, you know I have to register everyone who goes through the fever that we find or oversee. It’s Council law.’

‘Julian, you know what they’ll do to her.’

‘Well, I can make it bearable, and she can stay with us.’

‘What, and make her feel like an outcast like Sarah? Or better yet, turn her into a slave?’

‘Well, no—’ Julian cursed, long and hard. ‘What do you suggest then?’

‘I really don’t know, I think we need to take her back to her own home so she can live out her life in the normal world, the less the Council know of her the better.’

There was a long pause. ‘OK, so be it. Let me know when you’re sending her home.’

‘Sure thing. Hey, did Alison get to your parents OK?’

‘I guess so, I’ve not had any “where is she?” calls, so I figure she has to be there.’ Julian laughed. ‘Are you going back in the field when Tamriel’s through the change?’

‘Yeah, I guess so.’ Leyth sighed. The thought of life without her seemed so empty.

‘Good, Carl needs to talk to you about that last clean-up you called in.’

‘Can I talk to him about it when I’ve had more sleep?’ Leyth grumbled, he didn’t need any more on his plate right now. He’d killed the tuhrned, and that’s what mattered right?

Julian’s phone chose that moment to ring, and Leyth was grateful for the distraction.

‘Yup, what? Crap, Yeah, I’ll tell him.’ Julian barked, slamming the phone down.

‘Tamriel’s fever is in full swing, you need to go and help Doc.’

Leyth didn’t even spare a second glance at his leader, just hightailed it out of the office and through the body of the mansion to the clinic.

Hammering his way through the door, he skidded to a halt by Tamriel’s bed.

She was writhing around on the gurney, heaving in huge gulps of air, her face was slick with tears and the whimpers that escaped her every now and again were enough to break his damn heart.

This was the hardest part of the fever; the infection was going to take over. He knew you just had to let it take over and hope for the best, but Tamriel had no idea what was happening to her and there was a strong chance that she would reject it and make her body fight against it rather than accept it. And it honestly could kill her.

Tamriel let out an almighty scream as her bones started to splinter and break, her skin stretching as every limb shattered. Leyth braced himself for the infection to spread, for her body to stop fighting and start healing… but it wasn’t happening, she wasn’t healing properly. Just breaking and staying broken.

‘Change, Tamriel, I need you to change,’ he whispered, stroking her hair, as Doc bustled past him, checking her vitals and injecting her with painkillers.

She let out an almighty groan and he could only stare as her beautiful black hair slowly began to change colour. The silky dark strands slowly became streaked with red, the colour washing its way down from root to tip until what was left was a myriad of ruby highlights shimmering through the black strands.

For hours, Leyth held her and willed her to get better, to heal from the infection, but her body wasn’t cooperating.

‘Please change, Tamriel, I need you to change, I—’ Tears? Holy shit! His own tears ran down his face as he soothed her, lightly kissing her forehead. ‘I will not let you die. Please change.’

It was dark, the moon called out to her like a lost lover as it started to sink beneath the horizon. The wind whistled past her naked body, making her nipples harden and her heart ache right to the core. The chill running up her spine, however, had nothing to do with the cold night air. She was supposed to find something. Someone? But who? Taking a deep breath, Tamriel took in the scent of the forest around her; it smelt as her father had. Musky wood, fallen autumn leaves.

The damp smell of dew was intoxicating. She could smell rabbits and birds. Listening, she heard the crunch of dead leaves on the floor under tiny feet. Opening her eyes, the world looked different; the woodland seemed to glow under the moonlight, the trees were shining, energy rippling through their spindly branches and roaring out from the remaining leaves at their tips. She drank it all in in great gulps. She felt starved, she needed this, this freedom. It was home.

Something moved in the distance, a mouse? It hadn’t seen her yet and though it was far enough away for it to be unnoticeable, she saw it. She could see each hair on its back, each whisker. Without thinking, she ran silently through the forest towards the mouse. Why? She had no idea. She loved the feel of the wind ripping past her naked body, loved the sounds of the woodland as it surrounded her. As she reached the mouse, she leapt into the air, her body flying higher and further than was naturally possible, but she knew she’d make it; for some reason she was more than aware of what her body was capable of. Coming down fast and hard, she landed with a foot either side of the tiny animal, scooping it into her hands in one fell swoop. The mouse jumped and squeaked, but seemed to gather itself together quickly, looking up at her with big, black eyes. It knew she wouldn’t hurt it; she was only playing after all.

Together, she and the mouse took off once more, running through the forest as far and as fast as her feet would carry her, trees blurring as she passed them by. She knew where she was going; she knew these trees, this woodland. She’d dreamt of this place as a child, every time she went to bed she’d played in this forest, climbed every tree, run through every meadow surrounding it.

Finally, the trees started to lessen, giving way to a large lake.

Without hesitation, she plopped the mouse down on the ground and dived in. The water swirled around her, caressing her body like a hesitant friend, welcoming her home. Coming up for air, she splashed her way back to the surface, marvelling at how the water seemed to sparkle under the moon. Pulling herself up next to the mouse, she lay there, lost in her thoughts, lost in her own personal wilderness, her wonderland. It called to her tonight in a way it never had before. She was utterly at ease.

Finally, after an age, the sun started to rise, and as the first of its rays hit the water, something on the opposite side of the lake caught her eye. Wolf.

She was beautiful; black fur ran down her spine, blending gracefully into the red fur underneath. The wolf and Tamriel stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before, finally, she started trotting around the edge of the lake towards her. Tam returned the gesture, breaking into a jog. The jog became a flat-out run; this was what she was looking for, this beautiful pup was what she’d needed to find. As urgency heated her blood, she quickened her pace, as did the wolf… They ran as fast as they could and, as they rounded the edge of the lake towards one another, neither of them slowed. They came together with a thud; soft fur colliding with her soft, fragile skin. They collapsed into a heap on the floor, entwined; body and soul, wolf and woman together as one. ‘Change. Tamriel, you need to change,’ a voice echoed through the forest. The voice was one she knew, didn’t it belong to the man with the black hair?

‘Please, Tamriel. I can’t lose you. You need to change.’ What was he talking about? What change? Her wolf howled loud and clear, tears running through its fur, or were they her tears?

Blinding pain shot through her, overwhelming her. Then the heat took her over, burning her from the inside out; she fell to her knees, her hands hitting the dirt, just keeping her from toppling head first into the lake. Her wolf was crouched between her arms, staring into the lake as she was, their reflections blurring together as the pain hit once again…

‘Change, Tamriel. Just let go, let the change happen.’

Her bones started to crack, her skin tore apart, her wolf was howling, she was drawing in harsh, ragged breaths. She clutched the thing to her as if it were her life and braced herself against the pain. All at once the woodland screamed, or was that her? As the darkness claimed her once more, she welcomed it.

Chapter Three

That was a weird dream, Tamriel thought as she woke with a grin on her face. She stretched out in her bed, wishing she didn’t have to get up. Glancing at her alarm clock, she was surprised it was only 6 a.m.; usually she overslept and had to rush to work, yet she felt like she’d had the best night’s sleep of her life. Still, her limbs ached and her muscles seemed to protest at the slightest of movements, but she put that down to sleeping in an awkward position. Rolling out of the duvet, she wandered across to the bathroom and turned the shower on.

Wrinkling her nose, Tam scowled. Her bathroom stank of bleach; it was like someone had soaked the entire room in the stuff!

Christ, it was as if she could smell every single chemical she’d ever used to clean the place. She’d always had a better than average sense of smell, but this was excessive!

Holding her nose, she wandered into the living room/kitchen area. Had her flat always been this dusty? She’d never noticed quite how much dust covered the place but, hell, how did she miss it?

It was as if her senses had heightened, somehow becoming much stronger than they were before. And that was saying something! Her vision was now so incredibly accurate that, even in the dim morning light, she could clearly see every fibre in the ugly grey carpet.

Someone in the flat beneath hers slammed a door, making her wince. The noise seemed deafening.

What on earth had happened to her senses? Why where they so sensitive?

Shrugging off her confusion and putting the coffee on, she wandered back into the bathroom and stepped under the shower spray with a sharp in-breath as the water hit her skin; it truly felt as though someone had scalded her back. She was so ridiculously sore. Gritting her teeth, she scrubbed some shampoo into her hair, and even that stank, the ‘strawberry’ scent smelt more like chemicals. It had been her favourite shampoo for years, why did it now seem to smell awful? She rubbed the stuff in and washed it out as quickly as she could, using her plain soap bar to wash her skin rather than the scented body wash.

When she’d finally finished, she brushed her teeth and walked naked into her living room, she’d never been one to shy away from being exposed. In fact, she relished the freedom of nudity; after all, it was only natural.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Tam opened her fridge door. No food. Damn, living alone could be irritating. Her stomach rumbled as she closed the door. God, she felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. She stalked over to her landline and quickly dialled the cafe down the road from her. She was good friends with the owner, and she knew he’d get someone to run some food up to her apartment. Thankfully, they were always open for the morning rush of people heading to London, so they would be able to feed her at this ungodly hour. She ordered her usual: a bacon, sausage and egg roll, and added a bagel and a bacon and cheese pastry to the order for good measure. She was so hungry, even that didn’t seem enough.

While she waited for her food, Tam slipped into the bedroom and pulled some jeans and a T-shirt on. Naked was natural, comfortable, but the bacon guy would probably have a fit if she answered the door in the nude. She pulled her favourite jumper on over the top and drew a sharp breath in as it rasped against her skin. Why on earth was she so damn sore?

It didn’t take long for her order to arrive; the delicious bag of greasy, baked goodness smelt amazing, the scent seeping into her very pores. The delivery guy nodded at her as he accepted the cash she’d pulled out of her emergency money jar and told her that her hair was looking ‘mighty sexy’, which was weird as the kid had never complimented her before. She grinned as she walked back into her kitchen. Perhaps today was going to be a good day.

