The previous day…
“Uh, I think that’s mine,” Alyssa spoke firmly to the man whose big hand wrapped around her paper cup. She’d been sneaking peeks at him since she got in line behind him at the coffee shop.
After walking into the building, a scent much nicer and more robust than coffee beans and donuts cocooned her. The second it had filled her nostrils, her mouth had watered, and lower, her vaginal muscles had damn near convulsed. The smell was sharp like pine, yet reminded her of a campfire, with just a touch of leather tossed in. It was masculine, rich, and inviting, and she realized it was coming from the man less than a foot in front of her.
She’d stared at the back of his head where the wispy brown hair met his coat collar, silently willing him to turn around so she could get a look at his face.
He’d turned and smiled at her. His blue eyes were as warm as his scent, his smile was kind, and his features were perfect. Dark facial hair framed his face, running from his hair down his jawline and chin. The same well-trimmed hair outlined his plush lips. His lashes were long, and his nose was strong and lean.
Catching herself leaning toward him, she’d given herself a mental shake and smiled back. It broke their silent exchange when the cashier called for the next customer, and he stepped up to the counter.
She’d continued to steal glances in his direction as she placed her order and moved to the designated waiting area. Each time she peeked at him, he blatantly stared back at her. She attempted to be coy, but he seemed unconcerned that he was staring. His eyes had narrowed, and he’d cocked his head to the side as he studied her, as if he was trying to place her.
He wouldn’t recognize her. She was new in town, a loner with no friends, and constantly needed to keep moving on. She rarely stayed in one place for long and never long enough to attract attention.
And she knew from looking at him that the attention she’d attract from him would be all kinds of wrong. It was the dirty, sweaty kind that came with a shared intimacy she was never good at, nor would she allow.
Blushing, Alyssa had cast her gaze downward. Caught up in her thoughts and her attempt to ignore the sexy stranger, she wasn’t paying attention when they called her name and placed her cup on the counter. Before she could reach for it, he’d wrapped his long fingers around it, forcing her to break her silence and speak to the handsome hunk of a man. “Uh, I think that’s mine.”
“Oh, is it?” His grin was back. He lifted his hand away but didn’t step back.
“Yep.” She twisted the cup, so her name was visible. “See. Alyssa.”
He tsked and shook his head. “My mistake.”
Pursing her lips to hold back a burst of flirtatious laughter, she reached for a lid and secured it over the top of her mocha. “That’s also why they called out Alyssa.” She tilted her head. “I can’t imagine you answer to that.”
As though he’d been waiting for the chance, he thrust his hand forward. “Drew.”
Alyssa knew it was dangerous, that he was dangerous, the kind of danger that threatened her don’t-get-attached-don’t-stay-too-long lifestyle. Drew was someone she could definitely get attached to. Repeatedly. Reaching toward him, she blamed proper etiquette for her eagerness to shake his hand rather than her extraordinary need to feel his skin against hers.
Warm fingers encased hers. His palm was solid against her flesh. The caress sent sparks skating along her nerves, and a razor-sharp awareness stole her breath, filling her lungs with a deep icy blast before warmth rushed along her skin. The intense sensation reminded her a little of the first time she’d shifted.
Her body shivered.
What the hell was that?
She felt alive in a new way. She was needy. Needy for more of his scent, his touch—him.
Shaking off the uninvited feelings, she jerked her hand from his hold. Glancing up with confusion and awe, she wondered if he’d felt the same rush she had.
His stare was as intense as it had been prior to their touch. Nothing appeared to be different.
It was only her. She was the freak. Always the freak. It served as a great reminder of why she needed to remain alone and as far away from Drew as possible.
Disappointment crushed her. There was no way, after all these years, that she should feel disappointment. She was alone for a reason. An oddity in the universe, she had no soul mate, no destiny except the one she carved out for herself.
Snagging the cup from the counter, she rushed around him with a quickly mumbled, “See ya.”
“Wait! Alyssa!”
Ignoring how wonderful her name sounded coming from his lips, Alyssa hurried toward the door, bracing for the chilly wind, but his hand wrapped around her elbow, halting her attempt to flee. Turning, she looked up.
“Why don’t you join me?” He nodded to a couple of vacant seats near a low table.
