Page 7 of Gone Hunting

“No. I meanchange.” I cock my head. “You don’t know a lot about us, do you?”

“I know enough.”

“Oh, yeah?” I grin. “Like what?”

Her large eyes blink back at me. “Like you’re strong and lethal.”

My smile vanishes. We kill those who threaten us and the world. But that’s not what she wants to hear. She’s scared. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I promise.

Her gaze softens with relief. It’s not a lot. Just enough for me to think she might believe me. I wait for her to say something, anything, rubbing my nose when the wind picks up and the stench from that festering animal whips past my nose. The smell is awful, but it doesn’t stand a chance against this female’s sweet aroma. When she doesn’t speak, I realize I have to.

I try to keep my voice casual and unthreatening. “Wolves, allweresreally,changeform around each other all the time,” I explain. “Our beasts tend to be two to three times our human size. When you tear through clothes like we do, it doesn’t leave a lot of room for modesty.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she says, her voice strangely innocent for a predator. “For your kind, I mean. But please understand, it’s not something I’m accustomed to.”

I want her to keep talking. It doesn’t take a genius to see she wants to remain silent. “You said you got zapped here,” I remind her. I take another whiff of her scent, trying to zone in on her emotions and figure out what she’s thinking. All it does is warm my body further, flushing my skin. I clear my throat. “What did you mean by that?”

“It means I don’t belong,” she says.

The scent of sadness permeates the air between us. She doesn’t just mean she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t feel like she fits anywhere.

My wolf whines. He doesn’t like her sad and neither do I.

I try to smile. “I’m Aric. Aric Conner. But I guess you already know that.”

She tilts her chin and blinks back at me. “Why would I know that?” she asks.

Heat creeps up my neck. “You said you’ve heard of me.”

“No . . . I meant I’ve heard of werewolves. That they exist. I’ve scented them around in New Jersey and came across a few. They weren’t exactly friendly.”

“No kidding,” I mutter.

“Excuse me?”

Her brow crinkles. Whoa. She’s really cute. I drag my hand through my hair, giving myself a moment to gather the confidence I first had when I found her. “What I meant was, New Jersey kind of sucks.”

“Mm. Does it?” she asks.

“I don’t mean you suck. I just mean your state sucks.”

If I had my socks near me, I’d ram them in my mouth.

“You have a problem with New Jersey, oh, naked boy crouching in a creek?” she fires back.

By now, I should be the one trying to hide. Instead, I laugh. Call it humiliation or call it something else. “Yes, and it’s a river.” I smirk. “You know what they say. The only thing good about being from New Jersey is beingfromNew Jersey.”

She returns my smirk. It looks way better on her. “For someone whose idea of a good time is streaking through the woods and scratching behind his ears, you’re pretty judgmental,” she teases.

I chuckle. “I also have mad tracking skills.”

She laughs a little, though she seems surprised by the sound. “Is that so?”

I grin, meeting her gaze through the thick brush. “I found you, didn’t I?”

It’s there, I see it, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips and casting a shimmer across her irises. “I suppose you did, Aric.”

My smile dissolves at the way she says my name, the warmth my shyness initially spurred spreading through my chest. What is she doing to me? Is it magic? That same magic that built that invisible wall I crashed into?

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