Tamriel slid her laptop from beneath the sofa cushions, where she always kept it. If someone was going to break into her apartment, it’s the last place they would think to look, she always thought.

As she chewed on her roll, she opened the computer and pulled up her files for the latest story she’d been working on. With a grimace, she scanned the first few lines of her report and rolled her eyes. A baker had made ‘Folkestone’s biggest loaf of bread’. Yay! How exciting!

She snorted. How was she ever going to make it to hard-hitting journalist from junior reporter with god-awful stories like these?

Absently chewing the bacon and cheese pastry, she clicked open her personal stories. Ninja granny beats gun-wielding burglar with her husband’s golf club. Much more interesting, and a story that only she had at the moment. She was in the area when it happened, and managed to get in there and get as much as she could from the woman before the police arrived to take her statement. They told the woman not to talk to the press, but the feisty old lady was still reeling from beating the crap out of the intruder. She wasn’t the terrified old woman you’d expect, but a kung fu granny who was champing at the bit to wallop him another one.

Tam frowned as she reached into the scrumptious bag of goodies, only to discover she had eaten everything already; the roll, the pastries, all gone. And it hadn’t even touched the sides. Her stomach growled at her, but she shrugged. There was no more food in the house, so it would have to wait.

Her computer pinged, notifying her that she had fifteen new emails from the office. That was a bit excessive, and not something she wanted to deal with now. It was still before seven, she would think about work after nine.

Tam picked up the newspaper from the mail slot on the door to her flat and tucked it under her arm as she poured herself another coffee, and checked the fridge and cupboards again just in case. Still nothing. Damn.

Folding herself down onto a chair at the breakfast bar, she chewed on her lip for a moment. Her mother was coming over for dinner this weekend… Or was it next weekend? She’d have to check. The fridge would need filling up before then. With a sigh, she checked the front page of the paper.

Oh hell.

‘Hardcore eighty year old beats burglar with a golf club,’ read the front page. Tam cursed long and hard. It had only happened a few days ago and the police weren’t releasing it to the press yet. She had been waiting for it like a dog with a bone since she’d come across the lady and her out-of-this-world pummelling skills, and now someone else had scooped it up before she’d even had the chance? Goddamn.

Tam frowned and sipped her coffee, flicking through the rest of the paper; nothing of any interest. The only good story in Folkestone for weeks and she’d missed out on it!

With a sigh, she told herself to call an end to the pity party. She would need to start getting ready for work soon but, for the moment, she was just enjoying sitting in her kitchen, doing nothing of any great importance. Drinking coffee, with long-life milk because the fresh milk was stale. She considered reading a book; there was a new one she’d been meaning to sink her teeth into for ages, but hadn’t had the time. Maybe now was a good time to start. Yet as she ran a hand through her wet hair, she realised she’d need to blow-dry it and get her crap together for work before she could truly relax into a good book, otherwise she’d lose track of time and have to rush.

Tamriel gave the novel in question, currently sitting looking lonely on her coffee table, a long, wistful glance, and strode over to the recycling box to shove the paper into it. As she bent down, something in her mailbox caught her eye. Another newspaper. With a grunt of confusion, she lifted the lid on the thing and tugged it out, along with several others. Why did she have so many newspapers in her box? She was only supposed to get one a day for Christ’s sake!

Glancing at the date on the first one she frowned, October 6th. The next, October 7th. What on earth? Frantically grabbing the paper she had been reading out of the recycling box, she read the date. October 10th? What now? Last time she’d checked, it had only been the 5th!

How in the hell did she lose five days? No wonder she’d lost the story; that was a full working week she’d just… Forgotten? What on god’s earth was happening?

Memories of a medical clinic flooded back to her, broken memories. A man with a deep voice.

As a headache came on hard and fast, she pushed the memories away, taking a deep breath.

Crap. She’d missed an entire week of work! Grabbing at her coat, she searched frantically for her mobile. Where was the damn thing?

The zombie smashed it, her inner voice said. No, she thought, that was crazy. Zombies?

That kind of thing was all fiction, wasn’t it? She must be going mad.

Giving up on the mobile search, she grabbed her house phone and dialled work, gritting her teeth as the hold music kicked in.

‘Hello, Kent News. Jennifer speaking.’

‘Hey, it’s Tam. Is—’

‘Tammy! Oh my god! Are you OK? Are you feeling better now?’

‘What? Yeah, I’m good. What do you mean, better?’

‘Tam, you phoned in last week and said you were feeling really rough and wouldn’t be in for a few days. We’ve all been worried about you!’

‘Oh, I did? I must have forgotten. Yeah, I’m much better, thanks. I’ll be in later on today. Thanks, Jen. Bye!’

What the hell? Maybe she’d been so sick she’d just forgotten the last few days? Can that even happen? It would explain why she ached so much though.

Storming into the bedroom she had another quick search for her phone but to no avail, and decided to start getting dressed. Surely putting some make-up on and some nice clothes would make her feel better. Grabbing her make-up bag, she sat at her dressing table and… Holy crap, what had happened to her hair?

The formerly black, silky strands were now streaked with red, highlighted with the stuff. What the—? Had she been to the hairdressers? No, she never dyed her hair, not ever!

Yanking a brush through the long waves, she smoothed it out and leant in, checking her roots. What on earth was going on here? She felt like tearing her hair out, screaming, slamming doors, throwing the contents of her tiny flat around. She was just so frustrated with the many questions running through her mind that she just couldn’t answer, she felt as though she was on the brink of bursting into tears. Giving up on the make-up front, she looked around for her handbag. Work. She needed to work. Get back to something normal. It might be dull. She might hate the place. But at least it was normal.

Leyth watched Tamriel through her flat window. She was up and looking pretty healthy. That was good, right?

He should leave. She would be fine now.

But he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from the window.

When she’d come out of the shower naked, he’d practically had a heart attack, dipping his eyes to give her some privacy. He’d figured she’d go and put some clothes on but no, she had stalked straight into the living room and poured a coffee, butt-naked.

He had to respect a female who was so comfortable in her own skin. And when she’d ordered herself a meal fit for several kings, and proceeded to wolf the entire lot down, he just stared at her in awe. A female that could pig out with the best of them? He never thought he’d see the day!

Shaking himself, he tried desperately to pull himself away, but he just couldn’t leave her.

‘Hey, it’s Tam.’ He heard her voice.

Damn, he’d forgotten that he’d asked Sapphire to call in to her workplace and pretend to be her phoning in sick. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was get her fired!

Tamriel had got through the fever well, her body had handled it and she’d slept like a baby for two days afterwards.

Leyth, on the other hand, felt like death. He hadn’t allowed himself to sleep all the time she was suffering, and when it was finally over he’d carried her to her bed and sat in the corner of the room, just watching. He could really use some shut-eye. But the storm wasn’t over yet…

Snapping back to reality, he found her gasping at herself in the mirror. Her hair looked beautiful. Halfway through the fever it had started to change colour; bright streaks of red running its way through the silky black strands. Generally when females or males went through the fever they took on the colours they were born into, but red? He’d never seen anything like it. It was such a beautiful colour. Staring at Tam, Leyth reached out and touched the cold glass. What he wouldn’t give to be able to stroke those silky strands once more.

A wave of exhaustion hit him. He’d been awake for five days now, and he barely had the strength to stand up, let alone consider talking to Tam and trying to explain away the last few days.

More than that, he wanted to keep details of her heritage to a minimum. If she didn’t go through the fever again, he wanted her to live a normal life, not constantly wonder about what could have been.

The bone-shattering tiredness hit him again, making him wobble on the windowsill he was perched on. He tried to wrap the darkness tighter around himself, trying to stay relatively invisible in the early morning sun, but the energy it took to keep himself hidden sent him over the edge; his muscles failed him and he lost his grip on the windowsill. In that brief moment of weightlessness he tried desperately to shift in mid-air, to turn and land on his feet. No such luck, he passed out before he even hit the floor.

Tamriel heard the whimper loud and clear and snapped her head round in the direction of the noise. She practically jumped out of her skin! There was a huge man with shaggy dark hair crouched on the ledge of her window. Hell, he barely squeezed into the tiny gap; his broad shoulders pressed against the edge of her window, a black bomber jacket dominating the small space. His heavy boots were perched on the little flower basket she had hanging from the windowsill, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he hadn’t broken it. How the hell did he manage to climb two storeys up to her window? And how had he managed to squeeze himself onto such a small window ledge?

Why hadn’t she noticed him before? And what was he doing, watching her?

As hundreds of unanswered questions assaulted her mind and she locked eyes with the man, she recognised him instantly; not that she could understand why or where from, she just knew him.

Working for a newspaper wasn’t necessarily a good thing; she’d researched stories on criminals, abusive men, rapists – the works. He could easily be one of the people she’d written about, maybe she recognised him from his picture? Crap.

Her thoughts were cut off instantly as the man reached out to her. He looked so tired. So lost. As he lost his balance and fell, she cursed, ran out the flat door, down the two flights of stairs and burst out of the entrance. She wasn’t fast enough though. She rounded the corner as he hit the floor. Hard. It was something she felt right through to her bones, rather than actually saw. The crack that rang out was loud enough to shake walls. Running to where he’d fallen, she skidded to an abrupt halt.

He was nowhere to be seen. Instead, on the grass in his place was a big black and grey wolf. Shoving the brief prickle of fear that rose up her spine away, she walked over to the animal. As she reached it, she bent down and slowly reached a hand out; smooth soft fur met her fingertips.

The wolf was out cold but breathing steadily, its chest rising and falling like the tide. By the looks of it, the animal had broken its back leg; the limb was bent at an awkward angle. There was a lot of blood on the floor which appeared to be coming from a large cut on the wolf’s side. Tam scanned the area for the fallen man. Sympathy overwhelmed her as she jogged back to where the wolf had been, though as she reached the grassed area she wasn’t entirely surprised to find the space empty. The wolf had gone. Vanished. All that was left in its place was some sorry-looking, flattened grass and a smudge of blood.

