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Heart of the Wolf

Book 9 of the True Mates Generations Series

 

Chapter One

About two years ago …

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Isabelle Anderson flipped her long, dark glossy locks over her shoulder as she turned around toward the source of the voice. Oh God, she thought with a matching mental eye roll.

The man grinning at her was cute, she supposed, but attractive men salivating over her was an everyday occurence. But, she had barely walked past the bouncers and it was starting already. She was not in the mood. Not tonight.

Ugh. Security really needed to be more careful of who they let in. Although Blood Moon was mostly a Lycan club, a couple of humans still tended to wander in, and there really was no reason to keep them out without outing themselves. The world outside didn’t really know about the existence of wolf shifters living among them and it had been that way for centuries.

Punishment from the Lycan High Council for revealing their secret was severe. This guy’s fashion sense and cloying cologne were a bigger crime, she snickered to herself. His distinct lack of scent meant he was definitely human, according to her Lycan senses. Her she-wolf sneered at him, at the audacity that this human dared come near them.

“You’ll have to try much harder than that,” she said in a disinterested voice.

He looked taken aback, obviously thinking she would fall at his feet. Not in that outfit, she thought distastefully. Not even one tastefully classic piece. Did this guy even live in Manhattan? Brooklyn, she guessed. Or Queens. Yikes.

“Did I say pretty?” the man said nervously.  “I meant gorgeous. Like a Goddess from heaven—”

She snorted. “You think I haven’t heard that before?”

The guy made some sound of protest, but she ignored him and made her way to the bar. Thankfully, it wasn’t crowded. It was early yet, not even dinner time, so the club was sparse; usually it was packed wall to wall with young, single, and attractive people, all bumping and grinding to the beat of the current popular dance tune.

As a rule, she didn’t show up to any club before eleven. But, tonight her parents were hosting a dinner for some VIP and pressed her to come. Another boring dinner party where boring people talked about politics or finance. She hadn’t yet decided if she was going, but since she lived in the same building as her parents, she ducked out early before they could nag her about it. Plus, she really could use a drink. Of course, as a Lycan, it took a lot of alcohol to get her drunk, but she did enjoy that short buzz after and just feeling so grown up, ordering a drink at a bar. Speaking of which …

“Can I get a vodka martini?”she said to the bartender.

The bartender chuckled. “Slumming it tonight, Ms. Anderson?”

Her eyes narrowed. Definitely Lycan. Her wolf could sense it. But then again, most of the staff here were shifters. “Excuse me?” He knew who she was. Of course he did. She spent almost every weekend here, plus her father, Grant Anderson, owned this club and he was also the Alpha of New York.

“Why aren’t you at the VIP section?” He nodded at the cordoned-off area at the other end of the dance floor. “You could be having drinks served to you like you usually do, instead of having elbow your way to the bar like the rest of the unwashed masses.”

How dare you, she wanted to scream. The employees here probably gossiped about her all the time. One word about his rudeness and she could have him fired. But, she really didn’t have the energy tonight.  “I didn’t feel like it,” she said with a shrug. “Can you make it a double? And hurry up, will you?” Her nostrils flared and she stared at him.

The humor left his expression. “Coming right up, Ms. Anderson.”

With a disinterested sigh, she took her phone out of her purse. As usual, it was blowing up with notifications from across her social media platforms, probably comments from her last post before she left the house. She had taken a photo of her outfit for the evening, a short white bandeaux dress, white fur coat, five-inch white heels—all couture from head to toe, of course—and posted it online. But sadly, even the hundreds of likes and comments from her followers weren’t enough to cheer her up. Swiping them away, she checked her inbox.

I’m almost there, read the last message from Maxine Muccino, her cousin and best friend, followed by a liberal amount of smiling and sweating emojis. Isabelle had texted Maxine an hour ago to, “get your ass out of the house and meet me at Blood Moon.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.” While Isabelle loved Maxine with all her heart, her cousin was one of those people who texted that they were “around the corner” when really they were just getting out of bed. Which meant she’d be alone for at least another hour.

A strange feeling washed over her and the hairs on the back of neck prickled. It felt like someone was watching her. Which was weird because she was used to people looking at her, but this was different. Before she could figure out who was watching her, the sound of glass clinking on top of the bar caught her attention.

