Rosemary had to cover her mouth. The wolves are going to eat that human? I have to do something! But what? Cause a distraction? Yes, yes! Better to provoke the wolf to come running after her than to let him … wait … what is happening?
The answer to all these questions came in the form of a porterhouse steak, bloody. The fight or flight feeling dissipated, but Rosemary still trembled in fear that the ravenous wolf might take that man’s arm off. “There you go, Scraps. Some asshole sent that one back to the kitchen, said it was overcooked. Can you believe people? ‘Least someone’s enjoying it.”
To her astonishment, this man in a kitchen uniform did not seem at all terrified by this canine—not a dog, but a true, outsized wolf. He had named him. He had named him the kind of name you give to a mutt from the animal shelter.
She watched as her wolf devoured the meat, even receiving a few scratches behind the ear from the man. He then proceeded to lick off the man’s fingers for good measure before padding off down the alleyway, on to the next meal.
Gobsmacked, she followed behind once all humans were clear of the alleyway. When she caught up with her beast, she found him at the spot where she should have guessed he would go all along—his father’s chicken joint.
Rosemary made the mistake of watching from an entire city block away, peaking around the corner next to the back exit of one of the seedier bars in this part of town. She realized this too late. By the time the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, someone — someone Normal, reeking of bottom-shelf booze, and twice her size — was towering over her, backing her up against the damp brick wall.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing back here by yourself?”
Rosemary, more peeved than afraid, lifted her chin. “None of your business. You can move along now.” She studied his predatory face, eyes soupy from too much to drink, but still assessing her body. He leaned in, exhaling his bourbon all over her. She whispered a warning. “You should go. Now. My boyfriend will tear you a new asshole if he sees you.”
The man looked up and down the alleyway, and she followed his eyes to where Ash was helping himself to a bucket of chicken. All that was visible in the lamplights was a raised fluffy tail. Could have been a common stray from where they stood. “I don’t see any boyfriend. I suppose next you’re going to tell me he’s a linebacker.”
Rosemary shook her head, carefully deciding what to do next. She could invoke her daddy, but that would mean little to someone like this, who looked like a tourist. She knew what the solution was. She had to call on the cat. One powerful swipe of her claws could scare him away. She had to be careful, though. If she so much as made a peep, she would summon the wolf. Apart from that, he would sense her pheromones nearby as soon as he had a full enough belly. She was about to issue another warning when the stranger grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head against the wall. She let out a loud yelp, automatically. That was all it took.
What happened next was so fast, she barely had time to register the grisliest incident she had ever witnessed in person. It was all fangs, fur, snarls, and blood. The air crackled with the adrenaline of the wolf.
The man was on the ground, howling in pain and shock. Ash had the grip of a pit bull at the man’s throat, and he would have killed him if Rosemary had not reflexively screamed, causing a couple of bouncers to come rushing outside. Shouting. Someone calling 9-1-1. Someone yelling about calling animal control. More people spilling outside. Women screaming. The man on the ground gasping for breath and holding his throat.
Rosemary stumbled away from the scene and ran around the corner of the building to catch her breath. The wolf had sprung away from his victim, but then paused and locked his ice-blue eyes on hers when he reached the corner where she stood.
She recalled what he had told him. That she wouldn’t like the wolf. That he would not clearly remember what he had done while he was shifted. But this moment was different. It was only a flash, but she saw recognition in those eyes. He knew her.
Chapter Thirteen
Ash
He knocked on her door until his knuckles were raw.
“Baby let me in, we need to talk.”
She didn’t answer.
The wolf had tormented him all night after the attack. Not because of the injuries Ash had caused. That asshole who thought he could put his hands on Rosemary? He would live. No, the wolf was tormented because he had recognized her. The human inside could see her, and now that he had shifted back into his human form in the early morning hours, he remembered every detail.
The worst part was the way she had looked at him. Like he was a monster. Because that’s what he was. He was a simple, territorial creature who scrounged the city for scraps. All night after that encounter, he had roamed the streets, waiting, remembering, thinking, torturing himself, wondering what she