Tam gazed around to the surrounding area. He had to be here somewhere. He couldn’t have gotten far with a broken leg. Stalking over to the pathway, she checked left, then right. Town was to the right; the hills were to the left. Her gut told her to head towards the hills. She broke into a jog and, hammering the pavement, she quickly made her way towards the far end of Folkestone, marvelling at how fast she was going. Yeah, she jogged sometimes, and yes, she’d raced at school, but Christ, she was keeping up with the few cars that were out at this time of the morning.

Then she pushed the thought away and continued on towards the hills. She couldn’t see the wolf anywhere, but she knew she was going in the right direction. How? She had no idea, but over the years she’d learnt to trust her intuition, her instincts. They had never led her astray before and she was certain that now would be no different.

Tam rounded the corner. She could see the roundabout at the top of the road, and knew that just beyond that was her destination. Folkestone’s rolling hills fanned out in front of her, the early morning sun peeking through the tops of them. She kept her pace up, dashing across the roundabout, and leaping over the fence separating the road and the field at the bottom of the hills in one movement. Crap. It definitely wasn’t natural to be able to jump that high and that far, was it? What on earth was happening to her?

Right now, she didn’t care. She needed to find that wolf. She had absolutely no idea why she was chasing down an animal that would, in all likelihood, maul her, maybe even kill her but, hey, it would make front-page news if she managed to survive to find out why there was a wolf in Folkestone. What a killer story! It might even make her career as a reporter. Maybe enough to make her a full-time journalist, rather than just a junior.

The cold winter air brushed past her as she listened intently, but the only sounds to be heard were the distant rumble of car engines on the motorway just across from where she knelt. Inhaling deeply, Tam was amazed at the different scents she picked up on, grass and moisture were the first that she noticed, but picking past these, she could smell mice, rabbit… wolf. The scent was particularly musky, almost manly, in a strange way.

Allowing her eyes to follow her nose, she scanned the bottom of the hills in the direction the scent seemed to trail into, as her inner predator came roaring to the surface, heat soaring from her very core, warming her flesh from the inside out. It was almost as if there was a beast that lived deep inside her, a beast that was just begging to be let out. Because you’re more than human the voice inside her pointed out, the very thing she’d feared for years. She’d suspected that she was different all her life, but she’d never wanted to believe it. Why now? Why were her age-old fears coming to the forefront of her mind?

Because your senses are getting stronger, the other half of you is getting stronger. Just as she was telling her brain to get a grip, her eyes skimmed over something that made her heart skip a beat, the very tip of a black and grey tail disappearing into the wooded area that surrounded the base of one of the many hills.

How she had managed to spot that from this great distance, she had absolutely no idea, and honestly? She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. Instead, Tam forced her feet forwards, breaking into a flat-out run towards the small woodland. She ran lightly across the lumpy grass, finding her footing easily, not tripping or wavering. She was built for woodland, for nature, for this. Her heart told her that this was home, this natural place of beauty. Not the urban environment she’d chosen to live in.

It took only seconds for her to reach the edge of the woods and, without thinking, she dove straight into the thick of it, launching herself into the surrounding trees, coming to an abrupt halt as she let her eyes adjust. She could barely hold in a gasp as she found herself staring straight into the grey eyes of the biggest, most beautiful wolf she’d ever set eyes upon.

He was hunched against a tree, a deep, rippling growl reverberating out of his chest, the defensive sound thrashing against her eardrums, causing fear to rise up her spine. Oddly though, she found the sound strangely comforting. She’d heard it before, but lord only knew where.

For a few seconds, the two of them just stood there, staring at each other, assessing the situation. With her heart in her throat, Tam drew in a shaky breath. What now? She’d chased this wolf into the woodland, not really knowing why or what she was going to do when she found him.

And now she was almost nose-to-nose with a goddamn wild animal, she had absolutely no idea how to react.

She was so stupid. The wolf was injured which, in theory, would give her an advantage if he tried to attack her, but you didn’t have to be an animal behaviour specialist to know that dangerous wild animals like this wolf were even more dangerous when they were injured and felt trapped or threatened.

She could almost see the headlines now: ‘Local woman mauled by wolf’; ‘Local reporter killed after chasing a wolf into the woods alone.’ What an idiot she was.

Out of options and ideas, Tam slowly held her hands out in front of her, doing her best to show the wolf that she meant him no harm.

He didn’t move, didn’t react, just kept his beautiful eyes locked onto hers.

‘Shh, good wolf…’ she whispered, not really knowing what else to do.

The wolf huffed, glancing at her before quickly spinning awkwardly on his back legs and hightailing it deeper into the woodland.

Tam launched herself forward after him. Trees sped past her as she struggled to keep up with him, damn he was fast, even with what she thought was a broken leg!

He twisted and turned, changing direction every now and again, creeping underneath bushes and going through streams. He was obviously trying to lose her, but she would be damned if she was going to let him get away from her! Breaking free of the trees, he climbed up the side of one of the hills; she followed him, gasping for breath as she hefted her way up the thing.

She stopped in her tracks as he paused at the top of the hill looking back down at her. For a moment, a fleeting feeling of recognition slipped through her, though lord only knew why; she’d never seen a wolf up close and personal before.

But he’s not just a wolf. Tam pushed her mind’s voice away. This was not the time for her ‘craziness’, as her school friends had put it, to be resurfacing. Her strange obsession with the supernatural had brought her nothing but grief in the past.

A heartbeat later, he was off again, bolting down the other side of the hill. Tam didn’t pause, just got her feet moving again, detouring around the edge of the hill rather than struggling up and over. As she reached the other side, she caught a glimpse of his beautiful tail disappearing into some bushes.

She didn’t hesitate, just dived in after him, catching her T-shirt on the branches and ripping the thin material. Her hands grazed against the rock and dirt beneath, and her kneecaps hit the ground with a thud, jarring her legs, but she didn’t stop. She crawled underneath the bush, bursting out on the other side just in time to see the wolf attempt to leap over a fallen tree.

He didn’t make it though. As he began to jump, his front paws left the ground but his back legs gave out on him, the wounded one collapsing under his weight and sending him awkwardly spiralling towards the floor.

Tam didn’t move, didn’t breathe. She couldn’t. She just watched as the wolf awkwardly righted himself, but stayed crouched on the ground, whimpering slightly as he tried to move his leg but couldn’t.

Slowly, carefully, Tam moved. Only an inch as she lowered herself to the ground and, in one painstaking movement, she knelt before the wolf.

Her knife was clipped to the side of her bra and her hands itched to reach for it, but she knew it was a bad idea. Currently the wolf was showing no signs of aggression and she didn’t want to spook him again.

As she looked into those beautiful grey eyes, she saw no anger, no malice. She saw fatigue, pain and confusion. She could read the emotions behind them like a book.

As she watched him, it seemed as though he was being as careful as she to move carefully. It was almost as if it were he who didn’t want to spook her rather than the other way around. He lowered his back end to the ground, shuffling a little awkwardly around his back leg. He then proceeded to lie down completely, resting his head on his paws, keeping his eyes still locked onto hers. It was as if he’d visibly given up.

Tam slowly edged forward. She must be absolutely crazy, knowing this was a vicious wild animal and that it could tear her apart easily. Yet her gut told her the wolf wasn’t going to hurt her.

She must be going mad. She was going to end up being that weird woman that was nearly killed by a wild wolf because she thought she could be friends with it.

And yet, this moment, this intense, terrifying, incredibly special moment, was one she would treasure for the rest of her life; one she would write about and talk of over and over again to friends, family and, maybe, one day her children.

The day mommy made friends with a wolf.

Holding her breath, her heart beating so rapidly she felt as though it was going to jump out of her chest, Tam slowly lifted her trembling hand, watching the wolf intently. If the wolf so much as flinched, she was going to hightail it out of there. Carefully, she extended her arm. The damn limb shook so much she was sure it was going to vibrate right out of its socket.

Reaching a little further, she gingerly let the very tips of her fingers brush the fur on his beautiful black and grey face.

And he was oh so beautiful. From the tips of his ears, down his spine and through to the tip of his tail was black fur which blended gracefully into the grey fur that ran down his sides and across his face, running into the white fur that covered his underside and jaw. He was absolutely huge.

Tam had always imagined wolves to be roughly the size of a large dog, but this wolf was practically as big as a full-grown man. Maybe even bigger. He was absolutely stunning; beautiful but deadly.

Slowly, carefully, she let her hand dip a little lower until her fingers were running through his soft fur; it felt like velvet underneath her fingertips. She inhaled deeply, his dark, almost chesnutty scent filled her nostrils; a scent she recognised. Tam knew she had smelt this musky aroma before; it was so oddly familiar.

Broken memories flooded her, but disappeared as quickly as they came; she hadn’t a hope in hell of trying to decipher them. In that moment, any fear washed away, to be replaced with the absolute certainty that this wolf wouldn’t hurt her; he was nothing to be afraid of and, if anything, he would undoubtedly protect her.

Christ alive, she must be going crazy, this was a wild animal, not something to feel relaxed around, let alone safe with!

Yet, even as fear prickled her spine, and images of what could happen to her flickered through her imagination, the wolf made her feel safe. He gently leant into her touch, allowing her to stroke the side of his head. He turned his muzzle slowly towards her, resting his chin briefly on her open hand before licking her palm and moving back to rest his head on her.