“Here you go.” The bartender nodded at the cocktail glass in front of her.

“Thanks.” She slid a bill at him. “Keep the change.” Not bothering to wait for the guy thank her, she walked away from the crowded bar. But where to go? Nowhere really. So she stood at one of the empty cocktail tables at the edge of the dance floor, set her purse on the top, and sipped at her drink. Maybe I should just go home.

“Oh God.” The thought of spending an evening night by herself in her apartment made her knock back the rest of her drink in one gulp. You’re only twenty-one, she reminded herself. She would rather die than be alone at home like some loser, just because she was heartbroken. He’s just a guy. With a snap of her fingers, she could have any man on his knees, panting after her.

Okay, so maybe Zac Vrost wasn’t just any guy. He was the perfect man—tall, blond and hot, plus he was probably going to inherit a big chunk of the Vrost family fortune, not to mention his father was Beta of the New York clan.

They would have made a gorgeous couple—him, Nick and Cady Vrost’s favorite golden boy, her, the darling youngest daughter of not one, but two Alphas. It should have been a match made in heaven.

At least it was, until Astrid Jonasson ruined it all.

How Zac could have picked that … that … fashion-challenged little nobody was beyond her. Astrid and her family didn’t even rank high in the Lycan hierarchy nor were they long-standing members of the New York clan. She probably wouldn’t know what bronzer was if it hit her in the head and constantly wore grotty second-hand clothing from the Salvation Army.

Yet, Zac picked Astrid. It was like shopping at Zara instead of Prada; or vacationing in Daytona Beach instead of The Maldives; or, she thought with a a shudder, drinking boxed wine instead of champagne.

And they had just gotten married two weeks ago. The thought made her wish she had gotten a second drink.

Of course, the only thing that soothed her ego at losing out to someone who probably couldn’t even pronounce Christian Louboutin was the fact that Zac and Astrid were True Mates. It was something no one can deny. And well, when Maxine asked if she was depressed about losing Zac to Astrid, she laughed it off and told her cousin, “Well, fate intended them to be together? How could I possibly compete with that,” and laughed it off.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. Especially when she had her heart set on her own happy ever after with Zac. It had been so clear in her mind—he would work all day and go to meetings and she could stay home and lunch with the ladies while focusing on her thriving social media modeling career. Maybe she’d start her own charity. Something with dogs or cats or other cute animals. And when she was ready, have a pup or two. I would have looked so cute in maternity clothes and matching mommy-and-me outfits. And once he or she was born, she could foist them off on the nanny and she could work on getting her pre-pregnancy body back.

But now …

I’m young, hot, and every man wants me, she reminded herself. She really needed to stop moping over Zac. He was too old for her anyway. And she was way too young and free to settle down.

Biting her lip, she marched toward the door. The cold blast of air as she stepped outside felt like a cool balm. As a Lycan, her body adjusted to the temperature easily and while she didn’t need to close her fur coat, she did it anyway out of reflex. She was always careful—as all Lycans were—to ensure none of the humans suspected that wolf shifters were living among them. Her father was especially cautious in protecting them from unwanted attention.

Unfortunately that was what they had been clashing about recently—because how was she supposed to amass even more social media followers to advance her career when they wouldn’t let her do any media interviews, photo shoots or magazine covers?

Ugh. Maybe she won’t go to that dinner after all. She checked her phone again. Where the hell was Maxine? If she had her driver, she could have sent him to fetch her. But unfortunately, the Lycan drivers and bodyguards assigned to her were loyal to her father and then he could have easily tracked her down and demanded she be brought to that dinner. Thus, she had to take a—shudder—cab here all by herself and now, she’d have to take another one to leave. But the street was empty and there was no taxi in sight. Ugh, where are these cab drivers when you need them?

Suddenly, that feeling from earlier in the club came back. It wasn’t just the hair on the back of her neck that stood up, but also on her arms. Her wolf too, went very still.

Pivoting on her heel, she turned around. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized someone really was watching her.  A tall figure was casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking straight at her. A unknown thrill pulsed down her spine as they locked gazes. Then her wolf did something unusual—it leaned its ears forwards, front paws extending, then let out an excited yip.

Surprise flashed across the man’s face for a brief second, meaning he sensed her wolf too. Lycan, then. But who was he?

