Page 25 of Claimed By Werewolf
For one dizzy, dangerous second, I thought he was going to kiss me.
I wanted him to.God, I wanted him to.
But instead, he shoved the keys back into the ignition, and the engine roared to life.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, more to himself than to me.He raised his voice, “You really want to see my world?See what your brother saw?”
I knew I should say no and run away, but I couldn’t.I wouldn’t stop until I had all of the answers.“Yes.”
“Then be ready Saturday.”
“Ready for what?”I asked.
He shifted the truck into park and careened back onto the road.“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Chapter Thirteen
Demi
Werewolf showed up at my door without warning.
No call.Just the rumble of his bike downstairs, then a heavy fist against the wood until I opened it.
He stood there in his cut, black jeans, and an expression carved from stone.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
I blinked.“Excuse me?”
“Don’t make me say it twice, Demi.”
Heat curled in my chest with equal parts irritation and something hotter.“What if I say no?”
His eyes narrowed, dark and steady.“Then I’ll throw you over my shoulder, and you’ll come anyway.”
My breath caught.Not because I doubted him, no.I knew he would, but because of the way he said it.Like it wasn’t just a threat.Like it was a promise I wasn’t sure I wanted to resist.
I crossed my arms.“Why?What’s so important about tonight?”
His jaw flexed.“It’s time you see the wolves in their den rather than keep guessing at shadows.But you stay glued to me.You don’t talk to anyone.You don’t look at anyone.Got it?”
I should’ve said no.Should’ve slammed the door and locked it behind me.
Instead, I grabbed my jacket.
The clubhouse was already alive when we rolled in.
Bikes lined the lot like gleaming beasts of chrome flashing under the orange glow of string lights strung across the building.Music pounded from inside, with bass vibrating through the ground, mixing classic rock and laughter.
Men in cuts moved everywhere.Women leaned against them, clung to them, draped across bikes in outfits that glittered and bared skin.It was the weekend before Halloween, giving everyone an excuse to be bolder, wilder, and hungrier.
Well, except me.I had stuck to my jeans and typical crewneck sweatshirt.
And in the middle of it all, Werewolf’s hand found the small of my back.Firm and commanding, he guided me through the crowd like I was something fragile.
Eyes followed us.Curious.Suspicious.Some openly hostile.
I felt the weight of their stares like knives, but I kept my head high.