Tam watched him almost in a daze, she had no idea how long the two of them sat there for, staring at each other. It was the most intensely surreal moment of her life. Her heart was thudding so sporadically, so harshly, she was almost sure the damn thing was going to break through her ribcage. The certainty that this wolf wasn’t going to hurt her, wasn’t going to attack her, did little to calm the instinctual fear riding her gut, but she would be damned if she was going to let that ruin this moment. The wolf moved his head, only an inch, yet even so, she flinched at the motion; she couldn’t help it. As if the wolf knew she was feeling particularly jumpy, he moved slowly; steady movements that seemed so gentle. It was almost as if he was doing everything he could to not spook her, to make sure she didn’t fear him.

Any lingering fear she may have had was hastily stripped away as the wolf moved forward, positioned himself so he was lying directly in front of her, pawing at her feet, a motion that almost looked like he was making sure he had her attention. Looking up at her, his eyes could only be described as regretful as he let rip a howl that could crack windows. She watched in disbelief, terror freezing her to the ground, as the wolf’s arms and legs started to bow and distort, his entire body beginning to move and writhe. It looked for all the world like his body was breaking down and rebuilding itself. His face started collapsing in on itself, jaw cracking, tail shortening until it was no more, the beautiful black and grey fur that covered him in rippling waves disappearing into his skin until, finally, it was over.

It took only seconds until what was left…

…was a naked man lying on the cold forest floor.

His eyes had stayed locked on hers the whole time.

‘Tamriel,’ he choked out. ‘I’m so sorry…’

He carefully reached a hand out towards her, gingerly brushing a finger across her arm. She wanted to run, to shove his touch away, but she didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. She couldn’t do anything but stare at the man before her.

‘Wha…?’ She cleared her throat. ‘You…you were the wolf…’

Chapter Four

Leyth lay on the floor of the woodland, naked as the day he was born. The twigs and dead leaves beneath him dug into his now very human skin, but that was nothing in comparison to the fear Tamriel was clearly experiencing. Hell, he hadn’t known what to do. Try as he might, he just couldn’t outrun her. She was too goddamn stubborn for her own good, and would not give up the chase. Eventually he’d seen no other way out, so he’d shifted back into human form.

He watched her carefully, his hand brushing her arm ever so lightly. Her wide green eyes tracked his every movement, her mouth hanging open.

‘What the hell?’ she struggled out, wild eyes darting from him to the surrounding trees. She almost looked as if she expected someone to jump out from the woodland and shout ‘April fools!’

‘Tamriel, I’m so sorry,’ he repeated, struggling for words. What the hell could he tell her? There was no other explanation for what she’d just witnessed, for what he was, other than the truth. ‘I’m a werewolf.’

She openly gaped at him, and it broke his damn heart. That moment they’d just shared, when she believed him to be just a wolf, was so special; it was an emotionally raw moment where he’d put all his trust in her and she in him. And that was something he’d never done before; as wolf or human, he’d never trusted a female enough to get close to her.

Now she had to trust him; she had to believe the words he had to tell her or it could kill her. But forcing them out of his mouth was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. This was going to destroy her life and everything she knew about herself. It could ruin her.

‘Tamriel, I’m a werewolf.’ He hurt for her as he said the words. ‘And so are you.’

For the longest of moments she just stood there, staring. It looked for all the world like she was processing everything that had just happened. Analysing it, trying to make sense of it.

Leyth drew in a breath, waiting. Waiting.

Tamriel spun on her heel and ran. Christ she was fast.

Leyth didn’t wait; a heartbeat later he was hightailing it after her, the trees of the woodland blurring past as he ran, desperately trying to keep up with her. His leg roared in pain; the damn limb had broken as he’d hit the ground and he hadn’t had enough time for it to heal properly. Wolves in general had exceptional healing abilities; a broken bone could heal in a matter of hours not weeks, but he hadn’t had time to rest. Nevertheless, he shoved the pain aside and struggled onwards, he was not losing her now.

For miles they ran, Leyth chasing her up the hills and down the other side, shouting after her all the time. She was relentless, never slowing to catch her breath, never pausing to check behind her. She ran like a true wolf; deadly focused on her destination.

‘Tamriel!’ Leyth roared, though his voice was now hoarse from shouting, his feet were cut and bloody from the woodland floor, and he was so damn cold he felt as though his toes were going to fall off. Being naked in the middle of the woods in December would do that to you.

Up ahead, Tamriel whipped around the edge of a tree, darting at a sharp angle in another attempt to lose him. He lost sight of her for just a moment, but that was all it took; as he rounded the corner, she was gone. He couldn’t see her anywhere. Crap. Scanning the surrounding trees, Leyth paused to catch his breath, listening intently. He could only hear the sounds of the woodland, but as he strained his ears, picking past the usual sounds of nature, he found what he was looking for. The crunch of twigs and dead leaves on the ground, a sound that was only made by heavy human feet.

The noise seemed to be coming from his left, and it didn’t take long for him to be roaring through the woodland once again in that direction. He rounded a corner, then another, before stopping dead as a scream rippled through the woodland. A scream that was deafening to his ears, and all but ripped his heart from his chest. A scream that came from Tamriel’s lips.

Leyth didn’t wait, didn’t give himself time to wonder, he just ran as hard and as fast as he could in the direction that terrifying noise came from.

‘Tamriel!’ he screamed, rushing past the trees, his eyes searching the area, desperately seeking any sign of her. The coppery scent of blood filled his senses as he ran, forcing panic to surge to the surface and his feet moved even faster, if that was possible. Through the woods he ran, following his nose, screaming her name.

He came to a halt in a small clearing and what lay on the ground in front of him was enough to make him want to scream. Tamriel lay face down on the ground, covered in blood, a hefty fallen branch of a dead tree sticking out of her back.

Leyth bolted forward, trying to assess the damage. Crap. Her foot was caught in some wire mesh, designed to trap foxes and rabbits. She’d obviously fallen hard after getting her foot caught in that trap, her ankle was twisted and broken and, by the looks of it, she’d fallen on a broken tree branch. The thing had pierced straight through her stomach and had come out the other side.

‘Tamriel!’ he whispered, crouching next to her. She couldn’t have died. She just couldn’t. Not now. He carefully brushed aside her beautiful black hair, and felt the smooth skin on her neck for a pulse.

For a few painstaking moments, he found nothing. But when the small beat touched his fingertips, his heart leapt. She was alive, just.

Scanning his surroundings, Leyth tried desperately to work out what to do. Her fragile figure was broken and bleeding, the blood pulsing out and forming a shimmering pool on the floor.

He couldn’t leave her here, and he couldn’t call an ambulance. How would it look; him being naked next to an injured woman? And what would they think when she woke up screaming that a wolf who had turned into a man was chasing her? Shit.

He wished with all his might that he had his jacket on him, then he could radio through to the mansion and call for help. He looked up at the sky; by his estimate it was about 7 p.m., the two of them had been darting through the woods all day, and now the sun was finally beginning to sink beneath the horizon. He didn’t really have much of a choice.

Gritting his teeth, Leyth slowly bent down to assess Tamriel’s wound. It was bad. Really bad.

He moved over to her ankle, releasing it from the wire trap and bending the metal beyond repair. Maker knew he hated those cruel things.

He gently scooped Tamriel into his arms. The branch came with her, refusing to slide out of her stomach and, frankly, that was possibly the best thing. If he took it out, she might bleed out.

With urgency heating his veins, Leyth carefully turned her body over, cradling her against his chest like a child. Her skin was so damn pale; she was losing blood fast. Once he was sure she was still breathing and he had a good grip on her, he used his fingers to feel for the all-too-familiar tension of the shadows; he would need as much darkness as he could get to try and take them to somewhere safe unnoticed. He was, after all, a fully naked man carrying a bleeding, unconscious woman with a goddamn tree sticking out of her gut.

Tugging the darkness of the early evening around him, he bolted out of the woodland as far and as fast as he damn well could. His leg roared in agony, his feet felt as though they had been skinned alive, but he didn’t care. He needed to get Tamriel to safety, and at this moment nothing else mattered.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, Leyth broke free of the woodland and bolted through the fields at its edge, launching himself over the fence at the bottom in one hit. The cool pavement that lined the streets was a godsend for his feet, but he didn’t slow down, just kept going.

He shot past a group of teens that were leaning against the wall lining one side of the street. That earned him a few confused curses but, hell, he ran fast. By the time they’d realised he was there, he was gone again, and thankfully the winter evening darkness hid him, mostly. The shadows cloaking him in a layer of darkness would on a normal night make him nigh invisible, but now? Injured, with Tamriel in his arms? It just made him harder to spot.

He considered taking her to the mansion; the clinic would surely be the best place for her to be treated, but he couldn’t risk it. Hell, she was bleeding out; his chest and arms were covered in her blood, her skin growing ever colder. Shit. No, he didn’t have time.

So he went for his next best option, bolting through the streets of Folkestone until he came to her building. He didn’t bother trying to find her keys as he reached it, just slammed a shoulder into the door of the building and roared up the stairs to her flat. Shoving her door open with all his might, he thundered into her small living room, sweat dripping from his brow, his heart thumping. He carefully carried her to her overstuffed sofa and gingerly lay her on her side. Even more blood welled out of the wound, rapidly soaking the couch with red. Shit.

Panic practically overwhelmed him as he darted over to the broken door and slammed the now-rickety wood shut. He grabbed her house phone, hating the fact that her blood had covered his hands and that, as a result, everything he touched was left with smeared fingerprints.

Dialling Dax, the line connected almost instantly.

‘White Wolves Inc.,’ the guy drawled.

‘Dax, it’s Leyth. Get Doc down to Tamriel’s apartment ASAP. It’s registered on the pack’s database. She’s badly injured.’

‘What happened?’

‘No time, get him here. Now, Dax,’ Leyth barked.

‘He’s on his way. ETA, ten minutes.’

Leyth slammed the receiver down and darted back to Tamriel. Her skin was so pale she looked like a ghost, and blood was still flowing from her gut, albeit more slowly. He checked her pulse again, praying it was still steady. It was weak. Too weak. He launched himself into her bedroom, pulling apart her wardrobe and drawers until he found the pile of blankets he was looking for, and rushed back into the living room to press one of the blankets against her gaping wound and cover her cold body with the other.