Her gaze bounced from the table back to him. Oddity. Weirdo. Freak. Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut, which only amplified his scent. The desire to paint struck her harder than it had in months. She needed to create.
“Sorry, I have to work.”
His gaze narrowed. “Where do you work? You’re new in town.”
The last part wasn’t a question. He seemed pretty damn sure of his statement. “I paint. I’m an artist.” She attempted to pull away from him, but without spilling her coffee, she couldn’t dislodge his grasp. His nearness made her dizzy. “I need to go.”
“I’d like to see you again.”
Danger. Danger! “Um, I have a gallery thing tomorrow.” Why was she telling him that? She shook her head. With more pride, she straightened and replied, “Tomorrow night, my work is being featured at Platinum Delight Art. I paint landscapes.”
Relaxing his hold, he freed her arm. His deep blue gaze searched hers. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was searching for. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Her eyes widened. He didn’t look like an art connoisseur. Would he really attend, just to see her again?
Before she could respond, the barista called his name.
“Tomorrow, Alyssa,” he said before walking away.
Alyssa stared at his back for much longer than she ought to. Why did it sound like a sensual promise?
She’d longed to find a place to put down permanent roots in the past but never had she felt such a strong connection to a town as when she drove into Mount Woodridge. But she hadn’t been expecting to find someone like Drew. Now those hopes were dashed.
Present day…
Alyssa tapped the card against her palm as she watched Drew leave the gallery. He’d asked her out again. He was so different from the men she usually let near her—artsy types or nerdy next-door neighbors—the only men she’d allow close to her for a brief fling. Drew was different. All hard muscle and sex appeal, with a dangerous edge and a sense of charisma that left her wobbly. And his scent…
Inhaling, she could still smell it in the air. Earthy and real.
Saliva pooled in her mouth, and desire thrummed through her veins. Her body didn’t seem to care that getting involved with such an intense male was a bad idea. Yesterday she’d been such a dufus to think she could avoid him, but honestly, she hadn’t thought he’d come to the show tonight. She figured he’d have forgotten about her as soon as he left the shop, but he didn’t, and that could be a problem—a huge problem.
“Was that the Grill Master?” Zelda asked as she pressed a champagne flute into Alyssa’s hand.
“Grill Master?” Alyssa’s gaze darted from the exit where Drew had vanished only moments before to her new landlady.
With a flick of her wrist, Zelda flipped her long silver hair behind her shoulder. “Drew Masters. He owns the local BBQ and grill factory called Master’s Grilling, and each year he grills the best burgers, sausages, and hot dogs at the local walk-a-thon for the children’s hospital. Never thought I’d see him in my gallery, though.” She shot a coy grin in Alyssa’s direction. “Now, I wonder what he was here for.”
Alyssa tried to keep the blush from her cheeks and opted not to address that last comment. “He volunteers at the children’s hospital and runs a bird sanctuary?”
Zelda’s eyes widened. “He told you about Wildlings? My, my, isn’t that telling?”
“Telling? Telling what?” Alyssa glanced back toward the doorway.
“From what I’ve heard, Drew doesn’t date much, at least not local girls. He’s dated a few ladies who were passing through, and he always uses Wildlings to attract them. Not that the man needs anything more to attract the ladies. Women around here flock to that sanctuary to catch a peek at him. You’ve seen him, so you know what I mean.” She took a sip from her glass. “He and that VP of his, Callum, are pretty big attractions in this town.”
Alyssa tried to sift through all Zelda was saying. If he didn’t get attached to women, if he wasn’t interested in long-term commitments, maybe, just maybe, she could risk getting involved with him for a brief period. Brief was necessary and all she’d allow herself. She had no room for affection, not after the last time, and she certainly had no time in her life for complications. If past experiences had taught her anything, it was that friendship, relationship, or companionship of any kind weren’t meant for her to keep. She was better off alone.
But if Drew shared that sentiment, then perhaps she could indulge just this once.
Alyssa smiled at her newest acquaintance. “I can see why.”
“Now, he doesn’t actually volunteer at the hospital, but his company provides the means and the food for the event every year, and Drew himself is flipping the burgers. Has he asked you out yet?”
Alyssa had been staring rather wistfully toward the exit and completely forgot to censor her answer. “Twice.”
“Twice!”
