Page 6 of Stalked By the Wolf

I avert my gaze as he pulls them on, feeling an irrational jab of disappointment and wondering if I imagined it all.

There’s definitely nothing imaginary about the blood staining my carpet, but monsters aren’t real. Right?

My savior strides toward me, dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a midnight blue T-shirt that hugs his perfect biceps. “Did he hurt you?” he rumbles.

I shake my head.Not this time.

“Dane,” I rasp, desperate for an explanation. “He turned into a giant b-bear.”

I know I must sound certifiably insane, but not-so-naked guy doesn’t bat an eye.

Instead, he goes into the kitchen, opens up a few cabinets, and pours me a glass of water. He returns tomy side and hands me the glass, which I drain in a few breathless gulps.

“He’s abear,” I repeat. “A bear . . . man.”

“Bear shifter,” he corrects.

“And you’re a . . .” My throat goes dry. “A werewolf?”

I feel ridiculous saying it out loud, and my handsome rescuer cracks a lopsided grin. “Wolf shifter.”

“Right.”

“I’m Sebastian, by the way.”

“And do you shifter guys frequently get into brawls in other people’s apartments?” I ask.

“No. But I’ve been hunting that piece of shit for a year and a half. Yesterday, I finally found him.”

“Why were you looking for him?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly.

Sebastian lifts one dark eyebrow, and my stomach lurches.

“You were going to kill him?”

“I would have if the bastard hadn’t run off before I got the chance.” Sebastian cocks his head to the side, regarding me with interest. “Is that a problem?”

I just stare at him. What does he expect me to say?No, I’m totally cool with you guys waging your shifter war in my living room.

Then again, Dane hurt me. He barged into my apartment and threatened me. He might have killed me if Sebastian hadn’t shown up when he did.

I shake my head.

“Good.” Something like concern flickers across his face, and he kneels down in front of me. “Are you surehe didn’t hurt you?” He keeps his voice low and gentle, and I get the feeling it’s not a tone he uses very often.

I nod.

“But he’s hurt you before.”

“Yes,” I whisper, my hand drifting down to rest protectively over my bump.

Sebastian doesn’t miss the gesture, and his jaw tightens.

“I moved to this place a couple of months ago to get away from him.” I swallow. “I don’t know how he found me. He must have followed me home from work. What if —” Panic swamps me as the possibility creeps in, and I fiddle with a thread that’s come loose from my sweater. “What if he comes back?”

Something fierce ignites behind Sebastian’s intense blue eyes, but then his expression softens. “Do you have any friends you can stay with tonight?”

Shame squeezes my insides. I’ve never been good at making new friends. I’ve always been better with animals. And although I have a few casual acquaintances from my yoga studio, the last couple months I was with Dane, I isolated myself to the point that I don’t feel comfortable calling any of them.

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