He was such a damn idiot. This was his fault. This was all his fault.

Tamriel awoke with a start. What the hell had happened to her? She was in so much pain. It felt as though she’d been ripped apart. Inhaling as deeply as she could, and with immense difficulty, she picked through the scents surrounding her. She was definitely in her apartment; it smelt so familiar, yet amongst the usual scents of her living room she found the scent of man. Dark and musky. The scent she recognised right through to her core. It was the very same scent of that wolf.

He must be here.

The mad man who had chased her through the woods was in her apartment.

And she was injured. Shit.

I’m a werewolf. And so are you. The words thundered through her mind once again and her entire body began to tremble with the need to run, as far and as fast as she could. There was a madman in her house who had changed from a genuine wolf into a man before her very eyes. He was in her house and she couldn’t move. Panic thrashed its way through her, making her shake uncontrollably; her breath was coming out short and sharp. The images of that wolf, then that man were filling her mind, but she shoved them away.

Stop it, Tamriel! she told herself. It can’t have been real. It just can’t be. And if you’re going to get out of this situation alive, you need to get a goddamn grip and work out what’s going on and how you’re going to escape.

With fear wrapping its way around her, and her commonsense battling to keep control, she just kept telling herself over and over, It can’t be real. But somewhere, deep down in her heart, those words rang true; she’d always been different after all. But first she needed to work out what the hell was happening to her, and how on earth she was going to get out of this godforsaken situation.

Slowly opening an eyelid, she scanned the room. It was indeed her own living room; she was lying on her own sofa, covered in blankets. At the foot of the sofa, with his head down and his eyes shut was that man, the one with the black hair. He was stunning.

Tam could barely hold in a gasp as she took him in. He had one of her towels wrapped around his hips, and shoulders that took up half the sofa he was leaning against. His chest and stomach were broad and heavily muscled, a light dusting of black hair ran down his chest and disappeared into the towel.

Even as he slept, his features twisted into an expression that looked particularly wolfish.

She must be going mad. This sort of thing just didn’t happen in real life. Hell, she’d seen stories at the paper on murders, rapes, the works. Her colleagues had worked on so many cases that resonated fear and destruction, but watching a wolf turn into a man was absolutely mad, it was something out of stories and bad television programmes, not reality. Taking a deep breath, and trying to process everything that had happened to her, Tam carefully scanned the rest of the room. It was completely empty. Nothing and no one else there. What the hell had happened?

She glanced back at the undeniably gorgeous man and panic swept through her anew. She needed to get the hell out of here. She needed to put as much distance between her and this insanity as she physically could. Her heart thundered violently in her throat, her hands trembling as she attempted to formulate a plan of escape.

Trying to be as quiet as she physically could, Tamriel moved her arms, attempting to shift the blankets piled on top of her. The movement had her flinching as pain ricocheted through her; what the hell? Carefully she shuffled the blankets down to expose her chest. Thankfully she had been covered with a sheet that was wrapped around her torso, but her top half was very bare underneath. There was one hell of a bandage wrapped around her stomach; it was dark red in places. Every movement, every breath, brought tears to her eyes.

As she eyed the wound, memories flooded back to her. She was running away from that mad man, terrified of what she’d witnessed, of what he’d said. Terrified of him. More than that, she was terrified of the fact that the words he’d spoken echoed the thoughts she’d had all her life. Words that she had questioned since she was old enough to realise that she was different, that she had stronger senses than anyone she knew. She was absolutely terrified of the fact that as he’d changed from wolf to man, it seemed to her like the most natural motion in the world. It had called to her instincts and made her hunger to do the same, to become wolf. And that, beyond all else, was absolutely crazy. Hell, werewolves were a myth, a thing of fiction not reality. And what she had seen, the transformation, should have made her question her sanity, look for hidden cameras or magic tricks. The reporter in her wanted to do just that; wanted to find the facts hidden beneath one of the most unexplainable things she’d ever witnessed but, in her heart, she knew there was something more to this. And she knew that she was something more than human.

Pulling herself back to reality, Tam tried to make a plan of action, but the pain tearing its way through her body made even thinking difficult. She needed clothes, and she needed to get out of here.

She took a deep breath in and forced her feet off the sofa. As her legs slid to the side, however, a new, searing pain shot up from her ankle. It must be broken.

Tam sat there for the longest of moments, tears streaming down her face, breathing deeply through the pain. When it finally subsided a bit, she blinked away the tears and tried desperately to focus.

As the room came into view again through her blurred vision, she gasped. That man, that wolfman, had woken up and was standing directly over her. He was still wearing the towel; the small bit of material barely covered him. Even so, he managed to look huge; impressively tall and excessively manly. Even in a pink bath towel. Fear wrapped itself around her so rapidly that she could have sworn her heart just stopped beating, and her body was shaking so violently it was a wonder she didn’t vibrate right off the sofa.

There was a madman in a pink towel stood in her living room, looming over her, and she was stuck, unable to move off her goddamn sofa.

‘You’re awake.’

Tam didn’t speak, couldn’t. She was in so much pain that she could barely breathe. And the sight of this mostly naked man was doing little to help that.

‘Are you OK?’ Then he winced. ‘OK, that was a stupid question. Here, let me help you.’

‘I’m fine,’ Tam hissed out through clenched teeth. The man didn’t listen to her. In one swift movement, he scooped her into his arms and, before she even had time to scream, he’d gently swung her around and carefully propped her up into a sitting position on her sofa, covering her with blankets.

‘Who are you?’ Tam spat, trying desperately to breathe properly.

‘I’m Leyth,’ he said, as if that would explain everything. She waited, but quickly worked out he wasn’t going to say any more, so she tried a different tactic.

‘What the hell happened?’ she said, motioning to her stomach.

‘You fell in the woods. Your ankle got caught in a trap, then you fell on a dead tree branch.’

‘I remember running. From you.’ He winced as she said it, his eyes darting away. He actually looked regretful, guilty almost. ‘I remember getting my foot caught. How did I get home?’

‘I carried you.’ Oh, obviously. A naked man carrying a bleeding woman through the streets of Folkestone, like that went unnoticed.

‘Well, I’m fine. You can leave now.’

‘You’re not fine, Tamriel. And I’m not leaving you.’ God this man was irritating.

‘Leyth, if that really is your name. I’m honestly fine. It’s just a scratch. You can leave me now.’

‘You’re not.’ To prove a point, he walked over and carefully prodded her stomach. She winced as his fingers met her raw stomach and those damn tears started filling her vision once more. ‘And I can’t leave you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you know too much.’ Crap. It dawned on her why he was so reluctant to leave. She’d seen him change, shift from wolf to man, though part of her was still insisting that it was a dream, a magic trick. She now knew a very big secret, an incredibly well-hidden secret. One that would make front-page news without a doubt. If she could prove it.

This man clearly wasn’t going to let her leave here alive if he thought she was going to tell anyone his secret though.

‘No I don’t, I don’t know anything.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘I can’t remember anything that happened in the woods, I’m not even sure how I got there.’

‘Nice try.’ He flashed her a grin. ‘But you remember running from me, and that means you probably remember why you were running.’ Crap.

‘I won’t tell anyone.’

‘I know, I won’t let you.’ Double crap.

‘So what, you’re just going to keep me hostage in my own house?’

‘Until I can work out what to do with you, yes.’

Panic rippled up her spine. Was he going to kill her? Why the hell had she chased that wolf out into the woods? Her tendency to jump into situations before thinking about them had always gotten her into trouble. Why was she such a stubborn idiot? Now what was she going to do? She was stuck in her own apartment, with a brute who easily swamped her in size, unable to run because she was badly injured.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ Tamriel looked the guy straight in the eye. No point in beating around the proverbial bush.

‘What?’ The man looked genuinely shocked at her words. ‘Hell, no. Why would I do that?’

‘Because I know your secret.’

‘Shit. Tamriel, no, I’m not going to kill you.’

‘Why not?’ OK, so maybe she shouldn’t be questioning his motives. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she should just leave it at that, right?

‘Because.’

‘Because what?’ OK, Tam, stop irritating the big man who could rip you apart in a heartbeat. The problem was her stubbornness. Now she was physically unable to run, to save herself, she might as well ask and get answers.

‘Tamriel,’ he cautioned her.

‘Leyth. If you’re going to kidnap me and keep my against my will in my own home, then you’re damn well going to give me some answers.’

He blew out a frustrated breath. ‘I know your father.’

Tam sucked in a sharp breath. And another.

‘Like hell you do,’ she hissed eventually. Looking directly into those icy-grey eyes, she willed him to take it back, to cut the crap and tell her the truth but, even as she forced herself through the age-old pain, through the horror she’d felt all the years after losing her father, she sensed no lie in his words. His eyes stayed locked onto hers, open and honest, gleaming with what? Regret?

‘Tamriel. I know John Chambers, I know your dad.’

‘My dad is dead,’ she spat, wincing as the motion sent pain reverberating through her body.

‘He’s not, Tamriel. Your dad left you when you were young because he had to go on a mission for the Council.’

‘The what? No. You’re lying. My dad died.’

‘Look, I hate that you’re finding out this way. I hate that you have to find out. But your dad left years ago to go under cover for the Council. He went to infiltrate the Circle and no one has seen or heard from him since.’

‘Prove it.’

‘I…’ He winced. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘I, uh—’ He motioned to his almost-naked state. ‘I lost my clothes.’

She snorted. Though it hurt like hell, her body screaming in agony as her stomach moved, it actually felt good to laugh. Not that she would admit it at a time like this. But hell, this man, this crazy kidnapping man, actually made her feel safe. Lord only knew why, but she just couldn’t help but like him a little. She hated that she did, hated everything about her treacherous mind; she wanted to scream in terror, she wanted to run as far and as fast as she could. She wanted to hate him with everything she had.