Shoot! She hadn’t meant to say that. She really didn’t want to get into this conversation with her landlady or anyone, for that matter.
“This is sure to be a lively spring, then!” Zelda took a sip from her champagne flute. “Until you showed up, things were looking pretty dull. First, I found a stunning new talent, and now everyone will flock to look at her artwork because she’s captured the attention of our most eligible bachelor!”
Alyssa barely had time to register the stunning compliment. Her mind was far too focused on the latter part of Zelda’s speech. Was she about to be thrust into the spotlight in this little town? She had mixed feelings. It would be fantastic for her artwork. Finally, getting some recognition might help her pad her floundering bank account, but did she really want the attention? She definitely didn’t want the wrong kind of attention.
The last thing she needed was another problem.
“He asked me to join him for coffee yesterday.”
Zelda’s grin widened as though she knew the best secret of the year. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you painted the Blood Moon last night, didn’t you?”
Alyssa narrowed her eyes. “I did. So?”
“So you met a downright gorgeous man for coffee, then went home and painted that hauntingly sexualized forest?”
Her frown deepened as she defended her work and reputation. “It is not a sexualized forest.”
“Oh, honey, there’s no shame in lusting after Drew. Two-thirds of the women in this town lust after him, and the other third are too old to care or too young to realize what a real man is supposed to be.”
She couldn’t deny that she’d been thinking of him as she added stroke after stroke to the canvas last night and early this morning. Ever since she’d met him, she’d had an odd energy racing through her body. She was fidgety and needy. It was all she could do to stand still tonight and engage in conversations about her work. The feeling was even worse now that he’d been here. His scent lingered in her nose; his presence had left her shaky and aroused. She needed to run. And tonight, she would, just as soon as she could get out of here.
After years of dreaming of this night, fantasizing about being featured in a gallery, here she was, wishing for it to be over so she could be free. All because of Drew and this odd feeling he provoked in her. Yes, he was dangerous.
Dangerous to her secret. Hazardous to the image she attempted to project everywhere she went. She wanted people to think she was normal when she was the farthest thing from it.
When she realized she’d been silent too long, she replied, “I’m having second thoughts about selling the Blood Moon.”
Zelda smirked. “I wondered if you might say that.”
“It hasn’t sold yet, has it?”
“Not yet, no.” Zelda looked across the gallery at the piece in question. “But several people have expressed interest in purchasing it.” Her gaze bounced around the room. “You’ve sold six others, though.”
“What?” Alyssa couldn’t keep the shocked gasp in. Her gaze followed a similar path as Zelda’s, surveying the canvases. “No way.”
Zelda pursed her lips, humor lighting her gaze as she responded. “Way.”
Alyssa blushed. The silly words had just slipped out. Then a thought occurred to her, and her gaze trailed the room for a different reason. Had her one fan shown up and purchased them? She glanced around but didn’t see Mitch. He often hung around the room's perimeter, watching her as she talked about her pieces. She hadn’t seen him yet, but she couldn’t forget that he’d promised to purchase one of her pieces soon.
It hadn’t sounded like a promise coming from him. It sounded like a threat.
“Who purchased them? Was it a man?” She tried to keep the concern from her tone but worried she’d failed. Mitch was someone to be concerned about, although she knew she could take care of herself if the need arose. He’d done nothing outlandish, but he gave off that creepy stalker dude vibe with just a touch of serial rapist tossed in. Enough to give her the heebie-jeebies and avoid being caught alone with him.
Zelda squinted, examining her a little too closely for her comfort. “It was multiple people.” The gallery owner placed her warm hand on Alyssa’s shoulder. “Relax. I know genuine talent when I see it, and you, baby girl, you’ve got it. You just need to learn how to sell yourself. Stick with me, and you can say goodbye to county fairs and flea markets for your bread and butter.”
Alyssa’s blush returned. “Thank you. Though I don’t know how long I’ll be in town.”
The older woman frowned. “But you only just got here.” She waved her hand in disbelief. “Last week!”
She shrugged as though it was no big deal when in truth, she’d loved the town the moment she drove into it. She really didn’t want to leave. “There’s a chance I might have to leave unexpectedly.” To avoid explaining, she changed the subject. “Which is why I told him no.”
“Him?” she asked, confused. Then recognition flashed across her face. “Drew? You turned down that fine specimen?”
