Nothing he said reassured her. “I guess it’s a good thing my magical, amazing scent doesn’t work on you.” She threw those words out deliberately to mock him and herself. Then she dropped her sheet and put her clothes right back on. She wasn’t about to crawl into that bed with him, not just clothed in a bra and panties. “I mean, if the scent did the mojo like you’ve been telling me it does to other wolves, we’d be in trouble.”

She climbed into the bed and slid as far to the right side as possible.

Connor lowered his body onto the mattress. It sagged beneath his weight, and Chloe almost rolled toward him. Her fingers clamped around the edge of the mattress and she held on tightly.

Moments passed in silence. All she could hear was the loud drumming of her heartbeat.

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out Connor, trying to pretend that he wasn’t there. An impossible task, considering how hyper aware of him she was. His scent—rich, masculine—teased her nose and the heat from his body seemed to reach out and surround her.

“I never said that it didn’t work on me.”

Her eyes shot open. His voice had been such a low, deep growl.

“I never said your scent didn’t influence me.”

She licked lips that had gone desert dry.

“If I were just a werewolf, I’d be on you right now.” The mattress dipped a little more as he shifted toward her. “There’s a reason Eric isn’t sending any werewolf guards for you. You smell like f**king temptation.”

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t.” She’d had werewolf guards in the past. No one had gone all crazy and said she was irresistible.

“Trust me, you do. After you…came back…something was different. I had to put two werewolves in the med ward at the Para Unit, because they were trying to get to you the first time you sauntered out of Eric’s office.”

Her fingers tightened around the bedcovers. “You’re a werewolf. You don’t—”

“You don’t ever really want to know what I am.”

Now that just made her curious. Her head turned on the pillow so that she could better see him. “Why did you kiss me?” Chloe hadn’t meant to ask that question, but well, there it was. Hanging out there all awkward-like in the dark.

“I didn’t want you screaming at the humans, trying to get them to help you.”

She waited. He didn’t say more. “You’re such a liar.”

Now his head turned toward her.

“I can tell when a man wants me.” And there had been no missing his arousal. He’d definitely been game-on for her in that alley.

“I’m sure there have been plenty of men who want you.” His voice sounded funny. Too tight. Too hard. Was he angry? Jealous? She couldn’t be certain.

“Why is my scent different?” It was easier to talk with him in the dark. “Did I come back…wrong?” That was her fear. But then, she hadn’t exactly been right before the change, either. At sixteen, she’d been bitten by a werewolf—several werewolves. She had the DNA that should have made her transform after that bite. Because once a human was bitten, there were only two options.

Death.

Or transformation.

Once upon a time, she’d had an ancestor who had been a natural-born werewolf, so Chloe should have transformed. She had, sort of.

Her beast had lived and breathed inside of her. She’d felt the elemental, the primal call from deep within. But when it came time to shift, she’d—

Gotten stuck.

A horrible mix of human and wolf. Not fully either. Stuck. In agony.

“You left me.”

Chloe blinked.

“Right then, you just went somewhere else in your head. Where did you go, Chloe?”

Why not confess? “I think my beast is dead. I came back, but it didn’t.” Because she hadn’t felt that primal call since she’d literally risen from the dead. Hadn’t shifted—even in her stilted, painful way.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he murmured.

Like he would know about her pain. The guy was an alpha. Shifting wasn’t a problem for him. The guy could become a wolf in an instant. A blink.

“Eric ran his tests on me in that lab.” Eric’s sister Holly had been the doctor in charge there. Holly had poked and prodded Chloe until she had felt the urge to scream. Maybe she had—a time or twenty, mostly from the pain of all those experiments. Sometimes, it felt as if her whole life were one big experiment. “Do you know what he found?” Because Eric hadn’t shared those results with her. He’d just sent her away—with Connor.

“According to his tests, you’re a werewolf.”

She flinched. “Then why don’t I change?”

“The full moon hasn’t been up since you rose.”

Rose…what a nice way of saying came back from the dead.

“Let’s see what happens then.”

“And my scent?”

“Vampires can’t detect it and neither can humans. Eric didn’t even realize what was happening with you, not until I had to throw those other wolves against the wall.”

She had to let go of her death grip on the bedcovers. “What does it mean?”

“Probably something very bad.”

Fabulous. “That’s the story of my life.” She turned away from him. Closed her eyes. “Stay on your side of the bed, wolf, understand?”

“I hear you.”

She tried to slow her breathing. Tried to pretend that Connor wasn’t right beside her. Tried to pretend that she wasn’t afraid of sleep.

“I hope the fire doesn’t come,” Chloe whispered.

“What?”

But she didn’t speak again.

Chapter Three

Chloe was asleep. Her breathing was deep and even and she was on top of him.

Every muscle in Connor’s body was tight with tension. He’d been staying on his side of the bed, playing by the rules she’d thrown out, but, ten minutes into her little sleep routine, and Chloe had slid closer to him. Before he could do more than realize he was in trouble, she’d been on him. Her arms were draped around him and her head was snuggled over his heart.

Maybe he should have pushed her back to her side of the bed. If she woke up and saw them that way, Chloe would freak. But she wasn’t awake right then, and she felt….good… against him. Warm and soft.

He hadn’t exactly had a lot of softness in his life.

Not with his jerk of a father. A man who’d believed in giving as much pain as possible. A man who’d murdered Connor’s mother, who’d made his life hell for so many years.

Until that old bastard was killed in Purgatory. Right before Ian would have killed Connor, his father had been taken out.

