Page 22 of Claimed By Werewolf
“Stay the fuck away from her,” I growled.
He gurgled something, and I pressed harder as I watched panic bleed into his face.
The other one staggered up with blood dripping from his mouth.“She’s… she’s just a girl.”
I snapped my gaze to him, ice-cold.“She’s mine.”
The words were out before I could stop them.Raw.Brutal.True in a way that made my chest ache.
I let the second man crumple to the ground as he gasped for air.I stepped back just enough to let them see the rage in my eyes.
“You even breathe near her again and I’ll bury you both so deep nobody will ever find you.”
They scrambled away while dragging each other down the alley, leaving a trail of blood and curses.
I stood there with my chest heaving, and my fists itched for more.The night was quiet again, broken only by the faint hum of the city.
Upstairs, Demi shifted, tucked her phone away, and stepped away from the window.She hadn’t seen or heard a thing.
Good.
She didn’t need to.
I stayed another hour.I lurked in the shadows and watched her light flicker through the curtains, making sure no one else tried their luck.
By the time I finally swung back onto my bike, dawn was creeping over the rooftops.My knuckles throbbed, skin split and raw, but I didn’t care.
All I cared about was the truth I’d spoken in that alley.The truth I couldn’t take back.
She was mine.
Even if she never knew it.
Even if claiming her meant burning my world to the ground.
Chapter Twelve
Demi
The decision came sharply and suddenly.
I had agreed I wouldn’t just to show up, but I never promised I wouldn’t follow him.I needed more answers than the ones that Werewolf was giving me.
By late afternoon, I was in my car across from the garage, my sunglasses hiding the direction of my gaze.My phone was clutched in one hand, but my attention was locked on the man moving across the street.
Werewolf bent over a Harley with grease streaked across his forearm and his tattoos shifted as he worked.He didn’t laugh with the others and didn’t waste words.He was apart even when surrounded.
And I couldn’t look away.
I told myself I was doing this for Tyler.That watching him would lead me closer to the truth.But my chest betrayed me with a tightening whenever his jaw flexed.Whenever he wiped sweat from his brow with the edge of his cut, or his eyes flicked up like he knew exactly who was staring at him.
When he finally stepped out of the shop and climbed into his truck, my heart raced.This was it.My chance.
I followed.
He drove with the same tight grip he seemed to have on the world.He knew the streets like they belonged to him and weaved through traffic until the city blurred behind us.
I trailed two cars back, my pulse hammering with each turn.My old Civic rattled in protest, and I prayed he wouldn’t notice the wheeze of my brakes or the way my headlights flared over each bump.