As the daughter of the Alpha, she knew most of the Lycans in New York—at least, those worth knowing anyway. But she would have definitely remembered meeting this man before. His hair seemed to have all shades of brown and blonde mixed together. Like most Lycans, he was tall and well-built, but his face—it was like the face of an angel, half-covered with a beard that wasn’t overly thick, but enough to give him a dangerous, rough edge. Arrogantly, uncommonly handsome, pretty even. But there was definitely some bad boy vibes coming from him—at least from what she could tell from the two nose studs marring his almost perfect face, not to mention the well-scuffed riding boots, tight jeans, even tighter shirt, and the leather jacket he wore. Wow, he wasn’t even trying to pass for human in the middle of winter.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night, Princess, or are you going to say hello?”

The deep, gravelly voice sent heat straight to her lower stomach and her wolf yowled. She, however, did not appreciate his crassness. Angel? What was she thinking. Fallen angel, maybe. Lucifer himself, who clawed his was up from hell.

With a short harumpph, she turned around and fished her phone out of her pocket. I should have downloaded Uber before I left. Or had Maxine teach me how to use it. Hopefully a cab would pass by soon and she could be anywhere but here.

“Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to stare at people, then ignore them when they call you out?”

He moved so swiftly she didn’t even realize he was right behind her until she felt the warmth of his breath by her ear. She stiffened her spine and turned her head up at him. However, when she stared up into his eyes, all thought left her head.

His eyes—were they green or gold? She couldn’t quite say. Maybe both. Gold in the center with large flecks of green. Her knees went weak and for a second, he seemed taken aback again, but he composed himself quickly. Much quicker than she did because she stumbled backward.

A strong, muscled arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up against him. An involuntary gasp escaped her mouth as she was pressed up against a warm, hard body. Though she was wearing her highest heels, her face was still at level with his chest. When she took in a deep breath, she got a whiff of his masculine scent—rain, musk, and leather. A shock went through her as an unfamiliar sensation course through her veins. She’d never felt anything like it before, but it was something she could only describe as hunger. But not for food.

“Let go of me.” Unfortunately she said it in a much breathier tone than she’d intended. “Please.”

Gold-green eyes burned with challenge, but his grip loosened. “Whatever you want, princess.”

She disentangled herself from him, but it didn’t stop her heart from thudding wildly against her rib cage. Her wolf yowled unhappily at losing contact. What the hell was going on?

Straightening her shoulders and pulling her coat tighter around herself, she looked up at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. And I’ve met most of the New York and New Jersey Lycans.” Usually, Lycans from one clan couldn’t travel into another’s without permission from the Alpha. But, since her mother was also the New Jersey Alpha, members of the two clans enjoyed free travel between territories.

He grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, exposing a set of defined abs. Her mouth went dry as a desert as she observed the taught, golden skin of his stomach and the sprinkling of hair disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. A chuckled knocked her out of her daze and she felt heat flood in her cheeks.

A golden brow quirked up. “Had enough?”

She sound around, but not before she noticed what he had been trying to show her—the wolf tattoo over his hip. So, he was a Lone Wolf. Lone Wolves were a special type of Lycan clan—or rather, they lacked a clan and territory. Most were nomadic, though some stayed put in neutral territory. They were, however, allowed to move within territories as long as they announced themselves should anyone ask them why they were in said territory or meet an Alpha.

“Sorry,” he said scornfully. “You know, for getting my grubby Lone Wolf hands on ya.”

Her heart clenched for whatever his situation was in, but outrage bubbled within her. “Excuse me?” She whirled around. While admittedly, she could be particular about what she wore or where she went to, she would never think less of anyone who had no control over what they were. “Do you think I’m one of those Lycans who look down at Lone Wolves? Just because I’m part of a clan doesn’t mean I discriminate against those who aren’t.There are many reasons someone might choose to go Lone Wolf or more often than not—not have any choice at all, so I wouldn’t be prejudice against someone who might have gone through terrible circumstances.  I’m sorry if you’ve had a bad experience with other clans, but you don’t know New York and you don’t know me.”

He seemed taken aback. “Whoah, princess, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He put his hands up in a defensive stance. “I didn’t mean to get you all riled up.”