But if she was truly honest with herself?

She didn’t.

She found herself smiling at him. Although he was scary as hell, he held himself like a man with honour and she could see him doing everything he physically could to seem as non-threatening as possible.

And on top of that, the reporter in her wanted to be here, wanted to find the story here, to find the answers to the thousands of questions she had crowding her mind. Wanted to work out exactly what was going on. And if she was really honest with herself? Would she really run if she wasn’t badly injured? Would she really try to escape? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer.

Tam didn’t believe that he was lying about her father, but she didn’t necessarily think he actually knew him. Her father was dead. And that was all there was to it. Right now? She didn’t really want to think about it either.

‘So the branch went straight through my stomach?’

‘Yeah, it was really bad.’ He eyed her. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like crap. But surely if I was impaled by wood, I should feel worse.’ She fingered the sheet covering her. She did feel like hell. Every part of her hurt. It was a pain so intense that she could barely wiggle her toes, yet she was sure that if she really had been on the worse side of a large stick she should be unconscious, battling for her life. Not sat on her own sofa, chit-chatting with a kidnapper.

‘Tamriel.’ Leyth heaved a great breath, like he was gearing up for the mother of all conversations. ‘You are wolf.’

‘Sure,’ she snorted, though it came out strangled. Fear and confusion prickled up her spine once more. He had to be lying. He had to be playing a trick on her.

‘You are. And the sooner you get to grips with that, the better.’

‘You’re lying.’ She hated how hoarse her voice sounded. Hell, he had to be lying. Werewolves didn’t exist. They didn’t. But, hell, even as she forced herself to believe that, the voice in the back of her mind told her he spoke the truth. It made sense after all. Her father had always been so strict about the strangest of things; don’t go out in the woods alone, don’t watch the sunrise, don’t look directly at the full moon. Don’t play with wolves.

Come to think of it, her family home had been covered in pictures of wolves; one wolf in particular. A huge brown wolf with dark-brown eyes, and there had been photos of her mother sitting with her arm around it, pictures of the wolf running in the woodland. She’d always been drawn to wolves.

‘So you’re a werewolf?’

‘Well, yes, but we don’t call ourselves werewolves. We’re just wolves. The nickname the media gave us is frankly offensive.’

‘OK, so you’re a wolf?’

‘Yes.’

‘Prove it.’

Leyth could hear the slight tremor in her voice, could see the ever so slight tremble in her hand as she gripped the sheet covering her. She really didn’t want to believe it. She was fighting every instinct she had and he could see the turmoil behind those beautiful eyes.

‘Right.’ She took a deep, shuddery breath. ‘If this is real, and I’m not saying I believe you, I just want to know how you do it.’

‘OK, I can—’

‘Don’t speak.’ She cut him off. ‘You don’t get to speak right now. You don’t get to do anything. Just let me figure this out. There has to be an explanation.’

He could see her trying not to panic. Her eyes were wide and filled with a combination of fear and cold determination, her hands trembling and her heart racing. She was trying to control the situation, trying to find the facts hidden beneath the magic.

‘Right. Move, over there. Where I can see you.’ He followed her orders, gingerly walking into the middle of her living room and stopping in the spot she had indicated.

‘Now do it, turn yourself into a wolf.’

Leyth silently hid a grin. Tam was making him shift into wolf right in front of her, in a completely open space so there was no way he could hide any ‘tricks’.

She was smart. She was making sure it was a true change, not a trick of the brain.

‘OK, I’m going to shift now,’ Leyth said calmly, bending down onto his knees and calling the wolf at his core, who came happily bounding to the surface. Leyth tried his best to shift slowly, to make the change happen in a way that she could watch and attempt to understand.

His bones began to crack and writhe within his skin. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe as the change took him. It was as intense as an orgasm; the feeling overwhelmed you, forced you to be still, to do nothing but ride out the waves of pain and ecstasy. It was all he could feel, all he could think of. Slowly his bones began to split, to bow and break, reforming into that of the wolf; his legs shortened, his ribcage collapsed, his shoulders dislocated and shifted downwards to their new position. His spine began to lengthen, forming a skinny tail as his face began to collapse and rebuild itself, forming a muzzle. His ears stretched and shifted, rising to the top of his head before, finally, the itching began. His skin distorted and writhed, giving way to black and grey fur that broke out of his pores in waves, covering him from nose to tail.

When it was finally over, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at Tamriel, who had turned even paler. If that was physically possible.

‘H-h-oly shit,’ she stammered, her eyes wide and wild.

‘Come here,’ she commanded. ‘Slowly.’ Though it came out gently, almost a whisper, as she tried to digest the situation. Leyth did as she asked and came to stand next to her. She was sat on the sofa, wrapped in a myriad of blankets. She carefully ran a hand across his fur, wincing as she moved.

‘Right. Now change back into a man,’ she croaked.

Leyth did as he was asked, reversing the process, allowing his body to break and reshape. He could feel Tamriel watching him intently, her keen eyes searching for any hidden trick, any explanation for what was happening. After all, magic rarely had a logical explanation.

‘Oh hell,’ she stammered when he was finally finished, eyeing him as he studiously dragged the little towel around his waist to cover himself. ‘You really are a werewolf.’

‘Yeah.’ His voice was hoarse, shifting twice in quick succession would do that to you. ‘So are you.’

‘I can…’ She absently rubbed her eyes. ‘I can do that?’

‘Well, we’ll see.’

She cleared her throat. ‘That doesn’t explain why I’m not practically dying. If this wound was as bad as you’ve made it out to be, how am I still breathing?’

‘Wolves have exceptional healing capabilities. You’ve slept through the worst of it. We can heal a broken bone in a matter of hours. What would kill a human only wounds us.’

‘Right.’ She snorted, though even as she tried to laugh it off, he could see her mind working at a hundred miles an hour behind those green eyes. ‘I’ve always been a fast healer, cuts go in hours not days, bruises are gone in minutes.’

‘And now you’ve been through your fever, you will heal even faster. You have to as a wolf. Your body needs to be able to break down and rebuild itself quickly when you change and, as a result, can heal much faster than that of a human.’

Leyth watched Tamriel as she tried to digest everything that had happened to her over the last few hours.

‘My fever?’

‘You went through the fever over the last few days. Doc and I looked after you.’

‘I was in a medical clinic, wasn’t I?’ She winced.

‘Yes.’ Leyth confirmed. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yeah, my head just hurts,’ Tamriel replied. Crap, he realised he hadn’t even offered her a drink. He was such an arse. Shooting to his feet, he stalked into the kitchen, filled a glass with water and rooted through her drawer for some asprin.

‘Here.’ He handed her the water and, as she took it, her fingers brushed his, sending ripples of heat shooting up his arm. For a heartbeat he stood, staring at his hand. What the hell was that?

‘You should—’ He cleared his throat. ‘You should let me check that.’ He waved a hand towards her stomach.

‘OK,’ she said, sipping the water. She looked a little dazed still and, to be honest, he was surprised she was going to let him. Hell, this female had so much fight in her; she was so irritatingly stubborn, he had honestly expected her to fight him, to suffer through the pain and try to do everything herself.

‘OK then.’

Yet as he looked at her, he could see through that strength, and he caught a brief glimpse of the vulnerable, scared female hiding underneath. The female who was in a great deal of pain, who had literally just witnessed her world come crashing down before her.

‘I’m going to move you, if that’s OK,’ he grunted, watching her carefully.

‘Do it,’ she replied, locking eyes with him. He watched that vulnerability disappear and the annoyingly cold determination fill her gaze. Carefully he moved forward, sliding his arms around her. As her skin touched his, those bizarre ripples of heat flowed through him once again.

What on earth was happening to him? He hadn’t been with a female for Maker only knew how long. His traitorous manhood leapt to attention, making his heart thud even harder. He needed to get laid. His body was betraying him at the sight of any female, obviously. And this was one female he did not want to get involved with. Hell, he didn’t want to get involved with any female.

Shoving those ridiculous thoughts aside, he focused on wrapping his arms around her and then lifted her fragile body up off the sofa as carefully as he could, not wanting to hurt her. Slowly, he spun her around so she was lying on her back on the sofa, and gingerly fingered the sheet covering her.

‘Just do it.’

Damn, she was infuriatingly stubborn. Here he was, trying to be nice and gentle and she was barking orders at him anyway. Bunching up one of the discarded blankets, he draped it over her chest so she could cover herself while he checked her stomach. She held the blanket tightly around her breasts as he carefully slid the sheet covering her downwards, exposing her stomach.

Leyth caught himself almost sighing as her pale skin slowly came into sight. What the hell had come over him? Telling himself to get a grip, he unwrapped the bandage on her abdomen. It was a little awkward, but this strange moment was the closest he’d been to a female in years. His heart was hammering his ribcage so damn hard he wasn’t entirely sure the thing wasn’t going to punch straight through his skin and out the other side. Goddamn he needed to get laid.

Finally the bandage gave way to her milky skin, and as he lifted the soft gauze, the horrific wound came into sight. Lord almighty, it was bad. Though it was healing well, the wound was still huge, a circular hole as big as his own fist marred her skin just to the left of her belly button. The bleeding had stopped, but the skin was puckered and looked incredibly sore.

‘Holy hell,’ she exclaimed, looking down at herself.

‘Told you it was bad,’ he muttered, setting the bandage aside and reaching for the medical bag Doc had left behind. He pulled out some disinfectant and antibiotic cream and began to clean the wound. Tamriel hissed as the liquid hit her, making him curse internally as his eyes caught hers. She had closed her lids over those emerald eyes, clearly not wanting to look weak in front of him, yet he could see the tears threatening to spill.