His hand lifted. He…stroked Chloe’s hair. For the first time in his life, he almost felt a sense of peace slide through him. It was wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling peaceful, not with danger all around, not with Chloe so close but—

I think Chloe is the one giving me peace.

That didn’t make a bit of sense to him.

Still, he stroked her hair. He—

“Help me…” Her whisper. Low. Pain-filled. “It…hurts…”

“Chloe?”

“F-fire…stop the fire…” Then she shuddered against him.

His arms curled tighter around her. “Chloe, wake up.”

But she wasn’t waking.

He slid her to the side, settling her on the pillow there. He could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. She was crying in her sleep, whimpering as if she were being attacked.

This shit wasn’t happening.

He leaned over her. “Chloe!” Connor snapped out her name. “Wake up, now!”

She didn’t.

His fingers curled around her shoulders. “Chloe, wake up.” Her tears were cutting into him. He hated to see them sliding down her cheeks. “You’re having a bad dream.” He shook her once, gently. “Wake up, baby, wake—”

Her eyes flew open. She stared up at him, and then she screamed.

He was pretty sure that his ear drums nearly burst, but he managed to smile down at her. “Glad you’re back with me.”

“Get off me!” Chloe shoved against him.

Connor moved back, but he didn’t go far. He watched her, wary now.

Her hands were trembling as she touched her cheeks. She swiped away the tears. “I told you not to come on my side of the bed,” Chloe muttered. “Did you listen? No…”

“Tell me about the dream.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “What dream?”

Seriously? “The dream that had you crying. The dream about fire, Chloe.”

She jumped from the bed. Paced to the window. Stood in front of the blinds. “I wasn’t dreaming about fire.” She tucked her hair behind her left ear.

His eyes narrowed. He’d been watching Chloe carefully over the last few days. She’d just given him one of her “tells”—when she lied, she tucked her hair behind her left ear.

He rose, but stayed near the bed. “You said ‘fire’ and you asked for help.”

She didn’t look at him. She lifted the blinds. Stared out into the night. “You’re mistaken. I didn’t—”

He could hear the whistle of the bullet coming. Rushing through the air. Coming so fast—and heading right for Chloe. Using his enhanced speed, he rushed toward her, he grabbed Chloe—

The bullet cut across his arm.

He pushed Chloe to the floor and covered her with his body. Her breath sawed out as she trembled beneath him.

“What in the hell just happened?” Chloe asked, her voice hushed.

“Someone took a shot at you.” Only…that hadn’t been a silver bullet. Not a wooden one, either. He knew how both of those bullets felt.

“But no one knows I’m here!”

“Correction, no one knew…then you went for a drive into town.” And they must have been followed back. Sonofabitch. Connor had tried to be so careful.

I wasn’t careful enough.

“Connor, I’m scared.”

Those words pierced right into him. He lifted his head, just a bit, certainly not enough to present a target to whoever was out there shooting at them. Connor stared into Chloe’s eyes. “Don’t be. No one is going to hurt you.” Not on his watch.

Because they’d have to go through him in order to get her.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted something gleaming on the wooden floor. He reached over and his fingers curled around the object—not a bullet, not a regular one anyway. It was… “A tranq,” he muttered. “Hell, they’re trying to take you in alive.”

He could practically feel her fear filling the room.

“We have to get out of here, Chloe,” Connor told her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be easy. “We’re sitting ducks in this cabin. I’m not going to wait for them to close in on us.”

“I thought this place was supposed to be safe! It’s a safe house!”

And it should have been safe. The place was isolated, so he should have heard the approach of any unwelcome guests. He hadn’t, though. So that means paranormals are outside. And since those paranormals were hunting Chloe…werewolves.

Her father had been involved with a particularly nasty pack in Seattle. A branch that had wanted to come from the shadows and take over the area. But the pack leader, David Vincent, was currently in Eric’s custody. The last time Connor had seen the guy, David had been in a silver prison cell, curled up in a fetal position.

Did someone else take over the pack? He’d figure that out, later. For the moment…“I want you to stay at my side, every step of the way, got it?”

“How many are out there?” Chloe whispered.

He didn’t know. He was just hoping it wasn’t a full pack.

He reached under the bed and pulled out his weapons stash.

“Seriously?” Chloe said, her voice strained. “That was all under me? The whole time?”

He loaded the gun with silver bullets. He handed it to her. “If a werewolf comes at you—a werewolf that isn’t me—don’t be afraid to shoot.”

Her fingers curled around the gun. He loaded another. And he took the silver knife with him, just in case.

“Stay close,” he told her again. If he went out the front door, he had no doubt the not-so-welcome wagon would be waiting, but there could be eyes on the back door, too. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

Good thing it took more than a bullet or two to slow him down.

They crept toward the front door.

“We’re going for the motorcycle,” he said. It was their best shot at freedom. “Run as fast as you can with me. We get on the bike, and we don’t look back, got it?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve got it.”

He braced his shoulders. Made sure to stand in front of her. “Don’t be afraid to fire,” Connor told her.

Then he yanked open that door.

***

Through his night vision binoculars, he saw Connor Marrok yank open the door to that sad little shack. He smiled. “Fill him with silver and take that bastard out.”

Connor thought he was so big and bad, but even the bad asses fell.

“Make sure to only hit Chloe with the tranqs. Remember, do not close in. Stay back until I give the order.” Until Chloe is unconscious.

He licked his lips as anticipation filled him. This was it. His moment. Finally.

The thunder of gunfire ripped through the night. Through those binoculars, he saw Connor’s body jerk, just like a puppet on a string. Blood flew. A woman’s scream echoed in the night.