Page 30 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

My heart beats fast and adrenaline courses through my veins. I’ve never done something so daring, so reckless. But here I am, tracking down a potential criminal.

The light creates pools of visibility surrounded by deep shadow, perfect for hiding. Perfect for an ambush.

I step inside, the door swinging partially closed behind me. The chill seeps through my thin dress, made worse by the humidity. I strain my eyes, searching for any movement among the bottles and barrels.

Suddenly, rapid footsteps pound behind me, followed by a voice that makes my heart jump.

"Julia!" Adrian's voice echoes down the stairwell, tight with something between anger and fear.

I turn toward the door just as his large frame fills it, blocking the meager light from the stairwell. His eyes flash emerald in the dimness, his face a mask of barely controlled fury.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he growls, stalking toward me with the fluid grace of a predator.

I lift my chin, refusing to be intimidated. "Someone was down here. I saw them."

"They could be dangerous," he snaps, looming over me. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. Now go back upstairs."

"I'm not going anywhere!" I plant my feet, glaring up at him. "I want this thief caught as much as you do."

Adrian's nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, his eyes never leaving mine.

"This isn't a game," he says, his voice dropping lower. "Whoever this thief is, they’re not playing games."

"Neither do I." I fold my arms across my chest. "And unless you want to escort me back upstairs and risk losing the thief, then you’ll have to let me follow you."

Something shifts in his expression, a grudging respect replacing some of the anger. He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up in those unruly spikes that somehow make him even more attractive.

"Fine," he concedes, though it clearly costs him. "But you stay behind me, and you do exactly what I say."

"Deal," I agree, trying not to look too triumphant.

Adrian turns, scanning the cellar with narrowed eyes. He moves differently down here, more animal than man, his steps silent despite his size. He positions himself slightly in front of me, his broad shoulders a barrier between me and whatever might lurk in the shadows.

"Tell me what you saw," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Someone all dressed in black, with a face covering, trying to stay hidden." I keep my voice equally low. "They came down these stairs and into the cellar."

Adrian nods, his attention focused on the space around us. His nostrils flare again, and I realize he's tracking the suspect by scent.

"Someone was definitely here," he confirms, moving deeper into the cellar with cautious steps.

I follow closely, my eyes darting to every shadow, every darkened corner. The cellar seems to expand the farther we venture, revealing hidden alcoves and narrower passages between the wine racks.

Adrian's movements become more predatory with each step, his human mannerisms falling away as his wolf rises closer to the surface. His shoulders hunch slightly, his head cocking at small sounds I can't detect. When he glances back at me, his eyes gleam with that supernatural green luminescence.

It should frighten me. Instead, I find it fascinating, even comforting. Whatever else Adrian Wolfsbane may be, he's the perfect predator to have on your side when you're hunting in the dark.

He stops suddenly, his head lifting. He sniffs the air in one direction, then in the other.

"This way," he murmurs, moving toward a stack of wooden crates in the far corner of the cellar.

I stay close behind him, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. The shadows seem to thicken around us, the weak bulbs casting long, distorted shapes across the stone floor.

Adrian rounds the stack of crates, his body tense with anticipation. I wait, watching his back, the powerful muscles visible even through his uniform shirt.

That's when I see it, a quick movement behind us, near the door. A slim figure slips past the doorway, their features indistinct in the poor light.

"Adrian!" I gasp, pointing. "The door!"