Page 4 of Stalked By the Wolf

Low, angry voices reach my ears. They’re coming from the other side of the closed door in front of me, but my sensitive shifter hearing picks up on every word.

A woman is speaking, her voice shaky and fearful. “You can’t be here, Dane. We broke up.”

“We didn’t break up. You left — ran away like a scared little bitch. That don’t mean it’s over.”

My hands curl into fists, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from snarling. That’s the problem with men like Murphy. They just can’t take a hint.

The woman scoffs, but even through the flimsy door, I can smell her fear.

“I ran because you hurt me,” she says. “I’m sorry but . . . it’s over.”

Thunderous footfalls shake the landing, and it takes all of my willpower to remain rooted to the spot. I can’t just burst into this poor woman’s flat. I don’t want her to witness the carnage when I rip her ex apart.

But then Murphy speaks again, and I can barely hear him over the roar of blood in my ears. “It ain’t over ’tilIsay it’s over.”

I bare my teeth, practically foaming at the mouth at the audacity of this bastard.

Before he gave us all the slip, Murphy put Adrian’s mate through hell. He beat her and belittled her until she believed she didn’t deserve any better. Now he’s doing it tothispoor girl.

Murphy thinks he owns her, and after a few more months of his abuse, Claire will start to believe it too.

My skin suddenly feels much too tight. My wolf is pushing to the fore,demandingto be unmuzzled.

But I can’t shift in front of a human. That’s a mess I don’t need.

Then the woman speaks again, and the devastating resolve in her wobbly voice does something to my animal. “I said it’s over, Dane, “Nowget out, or I’ll —”

“Or you’llwhat?” Murphy’s voice is dripping with fury and scorn, and my wolf registers the threat.

I don’t consciously decide to shift. I just start shucking off clothes.

A roar vibrates through my chest, but it didn’t come from me. It came from the other side of the door. The landing trembles as the woman screams, and the sound snaps the last of my self-control.

Sweet agony swamps my body as I succumb to the Change. Fur spreads over my skin as bones and ligaments rip apart. My wolf bursts out of me, and I land on four paws — remade and ready to kill.

There’s a groan of metal as I barrel into the door, ripping it half off its hinges. A dozen unfamiliar smellsbombard my senses, but my wolf brain only registers hers.

She smells like sunshine and honeysuckle, and I latch onto that scent. My gaze snags on the woman crouched beside a grubby brown recliner, and I realize that I was wrong.

Claire Belmont isn’t some human. The woman is a fucking angel.

Wispy white-blond curls frame a terrified face set off by a pair of lush pink lips. Her eyes are the color of sea glass, and they are wide with horror.

Mine.

The instinct roars through me with such certainty that it steals my breath away.

Claire Belmont is mine to protect.

Mine to claim.

Mine to kill for.

I must have made an audible sound, because her eyes focus on me. Claire’s mouth opens in a terrified scream, but I snap my head around and focus on the real threat — the gigantic, hulking bear.

In animal form, Murphy probably weighs close to eight hundred pounds. And even though I’m larger than a mundane wolf, I am still outmatched.

So I go for his throat.

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