By the time he had crossed the room and left the Pack Lodge, Kenai Tanner had picked up a quartet of men, so bulky as to be almost square.

It looked to me like Tanner was powerful enough to take care of himself, but the heir to the Kenai Pack did not go anywhere without bodyguards in tow. He was a target for other packs, who might kidnap him and hold him to ransom, or just kill him to expose the weakness of the Kenai - and presumably cause his father some modicum of grief. The enmity between the packs had grown under King, a man with his grandfather's taste for expansion and a bloodlust that was all his own. King could not have seen the point in peace if Mahatma Gandhi had sat down and explained it to him point by point - it gained a Pack Leader nothing. It meant that his heirs - for as long as they remained his heirs - were targets, but it also meant that other packs were probably too scared to take them, for fear of King's retribution.

I clung to the shadows as Tanner and his guards headed away from the Lodge in the direction of Heir's House. Surreptitiously following humans is tricky, surreptitiously following werewolves with their superior hearing and sense of smell is a fucking nightmare. I had already slipped off my heels to prevent their loud clacking on the ground from giving me away, but deep in werewolf territory, the smell of a part-wolf stood out like a sore thumb. I was forced, therefore, to follow at extreme distance and with extreme care. My new dress didn't help much, either; I had chosen something in midnight blue, in case of this eventuality, but still, the girl in the ball gown does not blend in.

Hanging back at a corner, I watched the little group come to a stop. Tanner seemed to be having some discussion with his bodyguards, his gestures firm and authoritative. Reluctantly, but unable to disobey, the guards left him, going their own way while Tanner walked on, no longer towards Heir’s House.

This was just getting odder. Leaving the party had been odd, dismissing the guards, more so, and now where the hell was he going? I set off again in pursuit, trying to maintain the balance between surveillance and not being seen. I unfolded a map of the city in my mind, trying to figure out where Tanner might be heading, but nowhere obvious sprung to mind. He seemed to be going into the most unobserved areas of Kenai territory, those places you didn't go without a gun, loaded with silver bullets. The streets narrowed to lanes and Tanner began to cut between the buildings using the still narrower alleyways.

Tracking him through this rat's nest became harder and harder and I was forced to get closer and move faster. I waited for him to reach the end of the alley and then ran along it as fast as I could to get a glimpse of where he had gone next. It was the only way, but sooner or later, I seemed doomed to lose him. Which made it no less frustrating when it finally happened.

Reaching the end of the latest alley, I peered out cautiously but saw no sign of my quarry. I had lost him, and looking for him around here was likely to wind me up in a world of shit.

I pulled my shoes back on to head back, when a growl reverberated from behind me.

I spun about to find Tanner behind me, but now changed. His handsome face was covered in black fur, his jaw thrust forward in an almost snout, displaying his prominent fangs. The sleeves of his shirt had split where his arms had broadened, and thick, coarse hair burst through the splits, while the buttons had popped off to display the broad hairy chest of the werewolf. He snapped a threatening snarl at me.

I belted him across the face with my clutch, hard enough to make his head turn.

I think he was expecting a different reaction from the frightened girl all on her own, but I'd been dealing with werewolves my whole life and I know the first key to fighting them is to let them know you're not scared.

As Tanner's head turned back to face me, it became human again, shifting seamlessly from form to form.

"Come here." He made a grab for my arm, catching my wrist, I twisted, surprising him again with my strength. I stamped on his foot, bare from when he had changed, and he cried out in pain but didn't let go of me, flinging me back against the wall of the alley I had just come out of and pressing me there, his hard body up against mine.

"Feisty little one, aren't you?"

"You've no idea."

Perhaps it was wrong, but, even in this situation, the feel of him against me sent a thrill of desire coursing through me.

Which didn't stop me from biting his knuckle as hard as I could until he let one of my hands go with a grunt.

Moving like lightning and thanking God I had chosen the loose dress for easy movement, I twisted a leg around his and sent him tumbling to the ground with me on top of him. I didn't stay there long, he flipped me onto my back with easy strength, trying to pin me to the ground. But I, again, used his strength and size against him - those judo classes paying off. We rolled over and back again on the ground, each fighting for supremacy, his strength dominating me, my skill out-foxing him.

I've fought with werewolves all my professional life and there are a few tricks you can use to put them out of commission before running as fast as you can because, bottom line is; they can turn wolf and tear you apart. But he hadn't turned. And I hadn't run.

Maybe this was a game that neither of us was keen to end.

Finally, I got a hand free while I was on top of him and, leaning back from him, I delivered a sharp slap to his handsome face.

He stopped fighting back, just lying on the ground beneath me. This would normally have been where I ran but, instead, I stared down at him. He put out his tongue to touch it to where I had cut his lip, tasting the blood.

"That wasn't very nice."

"Well, neither is creeping up on someone."

"You were following me. In this part of town, that's not a wise thing to do. Especially after…"

He trailed off, clearly about to mention the recent assassination attempt on his father. I didn’t want him thinking I was investigating him, but him thinking I was there to murder him was even less ideal if I was hoping to make it out of this encounter alive.

I swallowed hard as I wracked my brain to come up with an innocent-sounding excuse that would also be believable.

I decided to play it coy and appeal to his vanity.

"Haven't you ever been followed by a woman before?"

He shrugged as best he could from his position on the ground. "By women, yes. I've very seldom been followed by foolhardy hellcats."

"I don't know why not," I murmured, a pulse of need roaring to life between my thighs. “Hellcats are known for going after what they want.”

His eyes went hot with need and his nostrils flared. "They aren't the only ones."

I don't know which of us moved first, but I know that if he hadn't, I would have.

Our lips crushed together as he rolled me over onto my back once more, and this time I made no effort to stop him.

My brain sent a somewhat half-hearted message to point out that I was on my back under a werewolf, who was also a murder suspect, in one of the roughest and most werewolf-friendly parts of town, but my brain wasn't calling the shots tonight. Besides, what easier way to get him to believe that my motives were purely sexual than by putting my proverbial money where my mouth was.

Hell, who was I kidding? In that moment, I wanted him like I’d never wanted another male in my life.

Maybe I was still under the influence of the wolf pheromones from earlier.

Maybe the six-month dry spell had caught up with me.

Or maybe it was simply that Tanner was the best-looking, most desirable male I had ever met, but whatever it was, this was going to happen, and I was going to enjoy every wicked moment of it.