Ensnared by the Werewolf: A Love Bathhouse Monster Romance by Lillian Lark

Author:Lillian Lark [Lark, Lillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub

9

Belinda

Present

Fear and something I can’t quite name flow through my blood as I run. I am afraid but this isn’t a cougar or a bear. My panicking body recognizes what I’m running from, even if my mind hasn’t yet. The pounding of my feet on the ground and the rush of air against my skin are a primal dance I’ve never participated in.

Another howl sounds behind me, closer.

I ignore how the underbrush tears at my tights and the pebbles bruise my feet, my sandals long gone. Something large crashes behind me.

I scream when I trip, but instead of slamming into the ground, I’m caught.

Clawed hands seize me, and familiarity rises past my panic. There’s no time to make sense of anything because we’re still moving at a run. The world blurs as I’m flung upward, over a broad shoulder that jostles me with every loping stride. My fingers dig into a fur-covered back before my brain catches up to the fact that I’ve been snatched. I beat my fists against the back under me.

“Let me go!” My shout is only met by a growl. The light scent of cut cedar has misplaced heat kindling instead of fear.

“Jack?” I ask. It defies logic, but my heart knows I’m right.

We slow when the trees break into a small clearing. I’m tossed to the ground and stumble back, falling on my ass. I barely catch sight of Jack’s “monstrous” form before he flips me onto all fours, one of those giant clawed hands pressing between my shoulder blades, grinding my chest into the dirt.

I struggle, but it’s no use. I’m pinned.

“Jack!” I shout. Annoyance and frustration rush to the surface. And anger.

“Mate.” The word is a growl so deep it’s hard to make it out. Is this his wolf speaking? The primal part of his animal that can’t be separated from a shifter.

“Yes! I know! But you can’t just chase me down like a fucking deer!”

Another growl. “You’re in another male’s territory. His pheromones are everywhere.”

“I know!” I growl back. “He’s my date!”

The silence that falls over us has teeth that tear and rip into me no matter the fact that I’ve done nothing wrong. Jack’s snarl breaks the stillness and has the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

“No! You’re my mate,” he says.

I grit my teeth at him using the m-word again. My anger morphs into fury.

“Why should you care?” I spit. “You’re the one that left me!”

There’s a pause, and the long-fingered hand on my back tenses and relaxes, as if Jack’s struggling.

“It was the right thing to do.” The words are less growly this time.

“No!” I try to lift my chest from the dirt. “I called you over and over again, trying to convince you to be with me. Well, guess what, I’m not trying anymore. I need to move on, and this date is the first of many.”

“I can’t. I can’t let you go.” The growl is back as if the civilized part of him has lost this round.

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