‘It’s OK,’ he said soothingly. Damn, he was no good at this nice guy crap. Yet all he wanted to do was look after her, stop the pain and the hurt, and ease the confusion riding her mind. Where the hell were these thoughts coming from? ‘I’ll be done in a minute, hang tight,’ he added gruffly.

When the disinfectant had been applied, he smeared cream across the wound, making her delicate features twist into controlled agony. Anger flared, roaring to the surface. It was anger at himself for scaring her to the point that she felt she had to run away from him. It was his damn fault she was in this much pain and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

‘I’m going to put a fresh bandage on, cool?’ he said as calmly as he could, though his mind was anything but calm.

‘Yup,’ she whispered.

When he was finished, she sat up and put weight on her feet, wincing. He could literally feel the waves of fear and pain washing off her, see the tears wanting to spill and watched as her face contorted with unspoken agony, yet even as he could see, hear and sense the pain she was in, he could see her desperately trying not to show him that fear; she wanted him to believe her to be strong, to show no weakness. And it was more than a little infuriating.

‘Ready?’ he grunted, sliding a hand awkwardly underneath her back and lifting her midriff off the sofa, a combination of his efforts and hers had her arching her back in one hell of a curve so he could quickly wrap the bandage around her, keeping the gauze in place.

But as she arched, he couldn’t move. His breath hitched in his throat as his gaze took her in. Unwanted images flickered through his mind, images of her arching her back like that for him in a very different way. Desire punched him, hard, hitting below the belt.

‘Do it,’ she grunted.

Crap. He really needed to get away from this female before he did something he would regret. He could not be getting involved with any female, let alone one as vulnerable as Tamriel.

Leyth made quick work of wrapping the bandage around her stomach, then hastily covered her in blankets, keeping his eyes anywhere but on her. His traitorous crotch refused to cooperate, fighting against his jeans.

‘You OK?’ he growled.

‘Yup,’ she said through gritted teeth.

He could see the exhaustion sweeping through her. ‘Do you mind if I grab a shower?’ He motioned to the dried blood still covering his arms and chest.

‘Sure. Go ahead,’ she mumbled, waving towards the bathroom.

‘Good. Try to sleep.’

He was almost certain she would be out like a light before he’d even left the room, and maybe that was for the best.

Chapter Five

Tamriel was absolutely exhausted but, hell, she wasn’t going to let a silly thing like sleep stop her. Leyth excused himself and went to shower, which was possibly the best thing that could have happened. It gave her a few minutes of vital alone time that she really needed. Time to collect herself and process all that had just happened.

As he left the room, she didn’t waste any time. Trying her hardest to sit up, she struggled against the sofa. Even that had tears streaming from her eyes and her body screaming in agony. Her mind was buzzing with unanswered questions; she was so confused and frustrated, it was a wonder she didn’t literally burst.

Cursing under her breath, Tam reached an arm underneath her sofa and pulled out her computer. She hit the power button. She didn’t have long before her captor returned from the shower and she needed answers quickly. She Googled ‘Werewolves, Folkestone.’

The page filled up with various websites claiming to be an ‘online hangout for genuine werewolves’. All fake gothic crap. Nothing of any interest.

Tapping her fingers against the arm of the sofa, Tam blew out a frustrated breath before typing in ‘wolves’.

This didn’t return very much of interest, only pictures of various wolves around the world, a Wikipedia description of the types of wolves around today, and your more generic wolf sites.

She changed the search term to ‘Wolves in Kent.’

The first thing that came up was the website for the Wildlife Park called ‘White Wolves Inc.’. It looked pretty normal, a description of the park itself and a bit about the wolves and other wildlife that was kept there.

It struck her as odd, however, that the park was not open to the public. It was only available for private hire, and even that had to be applied for, scheduled and approved.

There were no articles about the wildlife park, no reviews or advertisements. Only the low-key website. Tam clicked back through to the full list of searches.

Port Lympne, the zoo, popped up in Google’s search results, but Tam didn’t bother looking at that. She knew all about the zoo and the Aspinall Foundation, following a story she did on them last year.

Scrolling through the many results, Tam finally came across an article that hooked her interest. It was entitled ‘Real Werewolves in Kent’.

Reading through the article, she found it was a detailed description of one researcher’s experience with ‘werewolves’. It didn’t say where in Kent he’d found them, but he did describe a huge man with an attractive accent. The article went on to describe how the researcher had cameras hidden in various areas of woodland around the Kent countryside, and one of these had picked up footage of a huge man walking out into the woodland stark naked. He had apparently then proceeded to drop onto all fours and literally turned into an enormous wolf. The article was incredibly descriptive about how the change happened, and the author, still obviously in shock from what he’d witnessed, then reeled off several of his many theories surrounding the experience.

Tamriel then did a search on the researcher. His name was Tobias Daniels, and he’d written various books and articles on ‘supernatural happenings’ in the Kent area. Strangely, following that particular article, he’d promptly written a disclaimer telling the world that it was a prank played by some of the local college kids and that he had no reason to believe that werewolves actually exist. Interesting.

Tam dug a little further. Tobias Daniels had apparently come into a lot of money recently, only weeks after that particular article in fact, and now ran a private research facility in Canterbury, although he refused to publish any of his findings.

Tam chewed on this information for a little while, skimming through various articles that mentioned the researcher, and published works by the man himself. After a while, she absently typed ‘real werewolf’ into Google, which brought up all manner of websites, some a little ridiculous, others a little more serious.

Tam snorted at the thought. Was she actually trying to believe this? But, following what she’d witnessed, how could she not?

Tam rubbed her eyes. She herself was definitely not normal, was it really a stretch to believe she genuinely was supernatural? Probably not.

Through the thin walls of her flat, she could hear the water running still. She had some time. God that man scared her yet, behind that hard exterior, she’d managed to see glimpses of compassion. She clicked on her email icon and pulled up a new message. Who the hell was she going to email? ‘Help, I’m trapped in my own house, held captive by a werewolf.’ Who on earth wasn’t going to think that was a prank?

Tam finally decided that dropping her colleague at work an email was the best plan, keeping it short and simple, ‘At home, please send help.’

As she hit send, she felt a pang of guilt; what if someone came over and Leyth killed or hurt them? The logical side of her pointed out that they were in a building full of people, in the middle of a town, so it would be difficult for her captor to do anything violent and it go unnoticed. Besides, he hadn’t done anything even remotely malicious yet. In fact, he’d only tried to help her; he’d carried her home after she’d injured herself and nursed her back to health. She would probably have died if it weren’t for him and, what’s more, he had brought her home. Plus he hadn’t once said she couldn’t leave; she was just too sore to move.

As she was mulling on this, a message popped up in her inbox. Service delivery notification failure. The message she’d sent hadn’t been delivered. Frowning, and keeping her ear tuned in to the shower, she quickly typed the message out again, double-checked the address, and hit ‘send’ again. A few seconds later, the message notifying her that it hadn’t sent popped up again. Crap. She sent another message to a different colleague, and had the same response. Finally she blew out a frustrated breath and sent a message to her mother. The last thing she wanted to do was to get her mother involved in all this madness, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The message failed to send once more. What the hell?

Clicking onto the web browser, she typed in ‘Facebook’ and hit enter. She could message someone on there, not that she had many friends to speak of. She sucked in a disbelieving breath as a message popped up on her browser: ‘access denied’.

What the—?

Her confusion was cut short as she heard the water in the shower come to a stop and the glass door open. Crap. She slammed her laptop shut and shoved it underneath the sofa, not wanting her ‘captor’ to know she had some, albeit limited, access to the Internet and, hopefully, if she could just work out how, a means of connecting to the outside world. Though even as she thought it, her heart sank. They’d obviously found a way of restricting her Internet so she couldn’t call for help, and she would put money on the fact that her captor had found a way of restricting her phone line as well.

She was well and truly trapped, held hostage in her own home with no way of escape. Panic flooded her veins, yet even as it began to overwhelm her, it was rapidly chased away as Leyth, the apparent kidnapper holding her against her will, stepped into her living room. A fresh towel had been wrapped around his hips and his skin was gleaming with water from the shower. His shaggy hair was damp and hanging in ringlets around his harsh, chiselled face. He smelt clean, like soap and shampoo though, as she inhaled, she noted something else teasing her senses, something incredibly manly, something that made her jaw drop open and her heart race. He smelt of lust and sex.

What the hell had he been doing in her shower?

As those incredibly erotic scents hit her, she found herself aching in places she’d long forgotten about. His powerful body flexed in all the right places as he crossed the room towards the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’ he barked over his shoulder.

‘Sure.’ She bit the words out, though her voice was husky, harsh. She hated the way her voice sounded right now and, more than that, detested the way her body was reacting to that man. That smell. Every part of her was tingling with need, with unwanted lust. Her body was betraying her against all logic.

She violently shoved those ridiculous thoughts aside, telling herself to get a damn grip. She’d heard of what they called ‘Stockholm syndrome’; when someone had been kidnapped and kept in close quarters with their captor for extended periods of time, they sometimes fell for them. It was an apparently natural reaction to being around someone; to being in such close proximity for an extended period of time, but hell. She hadn’t been kept here with him for long enough for that to happen. Had she?

Leyth picked up the cup of coffee and walked it over to Tamriel, who was sat on the sofa, wide eyes tracking his every move. Putting the warm mug in her still shaking hand, he sat on the floor in front of her, shuffling the towel round to cover himself as he went; he didn’t want to flash her. Hell, she’d seen enough today.

Briefly wishing he could go and grab his clothes, which were no doubt still outside from his shift yesterday, he muttered another apology.

‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.

‘OK, I think,’ she croaked. ‘Right,’ Tam visibly pulled herself together, taking a deep breath and eyeing Leyth, ‘tell me what’s going on.’

