Page 16 of Werewolves Don't Howl
His eyes narrowed at me. “Do you have a problem demonstrating your beast?”
“I’m not in the mood.”
His jaw hardened, and then he straightened up, crossed his arms and looked as aloof and disinterested as an elf could look, which was very. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t take yourmoodinto consideration. You do realize that I’m implicated by the behavior of my house guests, but if you don’t mind…” He turned and started walking out.
I sighed heavily as I stared at my arm. I could shift just my arm, right? “Wait. Just don’t scream, cry, or faint, okay?”
He slowly came back to me, but his arms were still crossed. “I will try to restrain myself,” he said drily.
Was I seriously going to show him my beast? He’d never look at me the same again. Even Ridley, a born werewolf, had called me disgusting. It was one thing to know I was a werewolf, and an entirely different thing toknowthat I could kill you without breaking a sweat. I took a deep breath and shifted my fingertips, nails stretching to curve over my hands, sinew pulling and splitting while purple veins popped up. Everyone loves purple veins. Patchy fur sprouted up my arms, towards my shoulder, and then the beast came out, full throttle, in a rush of high sensation that left me towering over the Senator, still clutching the blanket in one hand around me to protect my modesty. I really didn’t want him to see my patchy fur and bulging veins, and scaly skin. I wasn’t adorable, just monstrous.
Senator Silverton inhaled sharply as he looked up at me, but only he held out his hand. “Let me measure your claws.” His voice didn’t even shake.
I bent down and exhaled in his hair, sending it floating around before the strands settled once more around his serene, beautiful face. I flexed my claws right in front of that straight, noble nose, almost brushing the tip of it.
He grasped my hand and then held it against his own before snapping a few pictures for comparison. “Your beast is strong.”
“He deserved pain and humiliation, not death,” I rumbled in that scratchy growl. I didn’t hate him calling me strong. Much better than disgusting. And he was so pretty and would taste as good as he smelled.
“He deserved all three. You’re right. You definitely didn’t kill him. The monster who did had much bigger claws.” He finally looked up from my massive claws to my massive maw. “It isn’t the wolf who infected you, is it?”
I shrugged and pulled away, but he still had a grasp on my hand, the pads of my fingers against his. Something fluttered in my belly, something hungry, but not for flesh, at least not to eat. His soft skin would taste so nice. I wanted to press my nose against his throat and inhale his fear and sweetness. I wanted to follow him like Ridley followed pretty girls. I wanted to take advantage of his weakness and my strength.
I struggled with the beast, who was looking at Silverton as a different kind of prey. Finally, I pulled the wolf under my skin, trembling and weak-kneed from the effort. I sat down on the carpet, pulling the delicious throw around me and trying not to show my fear, once more in my gnome-elf skin.
Losing control to the wolf was my greatest fear. Assaulting the Senator like Ridley assaulted girls would make me a true monster. Maybe I should be locked up for Ridley’s murder if it kept me from acting out on those terrifying instincts. I’d never wanted to hunt for more than meat before. Maybe it was Ridley’s flesh, assimilating with mine, making me like him.
“Miss Era?” the Senator said, brushing my hair back from my face so he could look into my eyes. “I apologize for pushing you to shift when you weren’t ready.”
I looked up at him with a shaky smile. “You didn’t cry. I’m so impressed.”
“I was crying on the inside. Your beast is very…” His expression became particularly blank.
I laughed and managed to keep it out of sob territory as I patted his head. He was sitting next to me on the floor, like my wolf made his knees shaky too. “I know. I have the cutest, softest, fluffiest little wolf in the world, which is frustrating because werewolves never take me seriously, and then the beast comes out and then they’re past serious to terrified. That’s why I don’t shift around other werewolves. They can’t help not take me seriously until it’s too late.”
“Why would another werewolf kill Ridley?” he asked, leaning over his knees while he frowned in thought.
“Maybe he killed someone else’s girlfriend, and it’s a revenge strike.”
“Maybe. Or someone’s trying to frame you for his murder.”
I made a face at him. “Or a monster’s stalking me and doesn’t want anyone else to mark their territory on my cashmere.”
His eyes widened, then narrowed as he studied me. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s nonsense. We were saying nonsense, right? Why would anyone want to frame me for something that will probably get brushed off? No one cares when werewolves kill each other?”
“Are you aware how difficult it would be to find someone with larger claws than yours?”
I blinked at him. “I know my beast form is slightly larger than average.”
“Mm. With some training, you could be impossible to defeat.” The way he looked at me was appraising and intrigued.
My beast stirred in my belly, and I felt the press of claws against my nail beds. She’d love to show him how absolutely powerful she could be. I broke out in a cold sweat. The last thing I needed was for my beast to get a crush on an elven senator. That was the last thing he needed as well. I stood up and took two steps away from him while my stomach churned from raw nerves. “If you have the documentation you need, I’ll go get dressed.” And hide in the pool house for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of my life.
“Very well. You should expect to get papers served the next time you go out in public.”
“Perfect. My plan was to hide in the pool house indefinitely.”
