Page 21 of Hollow Moon

He wanted to explain to her that they must have bonded, but he couldn’t find the words—not yet. And he wasn’t going to rush into telling her she’d just made love with a werewolf. Yet he knew he would have to reveal his true self to her—soon.

He wanted to cling to this time together with her, yet he had to get back to Decorah and tell them about the drug lab.

But not yet.

They lay on the open sleeping bag, both of them almost too worn out to move. But he loved simply being next to her. When he found her hand, she turned it over and knitted her fingers with his, holding on to him as they drifted on the afterglow of extraordinary lovemaking.

“You should sleep,” she murmured.

“I should keep watch.”

“Why?”

“No telling how far we are from that lab.”

“I think we’re okay. I haven’t seen anyone else since I got here. Only you.”

He allowed her to lull him as he fought drowsiness. The ordeal of the day before had taken a lot out of him. He fought sleep, and maybe he even drifted off for a few minutes. Then his hand jerked from her grasp when his wolf’s ears picked up a sound from outside. “Someone’s coming.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“You will.”

He saw the moment when she became aware of the sound. He heard someone fooling with the camping equipment she’d left outside.

Knox didn’t know who it was, but he wasn’t going be caught naked in here. He was reaching for his pants when a voice called out, “Maggie, is that you?”

He raised up, keeping his head to the side as he looked out the mesh window of the tent and saw a man approaching the campsite. Two more men hung back on the other side of the fire pit.

It was three of the bastards from the drug operation. One was Kyle, the weasel- faced, greasy-haired lowlife who had first captured him. Another was the guy named Lane who had seemed to be in charge. And the third was the man who had stayed in the background and let the others do the talking before marching Knox to the shed. He was the fellow who had just spoken now.

A shiver traveled over Knox’s skin. “He called you by name. You know him?”

“Of course. It’s my brother, Campbell.”

CHAPTER 7

“Your brother!”

Every muscle in Knox’s body tensed. After the explosive lovemaking with Maggie, he had been floating on a cloud of euphoria. Suddenly he came crashing down to earth like a tree struck by an avalanche. He had thought he was bonding with this woman—and she’d just casually told him she was mixed up with the men who had drugged and shot him.

He reacted purely on instinct—reaching for the camp knife that he’d seen lying at the side of the tent.

Her eyes widened in fear. Turning away from her, he slashed a slit in the back.

She watched him in shock as she whispered, “What are you doing?”

“They’re not going to capture me again.”

“You’re having another delusion.”

That stopped him for a moment. Was he? He didn’t know for certain, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to take a chance that this wasn’t the real thing.

Working feverishly, he enlarged the hole and slipped through, feeling dizzy as he crouched outside the back of the tent while the guy came forward. From his hiding place, he listened to the conversation.

“Maggie, I can hear you in there.”

Looking through the slit, Knox saw her scrambling to pull on some clothing. “What do you want?” she called out. He had thought . . . No what he’d thought about himself and this woman had been a cruel joke.

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