Page 8 of Drew

Zelda let out what had to be an exaggerated gasp. “Blasphemy! Why on earth would you do a thing like that?”

Alyssa laughed. “I might not be here long.”

“All the more reason to grab on and enjoy the ride for however long it lasts.” She seized Alyssa’s shoulder again, directing her gaze to her own. “You only get one life, child. Enjoy the hell out of it.”

After smiling kindly at Zelda, Alyssa took a sip from her glass.

“Seriously, girl, enjoy it. Preferably with a well-muscled hunk of a man who knows the proper way to fuck a woman is by ensuring she has more orgasms than him.”

Alyssa choked and slugged herself in the chest to dislodge the liquid that had gone down the wrong way. “What? Did you really just say that?”

Shaking her head slightly, Zelda gave her a look resembling pity. “I can tell you haven’t had enough fun in your life. You’ve been isolated. Now, whether that’s by choice or because you’re running from something, I’m not sure, but a quick look around this room and I know, based on your art alone, that you live on the outside looking in. That—” she pointed across the room to the Blood Moon “—that you painted with feeling. Grab hold of that feeling and that man, and ride him for all it’s worth. One shot is all you get.”

Gulping, Alyssa searched for an escape from the conversation, then she noticed a couple across the room trying to get her attention. They were looking at her wagon wheel painting. Indicating the couple, she took a few steps away. “I need to go.”

Zelda grumbled. “Fine, but I swear, baby girl, you need to learn how to live.”

Those words resonated, finding their way into her soul. She needed to live, but she had to do it safely and on her terms. Could Drew be a real distraction, or would he be the reason she fled this town?

She pondered the question as she helped the couple and then discussed several other paintings with interested buyers. Mitch never showed up, but countless times Zelda would pop over, and the more time she spent with the woman, the more she wondered if Zelda might be the reason she’d have to leave town.

Zelda had already taken an interest in Alyssa, giving her a place to stay and helping her grow her business, but if she crossed into Alyssa’s love life, she’d get too close. The last thing she needed was someone digging around in her private life.

She had secrets that would put celebrity sex tapes to shame; that would eclipse the latest Big Foot sighting. She was a freak, and no one could ever find out.

Three Hours Later…

Shrugging out of her coat, Alyssa tossed it on the driest patch of dirt beneath the tree with the least amount of snow. She hadn’t gone for a run in over a week, but after talking with Drew, she finally knew the best spot to go for a trek in her new town.

Wildlings.

A quick Google search had told her all she needed to know about the facility. She knew where the buildings were, what types of animals they housed, and how many staff members worked there—and that at midnight, no one would be around. No one would find her at the back of the property, where the forest bordered a country road.

Once the show had finished, and after a long chat with Zelda, Alyssa could finally leave. She’d raced home and shed her fancy wear for baggy sweats, a hoodie, and thick socks. Then she was back in the car before the heater had time to cool.

Leaving her car stranded on the country road, she’d left prints in the snow as she trudged up a steep hill to the first trees.

Smiling up at the moon, she took a deep breath of cool, crisp air.

The snow had stopped but left the ground white, fresh, and sparkling in the moonbeams. The night was silent, the breeze slight.

Anticipation, pride, and something else, arousal perhaps—since meeting Drew, she seemed to be in an eternal state of arousal. It coursed through her. She’d been looking forward to a good long run for days, and now she could claim tonight as a celebration. She’d sold seven paintings and had an offer on the Blood Moon, and she’d rejected it, unable to part with the piece just yet.

Pulling off her hoodie, she left it on top of her coat, exposing her bare breasts to the frigid February air. Soon she wouldn’t have to worry about the goosebumps coating her arms. She tugged off her boots, placing her car keys inside one, along with her socks, before adding her sweats and panties to the growing pile of clothing.

Shivering, with her feet bare in the snow, she rubbed her arms.

The light from the moon highlighted her skin and caused her soul to relax.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the star-studded sky before willing her body to contort.

Seconds later, her muscles shifted, her bones changed and realigned, and her skin became coated in thick, dark fur. She let out a howl that helped ease the confusion and sexual awakening that had consumed her of late.

Happy and carefree, she ran between the trees, content that no one would discover her secret—that she was a werewolf.

Chapter Three

“Drew. Drew!”

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