She only nodded.
Zelda let out what had to be an exaggerated gasp. “Blasphemy! Why on earth would you do a thing like that?”
Alyssa laughed. “I might not be here long.”
“All the more reason to grab on and enjoy the ride for however long it lasts.” She seized Alyssa’s shoulder again, directing her gaze to her own. “You only get one life, child. Enjoy the hell out of it.”
After smiling kindly at Zelda, Alyssa took a sip from her glass.
“Seriously, girl, enjoy it. Preferably with a well-muscled hunk of a man who knows the proper way to fuck a woman is by ensuring she has more orgasms than him.”
Alyssa choked and slugged herself in the chest to dislodge the liquid that had gone down the wrong way. “What? Did you really just say that?”
Shaking her head slightly, Zelda gave her a look resembling pity. “I can tell you haven’t had enough fun in your life. You’ve been isolated. Now, whether that’s by choice or because you’re running from something, I’m not sure, but a quick look around this room and I know, based on your art alone, that you live on the outside looking in. That—” she pointed across the room to the Blood Moon “—that you painted with feeling. Grab hold of that feeling and that man, and ride him for all it’s worth. One shot is all you get.”
Gulping, Alyssa searched for an escape from the conversation, then she noticed a couple across the room trying to get her attention. They were looking at her wagon wheel painting. Indicating the couple, she took a few steps away. “I need to go.”
Zelda grumbled. “Fine, but I swear, baby girl, you need to learn how to live.”
Those words resonated, finding their way into her soul. She needed to live, but she had to do it safely and on her terms. Could Drew be a real distraction, or would he be the reason she fled this town?
She pondered the question as she helped the couple and then discussed several other paintings with interested buyers. Mitch never showed up, but countless times Zelda would pop over, and the more time she spent with the woman, the more she wondered if Zelda might be the reason she’d have to leave town.
Zelda had already taken an interest in Alyssa, giving her a place to stay and helping her grow her business, but if she crossed into Alyssa’s love life, she’d get too close. The last thing she needed was someone digging around in her private life.
She had secrets that would put celebrity sex tapes to shame; that would eclipse the latest Big Foot sighting. She was a freak, and no one could ever find out.
Three Hours Later…
Shrugging out of her coat, Alyssa tossed it on the driest patch of dirt beneath the tree with the least amount of snow. She hadn’t gone for a run in over a week, but after talking with Drew, she finally knew the best spot to go for a trek in her new town.
Wildlings.
A quick Google search had told her all she needed to know about the facility. She knew where the buildings were, what types of animals they housed, and how many staff members worked there—and that at midnight, no one would be around. No one would find her at the back of the property, where the forest bordered a country road.
Once the show had finished, and after a long chat with Zelda, Alyssa could finally leave. She’d raced home and shed her fancy wear for baggy sweats, a hoodie, and thick socks. Then she was back in the car before the heater had time to cool.
Leaving her car stranded on the country road, she’d left prints in the snow as she trudged up a steep hill to the first trees.
Smiling up at the moon, she took a deep breath of cool, crisp air.
The snow had stopped but left the ground white, fresh, and sparkling in the moonbeams. The night was silent, the breeze slight.
Anticipation, pride, and something else, arousal perhaps—since meeting Drew, she seemed to be in an eternal state of arousal. It coursed through her. She’d been looking forward to a good long run for days, and now she could claim tonight as a celebration. She’d sold seven paintings and had an offer on the Blood Moon, and she’d rejected it, unable to part with the piece just yet.
Pulling off her hoodie, she left it on top of her coat, exposing her bare breasts to the frigid February air. Soon she wouldn’t have to worry about the goosebumps coating her arms. She tugged off her boots, placing her car keys inside one, along with her socks, before adding her sweats and panties to the growing pile of clothing.
Shivering, with her feet bare in the snow, she rubbed her arms.
The light from the moon highlighted her skin and caused her soul to relax.
She took a deep breath and looked up at the star-studded sky before willing her body to contort.
Seconds later, her muscles shifted, her bones changed and realigned, and her skin became coated in thick, dark fur. She let out a howl that helped ease the confusion and sexual awakening that had consumed her of late.
Happy and carefree, she ran between the trees, content that no one would discover her secret—that she was a werewolf.