Page 27 of A Malicious Menagerie (Fangs & Fables #1)

This close to him, I can just catch his scent, pine trees and musk, similar to how he smelled as a wolf but with something more, something with spice. I take a couple of deep breaths, wanting to take that scent into me, to bring it home with me and let it warm my space like a lit candle.

“You looked beautiful in that dress.”

“Huh?” I reply dumbly, thrown off by the non-sequitur.

“That night,” he clarifies, his gaze intent and, dare I say, hot . “You looked beautiful in that dress. I mean, you always look beautiful, but seeing you like that was… different.”

“Thank you,” I reply, feeling both uncomfortable and elated.

I’ve never been good at accepting compliments.

“Though you didn’t seem to like the dress so much when Mathis’s skeevy guests were noticing it,” I point out, suppressing a shiver at the memory of his lupine form colliding with the iron bars and his silver fangs flashing.

He grins, but it’s more a baring of teeth than an expression of humor. “I’d like it a lot better if you wore it just for me on that date you promised me.”

Trying to channel some inner coquette that absolutely does not exist, I reply, “Maybe someday I will.”

Suddenly, his expression cools several degrees. He lets go of my hand to run his fingers through his hair again and tug at the shaggy ends. I cross my arms over my chest, surreptitiously flexing my fingers and missing his heat. “Unfortunately, I doubt it.”

Of course. Because he’s stuck here, in his gilded prison. “Do you ever…” I trail off, because of course he thinks about getting out of here. Who wouldn’t?

“Every fucking day,” he replies vehemently, answering my unfinished question.

We’re silent for a long moment, both wrapped up in our own thoughts. But one question, the one I’ve wanted to ask the most, keeps building on my tongue until I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me what you are?”

He blinks a few times, the question taking him off guard. Then, his mouth forms a firm line, and he shrugs. “I don’t know. I just… You talked to me like I was a person. No one has done that since I was brought here. I didn’t want to lose it.”

“You do realize how fucked up that is, right?” I ask, mimicking his words but smiling to take away the sharpness.

He snorts. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“I’ll still talk to you like you’re a person,” I promise. “But now, I get the benefit of you talking to me like a person, too.”

His eyes are the color of warm toffee when he visibly softens at my words. “Fair enough.”

“Besides,” I continue lightly, hoping to alleviate some of the gloom that has snuck into our conversation, “I still need someone to babble incessantly to, and you—” I punctuate my point by pointing at him, “—are a captive audience.”

At first, he doesn’t react, and I wonder if I pissed him off. Before I can take it back, though, he breaks down in laughter, the sound a little like a rusty chainsaw.

“Too soon?” I ask innocently.

“Way too soon,” he agrees, grinning. “You’re something else, Anna.”

It’s my first time hearing him say my name, and it does funny things to my insides that I decide not to scrutinize too closely. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our talk, Chase,” I say, making sure to use his name, too, “I have to go. If I don’t start getting some things done, John will come find me.”

Another low grumble rolls through the space between us. “The guy’s an asshole.”

“You have no idea,” I grumble, and Chase’s eyes grow sharp.

“What does that mean?” he demands, wrapping one hand around an iron bar in a white-knuckled grip.

“Nothing,” I say, waving off his concern. “I can handle John.”

“Anna…”

“I guess you need dinner, right?” I move toward the freezer, letting him know this conversation is over.

“You would have told me what was bothering you if you still thought I was a dire wolf,” Chase growls. “By the way, you do know that dire wolves are extinct, right? And they weren’t anywhere near as big as me.”

“Nowhere near as big as your ego, I’d bet,” I mutter under my breath.

As I let the cool air from the freezer brush over my cheeks and stare at the stacks of frozen raw meat inside, something occurs to me. I glance at Chase, who’s scowling back at me. “I just realized… When given the choice, do you actually eat raw meat?”

He makes a kind of motion with his hand. “As a wolf, sure, though I’d prefer hunting my own. As a man, though…” He sighs. “I’d kill for a cheeseburger.”

“Kill who? John and Mathis?”

Despite maintaining his human form, the look Chase gives me in that moment is entirely lupine. A shiver coasts down my spine as he grits out, “Those two I’d kill for nothing. Their deaths would be reward enough.”

“Jesus,” I mumble, rubbing my arms to chase away a chill. “The wolf came out a little bit there.”

“I told you.” This time, when Chase grins, his fangs are long and dagger-sharp. “I am the wolf.”

Fighting back another shudder, I decide to change the subject. “Well, unfortunately, I don’t have any cheeseburgers today. Though maybe I can manage one tomorrow. In the meantime, it’s frozen ribs for dinner.” I glance back at him. “Can you go behind the divider so I can come in?”

His shoulders tense, and his dark brows furrow. “You haven’t closed the divider in weeks.”

