Charlie

Goddamn.

It nearly killed me to tell Annabel she had to cut and dye her hair. Especially since I haven’t fulfilled my fantasy yet of riding her from behind with a fistful of that dark auburn thickness to hang onto.

But she looks absolutely angelic as a blonde. The deep red played up her personality—she rocked with the large-framed glasses and the dark lipstick. Now she looks like the girl next door. And damn if I don’t want to tie her to the bed and fuck her until she weeps for mercy.

I bang around in the kitchen, trying to satisfy my lust with food. I can’t seem to eat enough.

After a full spaghetti dinner, I’m still hungry for red meat. I’ve already eaten the cans of chili in the cupboards. I pull out a container of spaghetti sauce and eat it straight out of the jar. And let me tell you—it has pathetically few chunks of meat for what’s advertised.

I can’t seem to eat down the heat though. Every day the moon waxes, and I still don’t know what will happen when it’s full.

I’m restless as hell. I want to be outside, running—hunting.

Either that or I need to be pounding into my lovely handler again. Making her scream my name until all hours of the morning.

But that’s not possible.

I rinse the spaghetti jar out and drop my spoon in the sink. “I’m going to go scout around outside,” I mutter to Annabel who emerged from the bathroom with her new look. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Wait—what? Is that code for something? Where are you really going?”

Damn perceptive agents and their detective skills.

I take off my shirt and watch her eyes track my pecs. “It means I’m going for a run. We’ve been cooped up here all day, and I won’t be able to sleep unless I get some exercise.”

“In the dark? Never mind. You probably can see in the dark, too, right?”

If only she knew.

I step outside and strip out of the rest of my clothes behind the cabin. I don’t even have to will myself to shift—it’s like it happens without me even asking. Which makes me wonder if I’d have been able to stop it if I wanted to.

But thoughts are lost as I take off, loping across the soft pine-scented earth, nose to the ground, looking for a scent to follow.

Time slips. Distance and direction are irrelevant. I find a scent that sends thrills coursing through my furry body and take off.

An animal. Deer.

Excitement shudders through me even as my brain screams, Don’t kill Bambi.

Or Bambi’s mother. Whatever.

Too late. I lunge. Attack. Rip out its throat.

The rest is too disgusting to relate.

I’m a goddamn monster.

I lose track of time. Of location. Of identity.

The next thing I know, I’m furious, trying to get to something that’s mine.

Someone or something is keeping me out.

A closed door.

I snarl, throw my body against the door. The cabin shudders under my weight.

A female’s scream tickles a place in my brain. Fear, it signals fear.

But that’s not right. Because that’s my female inside.

Mine.

And I can’t... get... in... to claim her.

A sound scrapes nearby—a window cracking. Her scent grows stronger.

Then another sound that tickles my brain—the cocking of a gun.

The monster recedes, and I realize with horror where I am. What I’m doing.

But before I can leave, Annabel fires.

My own whine pierces the air, and I’m leaping away before my brain gives the command.

Trees blur around me as white-hot pain sizzles in my flank.

Then I’m on the ground. Naked.

A man again.

Jesus, fuck. I almost killed them.

I tried to break into the cabin where Annabel, Sarah, and Grady were.

What would’ve happened if I’d succeeded?

A shudder runs through me.

I don’t know how long I lie on the ground, but when I finally drag myself to my feet, I find the bullet wound isn’t even bleeding anymore. A lump of cold metal appears to be right at the surface. I squeeze the edges of the wound between two fingers, and the bullet pops out.

Huh.

So, healing is a wolf superpower. I rub my forehead as I trudge back in the direction of the cabin. Who knows how far I’ve run away from it.

If Annabel and her sister didn’t still need me, I’d keep right on running, away from civilization and anywhere else I’d do harm.

I’m going to have to figure out a way to lock myself up at night. Keep far away from people.

And I’d better get this damn mission wrapped up before the moon is full. I need to get the hell away from Annabel. Forever.

I’m a danger to her.

I just thank God she knows her way around a pistol. If I threaten her again, she can take me down.

Permanently.

Annabel

I grip the gun with shaking fingers. The CIA couldn’t send a wolf to get me. This isn’t a sci-fi film. It was just some enormous, rabid wolf that must’ve smelled food inside and wanted in.

Still, my heart won’t stop thumping against my ribs, the sound of the gunfire and the wolf’s yelp echoing in my ears.

And Charlie’s still out there.

But he’d know what to do. He’s that kind of guy. He’ll have a weapon on him, or he’ll make one out of a branch or rock. He’s a trained assassin, for God’s sake. I don’t need to worry about him.

As if I could stop though.

Sarah finally gets Grady to sleep, and I’m starting to freak out about Charlie’s long absence and the giant rabid wolf. I pick up the gun.

“Maybe I should go out there.”

“Are you crazy?” Sarah snaps. “That’s how every movie character gets killed.”

“What if Charlie needs help?”

“Then we’d hear something. Right now, I don’t hear anything—man or wolf. So, just—”

The door swings open to reveal Charlie’s figure, head bent to investigate the deep gauges in the door from the wolf’s claws.

“Oh thank God!” I rush for him.

He stiffens, and I try to put on the brakes. I’m probably acting too much like a girlfriend as if we have a relationship. Worrying for his safety probably crossed all kinds of boundaries with him.

I draw up short in front of him, and he deftly relieves me of the gun that’s still in my hand.

“What’s going on?”

“Did you hear the gunfire?”

Charlie’s brows slam down. He shuts the door and locks it.

“What gunfire?” he barks.

“A giant, rabid wolf was trying to get in the cabin. That’s what you see there on the door. I shot him, but he’s probably still out there. I was afraid he’d attack you.”

Charlie’s mouth pulls down in a grim line. “Never worry about me. Are you three safe?”

When I nod, he steps forward. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”

He pulls me into the embrace I was craving, and even though I was resolved to keep my emotional distance, I immediately melt into him. His strong arms are like the safety bars on this rollercoaster ride we’re on. The one that only grows more frightening every minute it continues.

When he pulls away, he has that blank expression on his face. His game face. I’m not sure what it means. “Where did you hit the wolf, Annabel?”

“In the hip,” I admit. “Left flank.”

“Is that what you aimed for?”

I go still. It’s a strange question, almost like he knew what happened back there. A prickle of defensiveness stiffens my spine. “Yes.”

I can hear my basic training arms instructor shouting at me now. Aim to kill or don’t shoot at all. This isn’t television. Don’t shoot their kneecaps when your life’s at stake. If you’re not willing to kill, don’t draw your weapon.

I lift my chin and match Charlie’s stare. I don’t need a lecture from him.

“You know what I’m going to say,” he says quietly, and I swear I hear sympathy in his voice.

I nod.

He touches my face, runs his thumb along my cheekbone. “I’m glad you can handle yourself with a gun,” is all he murmurs, sparing me a lecture.

I flash him a grateful look.

“Go on, get some sleep. We’ll leave before dawn.”

I’m disappointed even though we can’t sleep together, and there’s nothing more to say. He cups my nape and pulls me into him to drop a kiss on my forehead.

I smile faintly at the gesture.

Don’t get used to it.

This adventure with Charlie Dune is a one-off. If I get out of this alive, we’ll be parting when it’s over.

Still, I like the way he makes me feel.

The safety and protection his presence means to me.

No, it’s so much more than that. It’s raw attraction, fascination with his prowess—both mental and physical—and a genuine connection.

But that still doesn’t mean this can go anywhere.