Page 7 of Evil Hearts

Addison chewed her lip, her expression inscrutable.

“You know, as explanations go, that was utter shit,” she eventually offered with a nervous laugh. “Why don’t you try explaining this to me like I’m five?”

Fenn groaned, dropping his forehead against the fence with a dejected metallic rattle. “No way in hell we’d be in this situation if you were five.”

She rolled her eyes, but Fenn didn’t miss her nearly tangible curiosity as her eyes kept drifting downward. “Come on, you know what I mean.”

“Well, uh, you don’t see the dog anywhere, right?” Fenn started, hesitantly.

“Shit! The dog! Did you see him?” Her focus shifted immediately, brows furrowing as she chewed her thumb, eyes anxiously tracking the treeline beyond the fence.

Don’t even think about it, he chided his dick, swallowing thickly as visions of her nibbling onhimrocked his imagination. He was trying very hardnotto be a creep, despite appearances.

“Only when I look in the mirror,” Fenn let out with a half-hearted chuckle. “There is no dog, Addison. There never has been.”

He saw the gears turning as Addison processed what had to be the world’s biggest mindfuck, but she needed to come to her own conclusions. Fenn had heard this type of discovery goverybadly for others of his kind, but maybe if he gave her space he could salvage this mess.

Addison’s eyes followed the leash laying against his spine, gaze shooting back up guiltily as it reached the loop grazing his bare ass. Patience was his mantra as she squinted at his collar, stepping forward—not awayhis heart noted, lifting with hope. A soft whine escaped him as her fingers grazed his neck, hooking the nylon band to reveal the attached tag.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She apologized automatically, completely misinterpreting the sound. “This is…this is Fenn’s tag,” she murmured, brow knitting as her fingertip traced the single, familiar scratch on the surface of the tag.

Fenn held his chin high while she examined it, baring his throat with an ease that was particularly foreign to werewolves.

He was not your average werewolf.

Fenn immediately missed the tension on his collar as she relinquished her grip. The muscles of her lips moved from side to side with unspoken words, eyes darting back and forth as if she was reading—or maybe scanning a mental conspiracy board of reasons whywhat he wascouldn’t possibly exist.

Her gaze cleared suddenly, focusing intently on something in front of him. Through the moon-drenched spaces in the chainlink, several forgotten dog toys lay scattered in a pile.

She hummed with interest, raising a brow. “Guess I’m not the only one with an aggressive arm.”

With that, she walked away, disappearing around the back of the shed and tree. Fenn started to panic, straining his neck and torso as much as the wildly inconvenient restraint of the fence would allow.

“Addison? Addison!” Fenn called out for her in a loud whisper, tone a little more desperate than he intended. He didn’t need any nighttime park-goers finding him before she—hopefully—returned.

Unrelenting arousal and self-pity duked it out in his brain, neither one giving an inch. He couldn’t budge and now therewas a human thatknewgoing god-knows-where, leaving him to be found bare-ass by the first client in the morning. Connor was going to kill him—metaphorically, anyway. He was going to be a particularly fluffy entryway rug by the time his boss got done chewing him out. The moon-drunk distressed wolf inside him let out soft, constant whining that rumbled in his throat.

The fence rattled slightly, tugging on Fenn’s knot in a way that made his whining stutter in favor of a swallowed moan. Miraculously, Addison appeared on the other side of the fence, having slipped out the side gate and was once moreapproachinghim. She stopped short of where he stood, instead crouching down and tossing the lost toys back over the fence.

“Figured you guys could use some help with these, being short-staffed and everything,” she said, more to herself than him directly.

Addison was….cleaning up? She just found out werewolves existed andsqueaky toysgot her attention?

This was definitely not the reaction he’d expected. His fingers gripped the chainlink tightly as he pressed his forehead into the cool metal mesh, watching her pick the toys up one by one. Instinct drove him to push his nose through the gap, only to be blocked by the muzzle, scenting each toy as it was lifted and tossed overhead. He recognized each one, which human or animal had last touched it, and through it all an impossible rosemary-tinged wisp of fragrance: Addison was still aroused. She stillwanted him?

“Would it help if I said the word?” Fenn ventured quietly, both amused and concerned at her literally stepping around their conversation. “I was trying to ease you in.”

She snorted derisively as she picked up the last of the toys, a braided rope so frayed it was practically a pom pom, sending it sailing back into the yard.

Okay, well at least she wasn’t in full-on shock if her humor was still intact, right?

“Werewolf,” Fenn blurted, desperate for her focus. “I’m a werewolf.”

She stood up at the admission, facing out towards the treeline that separated their business from the park, unmoving and silent.Shit. He’d totally fucked this up. He’d have to tell Connor even if he did manage to get free of the fence before morning. He needed to do what he could to make it up to Addison, as well as make sure she didn’t blab. He needed to take immediate responsibility for his actions, as horny as the moon made him.

“Listen, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for—” he started, fingers twisting nervously over the thin metal bars in his palm, internally wincing as he recalled nosing her crotch within seconds of “meeting” her. He definitely regretted the lack of informed consent, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret that amazing noseful of pheromones.

She spun slowly. “Somehow, Fenn, that is the most sensible explanation for finding you muzzled, leashed and stuck in a fence.”

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