“That was before I knew you were a werewolf,” I remind him again.

“Anna,” he says, his voice deadly serious, “I would never hurt you.”

“You just professed to wanting to kill people,” I remind him wryly.

“People who deserve it, sure, but not you.”

“I’d feel safer if you let me close the divider,” I tell him firmly, my expression and tone brooking no argument.

He flinches, and pain flashes across his features so quickly that I’d think I’d imagined it if not for the responding pang in my chest. He raises his hands in surrender.

“Alright. I’m going.” He turns, affording me a stellar view of his toned back and muscular ass, and pads across the soft soil until he stands beyond where the divider crosses.

He turns back and crosses his arms over his chest, highlighting the definition in his corded forearms.

I hesitate for a moment, surprised by his easy capitulation. “Just like that? Not going to fight me on this?”

He quirks another crooked smile, and there’s something so tender in his expression that it makes me feel like a balloon is inflating inside my chest. “You’d figure it out eventually, so I’ll just go ahead and tell you: you hold all the cards, Anna.

There’s not much I wouldn’t do to make you feel safe. ”

My throat is tight with some mix of emotions that I’m ill-equipped to try to dissect and define.

“Why?” I manage to croak past the jumbled ball of feelings.

But he only smiles and waits for me to shut him in, and I know suddenly that I can’t do it.

If it makes me the biggest fool there is, fine, but I’m taking a chance on this man.

I take a steadying breath before picking up a frozen haunch and hoisting it into my arms. That done, I move to the door to the enclosure and use my access card to unlock it.

The minute I do it, I realize that if he wanted to escape, all he’d have to do is charge me now and slip through the door.

My arms are full, so I wouldn’t even be able to try to fight back.

Granted, he wouldn’t be likely to make it past the guards positioned at either exit, not to mention whatever protections are built into his collar.

Still, if I were him, I might be tempted to try.

Instead, he only remains motionless, his head tilted that way I’ve seen him do as a wolf when he was trying to puzzle something out. I move to close the door behind me, but I hesitate before I do it. It feels… wrong. Mistrustful.

So instead, I make another leap of faith and leave it ajar.

First, I deposit his dinner in the usual place, though it feels weird leaving it like that with him looking as he does now.

Then, I turn and walk toward him, not letting myself falter.

He never moved for the door, not even an inch, just stayed in the same place.

Though his muscles tense as I approach, he otherwise remains motionless.

Once I’m close enough to reach out and touch him—or for him to reach out and grab me, if he really wanted—I stop and peer up into his golden eyes.

I have to crane my neck to do it, as tall as he is.

We regard each other silently for a moment, weighing each other’s character through our gazes, before I finally speak. “I want to trust you.”

“You can trust me,” he vows, his tone so solemn that I can’t help but believe him.

“I want you to trust me, too.” My gaze shies away from his, ashamed at what I have to say next.

Because he has to be wondering if I can help him get out of here.

How could he not? Lord knows I would definitely be thinking about it.

“But I can’t help you escape, no matter how badly I want to.

It’s not just you and me at stake here. I have to think about Nan. ”

“I know,” he says, and he does, because I told him about Nan. I’ve told him a lot of things. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“I don’t feel any less guilty about it,” I say, and now I’m fidgeting, my fingers twining and untwining again and again.

A low growl reverberates between us, and Chase reaches out and grabs hold of one of my hands before I can react, stealing my breath.

My gaze shoots to his as he raises my hand to his lips and brushes a kiss over my knuckles.

His beard is somehow bristly and soft at once, and my traitorous brain can’t help but wonder how that would feel against my neck or trailing down my belly or tickling the insides of my thighs…

“Don’t feel guilty,” Chase murmurs, startling me from my thoughts.

I fight a violent blush as he continues, “I would never want you to do something that would put you or anyone you care about in danger.”

“But I care about you ,” I blurt, and then I immediately lose my fight against my raging blush. I clap my free hand over my eyes, partly to hide my tomato-red face and partly to avoid looking at him after that awkward, blundering admission.

“You care about the wolf,” Chase replies lightly, his tone teasing, and I know he’s giving me an out after I embarrassed myself so thoroughly.

“You’re the one who keeps saying you are the wolf,” I remind him dryly.

He grins, just a hint of fang on display. “Well, then.”

Nothing is settled, not by a long shot. He’s still trapped here by iron bars and guards with a maze of warehouses and skyscrapers beyond.

Meanwhile, my bonds are less tangible, but I feel my duty to Nan like a millstone around my neck.

My need to keep this job to care for her is at odds with who I’ve always believed myself to be—a person who would never stand idly by while others are suffering or being mistreated.

The two contradictory desires are eating away inside me like cancer.

But until I can puzzle my way through this moral quagmire, the best I can do is bring a werewolf a hamburger.

And a vampire some blood.