She was so strong, so determined. He couldn’t help but respect her. Any other female, wolf or otherwise, would have fallen apart at the seams by now. Being pulled out of her life, going through the fever, being confronted by a wolf when you’re down and injured, being told you’re a werewolf… You just had to respect her; she was in a room with a male who dominated her in size and strength, and she was still on the ball.

He ran a hand through his hair. Where to begin?

How did he explain to this fragile-but-deadly female what was possibly going to happen to her? How much did he explain about the Council? How much could she handle?

‘Well. Do you remember the last five days?’

‘No.’

‘OK, that’s not surprising. You went through the “fever”, which is essentially a wolf’s version of puberty.’ She snorted at that, but waved her hand, urging him to go on. ‘You’re supposed to meet your wolf, accept her and then go through the change when the fever takes you.’

‘I’m guessing by your tone of voice that I didn’t go “through the change”?’

‘You didn’t complete your transition.’

‘Shit,’ she cursed, scrubbing a hand across her face in disbelief.

‘I’m sorry, Tamriel,’ he muttered. And he genuinely was; she deserved so much better than any of them had to offer. Tam looked at him, straight in the eye for the longest of moments, before laughing. Laughing long and hard.

‘What?’ He grinned at her, glad she’d found something funny about the situation.

‘I’ve always been different. My senses have always been second to none, and it made me a freak. My entire life, I’ve been a freak.’

‘You’re not a freak. Far from it, in fact.’ He tried to soothe her a little, though this sensitive crap didn’t exactly come to him easily.

‘I am! Now I’ve got a possible explanation for my excessively acute senses, my abnormal strength and speed. I’ve also finally found people who might just understand me. I then find out that I haven’t done it properly? I’m a freak of nature, in my world and yours.’

‘You’re really not a freak of nature, Tamri—’

‘How do you know that? How am I anything but a freak—’

‘Because.’ He cut her off, his mind racing, yet lost for words. He cleared his throat and just said, ‘Because you’re strong. You would make a good wolf.’

She rolled her eyes at him, but at least it made her stop with the ‘freak’ thing.

‘Do you…’ he started, wishing he knew what to say to her. Right now he would just settle for a smoke. ‘Do you mind if I grab my clothes from outside?’

‘What?’

‘When I, uh, shifted, I think I lost my clothes on the way.’

Shock hit her hard.

She opened her mouth, closed it again. Opened it. Closed it.

‘So.’ She put her coffee down and rubbed her eyes. Took a breath. Then another.

‘You were sitting in my window,’ she finally finished.

‘Uh, yes I was.’ Crap. Crap. Crap. ‘I was, uh, making sure you were OK.’ He grimaced.

‘You fell—’

‘Yeah, I lost my balance.’ Tamriel’s eyes darted to the front door, which was currently being held closed with one of her chairs; the damn wood had splintered and broken when he’d forced his way into her apartment.

‘Would you mind if I—?’

‘Nah, go ahead. It’s not like I can get up right now and run away, is it?’ Though she said the words in a fairly light-hearted manner, they cut straight through him. Hell, the truth hurt. She was basically being held against her will in her own house, and though he wasn’t forcing her to stay, she couldn’t leave. And he couldn’t leave her. Damn, walking out of that door and not coming back would possibly be the best thing for the both of them. But he couldn’t leave her now; it wasn’t an option, not with her currently fragile physical state. What if the Council got their hands on her? God, he’d never forgive himself if she fell into the hands of a tuhrned.

The tuhrned were supernaturals that went against the Council, and they did it in the wrong way. Rather than simply going rogue as Leyth himself had once been, they joined the Circle, a powerful group of supernaturals that used dark magic. The ritual sucked the life out of them, and left nothing in its wake; merely the shell of the person they had once been. The Circle could then control the body, using it as a vessel to do its dirty work.

The tuhrned were nicknamed ‘tombs’ because they were like the walking dead. Hell of a way to go, from one controlling bunch of idiots, to another. Honestly, how on earth becoming zombified by a bunch of magis on a power trip was better than living by the strict rules of the Council was something he’d never understand. The only way to kill the bastards was to cut the head off, and that only worked because the eyes couldn’t see much if the head wasn’t attached, so the magi controlling the body usually gave up.

Tamriel shot him a confused look. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she must be feeling right now. Crap.

‘Just gonna grab my clothes then,’ he mumbled, bolting out of the door, down the stairs and out the building. He flew round the corner to find himself standing in the middle of the patch of grass. Looking around frantically, he found nothing. Then he heard a mischievous laugh. He looked up at Tamriel’s flat to see that she’d hauled herself over to a window and was leaning out, watching him with amusement. She pointed to the bush lining the edge of a wall. Leyth walked over, bent down and pulled a pair of trousers free. They must have fallen off as he shifted.

‘Nice.’ She grinned, eyeing him up. He actually blushed and covered himself, suddenly painfully aware that he was almost naked, wearing only a little pink towel outside in the middle of a town.

Leyth cursed and shoved the combats on, wishing like hell that something could be easy for a change.

A little further down the lawn, he pulled his leather jacket off the bush, and swiftly hightailed it back upstairs to Tam’s flat. As he neared her front door, he couldn’t help but notice the dance his stomach started doing. What the hell was all this crap? He just couldn’t understand it.

As he shot into her living room and secured the door once more, she waved him over, reaching a hand out for his jacket. A little confused, he handed the thing over and watched as she raided the pockets; pulled out his wallet and unclipped his knives before handing it back to him. Smart, not just a pretty face; she had brains on her as well.

Pulling free his ID card, she read: Leyth Aera –White Wolves Inc.

‘Wow. Subtle!’ she chuckled, throwing the card at him.

‘Well, you know what they say, hide in plain sight,’ he muttered, shoving it back in his pocket and grabbing at his cigs. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Nah, go ahead,’ she said, absently fingering his knife set. ‘What happened to your T-shirt?’

‘Ah, they don’t tend to hold out particularly well through the change, probably shredded to pieces outside somewhere.’

Shooting him a stern look, she bent down and rummaged under the sofa for something, finally coming up with a laptop.

‘You restricted my Internet access,’ she said, a statement not a question.

‘I didn’t—’ he started, but she shot him a stern look, making him re-think his words. Damn, he could still physically feel the fear radiating off her, but he could tell she was relaxing, if only slightly. ‘Dax did. You can go online, you just can’t send messages out.’

‘I know,’ she snapped. ‘Who’s Tobias Daniels?’

‘Who?’

‘Him.’ She swung the screen around so he could see.

‘He had a video of one of our pack going through the change.’

‘Did you kill him?’

‘Hell, no! His research was actually really good; we paid him a lot of money to keep researching what he loved, but the catch was that he couldn’t publish any of it. It cannot get out to the media, it’s too risky. We do not want to be exposed.’

‘I see.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. She had positioned herself on the far side of the sofa, his own knives clipped to her belt.

She moved around to put her laptop back where it had been, wincing as she bent down. Leyth could see her healing well; that wound would be gone by tomorrow morning, but he just hated how much pain she was in.

She needed to be looked at by a professional; he was handy with first aid, but he didn’t want to take any risks when it came to her.

And there was only one man he would trust to look at her wounds and do a good job. That was Doc.

‘You should really let me take you to our clinic, to get your wounds checked by our doctor. I take it you don’t want him here?’

Chapter Six

Tamriel wasn’t entirely sure what to do. She had seen so much proof, so many unexplainable facts that all added up to one conclusion. This man might actually be telling the truth; he might actually be a wolf. And, holy crap, if that wasn’t the story of the century, she didn’t know what was.

The worst part? Try as she might, she couldn’t dislike him. She wanted to hate him, wanted to fear him, fear this situation. But the more time that passed, the more she found herself actually kind of, sort of, maybe liking him? Which was absurd.

Frankly, she figured if he was going to kill her, or be of any real threat to her, he would have done it already. The only thing he had done, is try to help her in her wounded state. Try and tell her what she had thought were lies, yet why would he bother lying about that? And why did his words ring true to her very core?

‘You should really let me take you to our clinic, to get your wounds checked by Doc. I take it you don’t want him here?’ Leyth looked her up and down. He was right, her wounds were pretty bad and she should be seen by a professional. And he was right again; she didn’t want any more strange men in her home. But did she really want to go to this man’s house? To be in a strange place with two strange men all on her own?

If he was going to kill you, he would have done it by now, her inner voice pointed out, but honestly? She needed answers, she needed to know who he was, who this alleged ‘pack’ was.

Her wound was a nasty one, but she could feel it healing even now, much faster than any normal person should be able to. What if she went to a normal hospital and they took her in for testing like a lab rat? At least this doctor would know what to expect.

And at least, if she felt threatened, she could launch herself out of the car; surely they were going to drive through the town, so she would have people around her.

‘OK, you can take me. I need clothes first though.’ She had to admit, as strange and scary as this situation was, she was actually a little excited about getting out of the apartment. Being held hostage would do that to a girl.

After a few minutes of awkwardly trying to dress herself with the clothes Leyth had brought in, she tied her hair into a scruffy ponytail and was basically ready to go. Putting the top and jumper on hadn’t been too bad, the jeans were a pain in the arse, but she point blank refused to ask Leyth for help. She could damn well dress herself. Socks and shoes were difficult though. Try as she might, the wound on her stomach screamed in agony every time she moved forward, forcing her to sit straight again.

‘Here, let me,’ he grunted, sinking to his knees before her and sliding a trainer onto her good foot. He then carefully loosened the second trainer and slid that onto the foot with the swollen ankle, that actually didn’t hurt that badly any more. She flexed her ankle and grinned. Although it hurt like nothing she’d ever felt before, she could actually move it! Leyth smiled up at her as she flexed her foot, his icy-grey eyes meeting hers, shining with amusement and what she could have sworn was something a little more. In that second her heart stopped beating. Her breath caught in her throat. For just a moment, she got lost in the depths of his eyes. No. She was not

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