Mist formed as she blew out a breath. She didn’t mean to rant at him like that, but she hated it when people thought she was shallow and mean. Okay, she could be superficial sometimes, but she wasn’t completely self-centered. Besides, one thing she hated was discrimination. Her own Grandpa Noah had been a Lone Wolf before he settled down with the Shenandoah clan and he was the nicest person she knew. “It’s all right,” she said with a toss of her hair. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Saw you leaving. Wondering where you were off to.”

So he had been inside the club. Had be been checking her out since then? “Nowhere,” she said glumly. “At least not until I can get a cab.”

“It’s colder than a well-digger’s butt in January out here. Cabs are probably gonna be pretty scarce for a while,” he drawled.

“Where are you from?” she asked. “Your accent … southern?”

He shrugged. “From here and there. You know us Lone Wolves. Anyway, I should—”

“Give me ride?” It was an impulse, one she couldn’t stop. Nor was she sorry for asking him.

A blonde brow lifted up. “Excuse me?”

“A ride.”

The corners of his mouth curled up. “Are you sure you’re old enough for my kind of ride, princess?”

Oh God. She didn’t even realize … ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks, she straightened her spine. “On your bike,” she clarified. “And I’m twenty-one.”

“How did you know I have one?” He challenged.

She pointed her chin down at his shoes. “My grandfather had the same kind of boots. He rides a Softail.”

“Does he now?”

“So, are you just going let me freeze here instead of offering me a ride home?” Oh God, what was she thinking asking a total stranger for a ride? On his motorcycle? Did the bartender put more than vodka into that drink? Or was it that yummy masculine scent driving her wild making her impulsive.

“You ain’t exactly dressed for riding,” he pointed out. As his gaze swept over her from head to toe, she felt like her body might spontaneously combust.

Oh dear.

Despite what most people thought of her, she wasn’t exactly … experienced. Sure, she’d made out with a couple of guys, maybe even had some of them feel her up, but the actual deed … well, that was a whole other story. No one just ever felt right for her. Sure, she’d had a couple of puppy-love boyfriends back in high school, but long term wasn’t her thing. “Collect and select,” she’d always joked with Maxine. Besides, she couldn’t even choose which shoes to match with her outfit, how was she supposed to choose someone to sleep with for the first time?

But this man … one look from him and she was ready to explode and she now realized that what she was feeling was real, hot-blooded lust for this man.

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” she said, doing her best to disguise the tremor in her voice. “Of course, if you can’t manage one female riding with you, then I supposed I could walk home.”

His gaze pierced right into her, then the corners of his mouth turned up. “All right. Well I can’t let a poor, defenseless lady go home by herself.” He motioned with his head to follow him, then started walking away from her. “Come on.”

Oh her she-wolf was practically panting after him. Stop acting like some … hussy, she told it, though she followed the man anyway, teetering on her heels as she attempted to keep pace. Thank God he stopped about half a block away, right in front of a shiny black motorcycle parked on the street. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask her anything about bikes because aside from Grandpa Noah’s Harley, she had no frickin’ clue about motorcycles.

He offered her a spare helmet after he put his on. “Here you go.”

“Wait.”

“What?” he asked impatiently.

“I don’t even know your name.”

His expression was pure exasperation and he opened his mouth, then closed it quickly. “It’s Ransom.”

Ransom. It fit him so well and she didn’t know why. “I’m Isabelle.”

He shoved the helmet into her hands. “Put it on, princess.”

As she strapped the helmet to her head and secured the chin strip, she watched as Ransom swung his long legs over the bike and straddle it between his thighs. Despite the chill in the air, a bead of sweat formed between her breasts.

“Well, are you comin’ or not?” he asked, head cocked to one side. “You’re not chickening out on me, are ya?”

“No.” She took two steps forward, trying to figure out how the hell she was going to get on that bike. Should have thought this through, Isabelle, she scolded herself. When he gave her an impatient glare, she shrugged and hiked her dress high up her thighs. She couldn’t help but smile smugly as his eyes widened and nostrils flared, before turning away and bending his head down to check on something on his handlebars. Hah. While she wasn’t experiences, she wasn’t blind; she knew when someone wanted her.

