[BOOK ONE] When hunter-gatherer Adele Shepherd comes across an injured werewolf in the woods, it's up to her to take him in and save his life: in a remote town dedicated to killing the creatures, she's the only one left who wants to help no matter t...
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THE DOOR FLEW open. In that split second, Adele saw no way out. She saw her life ending; she pictured the barrel of a gun pointed between her eyes; she imagined that sickening smile being the last thing she ever saw, that stomach-churning laugh the last thing she ever heard. In that moment of terror, her instincts failed her. Her legs ignored her brain's desperate signals screaming at her to move.
She couldn't. There was no time. Her clock was up and she wanted to face her killer. The only thing worse than dying in that moment, slaughtered in her own home, was to be shot in the back as she tried to flee.
Caleb threw himself in front of her. He grabbed Ainslie, holding her behind him, and he drew himself to his full height. He was ready to protect his pack, or die trying. Fists clenched, he let out a growl and set his jaw, his eyes darkening. He was ready to attack as soon as he met that icy gaze, prepared to throw his life on the line without question.
But it wasn't Creighton's stare that landed on him.
It was Angus who forced his way into the cabin, the door crashing against the wall. It left a dent, a chip of paint flaking to the floor. He grabbed the handle and slammed it shut so hard that the latch rattled and snow drifted off the porch roof. Fury danced in his eyes when he stood face to face with Caleb, the man he had met more times than he realised.
"Get out of my way," he snapped. Caleb's glare hardened.
"Get out of here," he snarled, pointedly staring down Angus. Angus ignored him, glowering at the top of Adele's head. His hands curled into fists. Caleb didn't flinch, a barrier between the intruder and his goal.
"What the fuck is going on, Adele? You need to fucking explain yourself." He lunged out to grab Adele but Caleb caught his wrist, twisting his arm with the slightest ounce of effort. Pulling him close, he bent his neck to meet his level.
"Get. Out."
Angus wrenched himself free, rage turning to disgust. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
