Page 8 of Handcuffs & Honey

It was sad that Julian felt as if he had to thank him. To Dominic, it was just proper manners. As far as he knew—and Dominic didn’t know a whole lot about his mate—Julian lived alone, and any gentleman would walk their date to the door.

And for Dominic, this had been a date.

They made it to the porch, and Julian lingered at the door, looking everywhere except at Dominic. Dominic liked that his mate was shy and fumbled over his words. That was so adorable.

“Again, I had a nice time,” Julian said, but he made no move to unlock his door.

Taking another chance, Dominic cupped the back of Julian’s neck and kissed him. The kind of kiss that said he was very interested and wanted to see Julian again, outside of work.

When they parted, Julian looked dazed. That was exactly how Dominic felt, too.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Dominic said as he took a step back, because if he didn’t, he would try to take this further, and with Julian, Dominic needed to take things slowly.

“Okay.” Julian unlocked his door. “Five thirty.”

“Five thirty,” Dominic confirmed before Julian walked inside and closed the door behind him. With a grin, Dominic walked to his truck, feeling like the luckiest guy on the planet.

* * * *

You couldn’t have chiseled the smile off of Julian’s face as he leaned against his door, touching his lips. That had been a toe-curling kiss, and he’d been seconds away from inviting Dominic inside, but it was clear the sheriff wanted to leave.

Julian might have been burned by his former boyfriend, but even Rob hadn’t treated him with such sweetness in the beginning. Had Dominic really opened Julian’s door for him and walked him to the porch? Maybe chivalry wasn’t dead, after all.

Pushing away from the door, Julian sighed and then made his way to his bedroom. He had to be up early, so he wanted to take a shower. As soon as he pulled his dresser drawer open, Julian froze. Had he really heard his floorboards creaking?

He held his breath, straining to listen. It was an older home, so there were plenty of groans and moans, but Julian couldn’t remember if he’d ever heard the floorboards protesting. Someone had to walk on them to make them creak, right?

It was one of those moments of consideration, when a person wasn’t sure if someone was really in their home and debated calling the cops and looking like a fool. But when he heard them creak again… Fuck that.

Julian hurried toward his window, but when he tried to open it, it was louder than the floorboards. He winced, decided not to go that route, and slid under his bed instead.

He would have hidden in his closet, but it was so tiny and there wasn’t any room for him because it was filled with his clothes and shoes.

As quietly as he could, Julian pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1.

“9-1-1. Fire, police, or ambulance?”

“Police,” Julian whispered. “I think someone’s in my house.” He quickly gave his address, wishing like hell he’d remembered to ask Dominic for his phone number. But he hadn’t.

Before the operator could say anything else, Julian was yanked from under the bed by his ankles. He screamed at the top of his lungs, his heart lodging somewhere in his throat as he was thrown across the room.

Julian cried out as he tried to stand, but his leg buckled under him, sending him crashing back to the floor. He refused to look at the person. If he didn’t look, maybe the intruder wouldn’t kill him to conceal his identity. He kept his arms over his head to protect himself from an attack that might come, though he hoped the person just took whatever they’d broken in for and left. Material items could be replaced. Julian’s life couldn’t.

Nothing in his home was worth his life.

When he didn’t hear anything, Julian took a chance and glanced under his arm. His jaw dropped and his heart froze when he found himself looking right at… Was that really a wolf? That didn’t make any sense. How could a wolf pull him from under his bed? Why in the hell was there a wild animal in his house, anyway?

Julian screamed when the wolf attacked, latching its razor-sharp teeth onto his arm when Julian threw it up to protect his face. The pain was unbearable, and Julian fought to get his arm free as he punched at the wolf’s face, feeling as if he was locked in some kind of nightmare.

The sound of distance sirens gave him hope, but if the wolf killed him before the cops arrived, that flash of hope would do him no good.

He kicked with all his might, using his knees to try and throw the wolf off of him. Julian was in survival mode and refused to let the wolf kill him. “Get off of me!”

Julian kept punching the wolf’s head, dug his nails into its nose, and wrestled to get to his side where he might be able to use his legs more efficiently, but the wolf was too powerful and kept Julian pinned down.

This was insane!

The front door crashed open, but the wolf refused to let go. It growled and tossed its head, as if to rip off Julian’s arm. Blood poured from the wound, and Julian feared he would contract rabies or some other disease, but right now, his main concern was surviving this.

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