Thankfully, she was able to swing her leg over the back of the bike and climb up on top, then settled behind him. She crossed her arms over her chest and drummed her fingers impatiently, waiting for him to go.

“Do you wanna fall off or what?” He asked without looking behind.

“Huh?”

“Grab on, princess.”

“Grab on?”

“Yeah. To me.”

“Right.” Gingerly, she laid her palms on his broad back.

He snorted. “Not like that, princess.” His hands grabbed hers and then wound her arms around his waist and pulled her forward. “Like this.”

Electricity shot up her hand from where he touched her. Rather, where he was touching her because his hands were still wrapped over hers. His palms were so warm and rough, such a contrast to her own. He stiffened, then relaxed as he held on to the handlebars. “Where do you live?”

Pressing her cheek against his back, she inhaled the scent from his well-worn leather jacket, which was mixed in with his own natural smell. “Have you been to New York before?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“How about I give you a tour first? Anywhere you’ve always wanted to see? The Empire State Building? Rockefeller Center? Times Square?”

“How about … the Brooklyn Bridge?”

Her nose wrinkled. “The Brooklyn Bridge?”

“Yeah. Heard there was a park on the other side.”

She smirked. “Only hipsters go to Brooklyn and you don’t seem like the hipster type to me.”

He shrugged. “Just thought it would have a nice view of the city.”

“Oh. I actually haven’t been before. All right then. Let’s go to the Brooklyn Bridge. Do you know how to get there?”

He nodded. “Hang on tight.”

She did as he said, and gripped him tighter as the bike roared to life and they sped on. Despite the freezing wind on the exposed bits of her skin, she wasn’t cold and it wasn’t just her Lycan metabolism keeping her warm. Ransom had slipped her arms under his jacket, and around his waist so she could feel every bump and muscle on his abdomen. Oh how she wanted to run her fingers across them or maybe even slip her hand under his shirt to feel his bare skin.

Soon, they were crossing over the bridge. She held her breath, not because of the cold or how fast they were going because she’d never been out here at night. Or maybe she had, like when she was coming from or going to the airport, but it had always been in the back of a limo and she never paid attention outside. The lights above them were lit up and reflected off the dark waters of the East River. 

As they finished crossing, the motorcycle turned right into the off ramp before veering back toward the water. They slowed down when they reached a side street and stopped inside the park, where they had a view of Manhattan. Ransom turned the engine off, and kicked the stand on.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured as she got off the bike and straightened her dress. “I was born and raised here but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the city like this.” All the tall buildings of Lower Manhattan were lit up, and the moon looked huge behind them.

“Gorgeous,” he said.

The words made her shiver, and when she looked behind him, realized he was looking at her. The blush on her cheeks made her turn away. Oh God, she was acting like some nerd. Ransom seemed so much more worldly compared to her. He was probably around Lucas’s age, she guessed. Or Zac, who was a few months older than her brother. It seemed so … exciting, being with an older man, and she had to act cooler or else he might think she was some dweeb.

“Do you want to have a closer look?” He nodded at the boardwalk.

“Sure.”

They walked over, the silence enveloping them with each step. It was funny how she was used to the noise of New York City that out here it was almost deafening. When they reached the boardwalk, Ransom planted his hands on the railing and looked straight ahead, his brows furrowing together.

“You look like you’re in deep thought.” She moved closer to him impulsively. “What are you thinking of?”

He turned to her. “Nothing you should know about.”

“Oh?” She lifted a brow. “Why not?”

“Because it’s inappropriate.”

Now she was even more intrigued. Turning to him, she planted her hands on her hips. “Inappropriate for whom?”

“For princesses like you.”

“Maybe I’m not what you think I am.”

She thought he would ignore her or maybe even turn away, but to her surprise, he turned to face her and took a half step forward. His delicious scent filled her nostrils and drove her wolf crazy. Her heart pounded against her chest as he lifted his hand to caress her cheek. She barely had time to gasp when he bent his head and slotted his lips to hers.

This wasn’t her first kiss, not by any means, but this felt like a first … something. First time to feel like the whole world slowed down just for them. First time blood was pounding through her veins in excitement from the mere touch of his lips. First time she wanted anyone this bad.

His hand moved on her neck, digging his fingers through her hair to pull her head back  and at the same time, his tongue slid against her sealed lips to deepen the kiss. She didn’t need more convincing as she opened her mouth, reveling in the taste and smell of him. His tongue touched the edge of her teeth, exploring as he pushed in deeper. His other hand, meanwhile, snaked around her waist and pulled, their bodies snapping together just right—a perfect fit.

The deep growl that rumbled from his chest made her press her thighs together as desire shot straight to her core. Her hand slid up to his chest, the wild thumping of his heart against his chest strangely satisfying. He shifted his hips and when she felt a bulge brush against her stomach, she groaned and clung to him, her hands fisting around the thin fabric of his shirt. She arched against him, not knowing what she wanted, but only that she needed to be as close to him as possible.

His body froze against her and he released her mouth, making her whimper pathetically at the loss. For a brief second, panic crossed his face, but then that cynical, handsome mask slid back into place. His hands dropped to his sides.

Her wolf whined and howled in protest, but she quickly recovered, smoothing her hands down her dress. Act cool. It would be mortifying to let him know how much the kiss shook her, especially now that he seemed totally unaffected. “That was nice,” she said nonchalantly.

She expected him react with outrage, like most guys when they realized they weren’t getting farther than a kiss. To her surprise, the corner of his lips turned up. That smile, combined with the cynicism in his green-gold eyes was a devastating combination. “Sure. Nice.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “How about the ride home?”

A loud chime, followed by several successive ones, saved her the trouble of trying to find a witty reply. Grabbing her phone from her purse, she saw multiple messages on her notifications as Maxine was blowing up her phone.

I’m here!

Where are you??

The VIP tables are empty!

The bartender said you left! Where did you go??

Rolling her eyes, she tapped off a quick message to Maxine telling her to stay put. “That’s my best friend. She’s looking for me.” She sighed. “I should get back to Blood Moon before she reports me missing or something. Can you give me a ride back there instead?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

They walked to his bike, and soon they were on the way back to Manhattan. She clung to him, not too tight, but she couldn’t help but enjoy herself as she closed her eyes,  pressed up against his strong back, her cheek resting on the buttery soft leather of his jacket.

It seemed impossible, this whole scenario. Never in a million years would she have thought that she would feel so attracted to someone in an instant—and someone like Ransom. He was magnetic, and all she wanted to do was be near him all the time. Her wolf too, growled with pleasure.

A gasp escaped her mouth and it was a good thing she was clinging so tight to him or else she would have fallen off. This instant attraction … could it be possible that …

The bike slowed down and the engine sputtering to a stop interrupted her thoughts. She shook her head mentally, though her stomach flipped excitedly at the thoughts that had raced through her mind.

“We’re here,” he announced.

Reluctantly, she let go of him and hopped off the bike. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked when he didn’t moved.

He shook his head. “Not really my scene.”

“But you said you were already in there,” she pointed out. “C’mon, I’ve got a table and bottle service.”

He chuckled. “It’s all right, princess, go ahead and meet your little friends. I’ll be fine.”

“But—” Her mouth snapped shut. Surely an older guy like him wouldn’t want to be around some whiny, clingy girl. Her wolf scratched at her, not happy at the developing situation. Cool your jets now. “All right. Do you have a phone?”

“A what?”

“Cell phone. You know, this little device you carry around where you can call—”

“Yeah, I got one.”

She held her hand out expectantly and raised a brow at him. His brows snapped together before realization hit him and he handed her the device from his pocket. Tapping her number into the phone, she added herself as a contact on his phone, putting her name as “Isabelle Brooklyn Bridge” cheekily. “There,” she said as she gave him back the phone. “Text me if you plan to stick around New York.”

“Don’t you want my number?” he asked.

She grinned at him before turning on her heel and sashayed toward the entrance. Oh no, she didn’t text guys first. They texted her. And if her suspicions were true, then she wouldn’t have to wait too long for him to contact her.

Despite her she-wolf’s protests and whines, she managed to get back inside Blood Moon past the line of people waiting to get inside. Her cousin was already by the entrance, waiting for her.

“Isabelle!” Maxine’s shriek was loud enough to pierce the music filling the club. “Where have you been?”

Her body practically vibrated with excitement. “Oh Maxine, you’ll never believe it …”

Heart of the Wolf

Releases May 20, 2020

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