Page 5 of Craved by the Werewolf (Mystic Ridge Monster Mates #2)

THORNE

I made it three steps into the compound before my control snapped. I grabbed the first thing I could find—a clipboard from the front desk—and hurled it across the corridor. Paper scattered everywhere as it hit concrete.

It did nothing to ease the restless energy clawing at my chest.

"Well, that went well."

Raina's voice cut through my barely controlled fury. She was leaning against the doorframe of the operations room, arms crossed, wearing the kind of smirk that meant she'd been listening to the entire broadcast.

"Don't." The word came out as more growl than speech.

"Don't what? Don't mention that you practically purred into that microphone?" Her grin widened. "Or don't bring up the part where you told everyone exactly what gets your blood up?"

I stalked past her. She followed.

"I handled the promotional spot," I said. "That's all that matters."

"Handled it." Raina snorted. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Raina." The warning in my voice would have sent most wolves scrambling for cover.

She just laughed. "Oh, this is good. You're actually rattled."

I wasn't rattled. I was... unsettled. There was a difference. A significant difference that had nothing to do with the way Vala's scent had filled that tiny studio, or how her pulse had spiked when I'd leaned closer to the microphone, or the soft catch in her breathing when I'd?—

"Fuck."

"There it is." Raina looked positively delighted. "When's the last time you lost your composure like this?"

Never. That was the answer, and we both knew it.

I'd built my entire existence around control, discipline, and emotional distance.

I didn't lose my composure. I didn't let anyone get under my skin.

And I sure as hell didn't go around making promises, I couldn't keep to human radio hosts with smart mouths and eyes that saw too much.

I like a woman who doesn't flinch when I bare my teeth.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Before I could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and her expression shifted.

"What is it?"

"Social media." She held up the screen. "Your little radio moment is trending. #AlphaThorne, #NightingaleHours, #BareYourTeeth—the whole community is losing their collective mind."

"How bad?"

"Depends on your definition of bad. The good news is everyone thinks you two have incredible chemistry." She scrolled through what looked like an endless stream of posts. "There are already fan pages, Thorne. Fan pages. With your name and her name and little heart emojis."

This was exactly what I'd been afraid of. The scrutiny, the speculation, the pressure of having every interaction dissected by strangers with too much time and too many opinions.

"There's more," Raina said, still scrolling. "Ticket sales spiked by thirty percent in the last two hours. Apparently the idea of watching you two co-host has people very excited."

Co-host. Right. As if I needed another reminder of how complicated this situation had become.

"Speaking of which," I said, regaining some composure, "prepare yourself for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" She looked up from her phone.

"The planning meeting. Vala's coming here to go over logistics for the main stage events."

Her smile shifted to something equal parts surprise and amusement. "Wait, you invited her here? If you thought tonight was rough, wait until tomorrow."

The thought of seeing Vala again so soon sent another jolt of anticipation through my system. Which was exactly the problem.

"I need some air," I muttered, heading for the rear exit.

"Running away?" Raina called after me. "That's not very Alpha-like."

I didn't dignify that with a response. Mostly because she wasn't wrong.

The training facility was empty at this hour, which was exactly what I needed. I stripped off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves, then stood in front of the heavy bag I'd installed after too many frustrating council meetings had left me needing something to hit.

The first punch landed with a satisfying thud. The second followed quickly. By the third, I could feel my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin, responding to the violence with approval.

But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough to erase the memory of those few seconds when Vala had gone completely still, her quick wit deserting her for the first time since I'd known of her existence. The way she'd looked at me like I'd stripped away every defense she'd ever built.

The way I'd wanted to keep stripping them away until there was nothing left between us but truth.

My fist connected with the bag hard enough to split the leather.

Sand began leaking onto the concrete floor in a steady stream, but I barely noticed.

The wolf was closer to the surface now, pushing against my control, demanding action that had nothing to do with property damage and everything to do with claiming what was mine.

Except she wasn't mine. Couldn't be mine. Wouldn't be mine even if I was stupid enough to want her to be.

I hit the bag again. And again. Somewhere between the seventh and eighth punch, I felt the familiar burn that meant my control was slipping. My vision sharpened, scents became more pronounced, and the careful barriers I kept between my human and wolf sides began to blur.

Claws extended from my fingertips. The next punch tore through the bag completely, sending sand cascading across the floor in a waterfall of grain and leather scraps.

I stood there breathing hard, staring at the destruction, trying to remember the last time I'd lost control like this. Trying to convince myself it was just stress from the upcoming event, just the pressure, just?—

"Well, I'll be damned."

I spun toward the voice, claws still extended, only to find Knox standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a knowing grin on his weathered face.

"Knox." The claws retracted with an effort of will that left me feeling drained. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to watch you destroy a punching bag." He stepped into the gym, surveying the destruction with the kind of calm that came from six decades of pack life. "Haven't seen you lose your shit like this since you were a pup and that Vampire Council dismissed your territorial claims."

"This is different."

"I'll say." Knox settled onto one of the weight benches like he planned to stay awhile. "Back then you were mad. Tonight? Tonight you look like a man who just got sucker-punched by his own damn heart."

I grabbed a towel and wiped sand off my hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't." His laugh was gruff but warm.

"Boy, I've been watching you prowl your way through this town for years.

Everyone of those girls all lovestruck and hanging on your every word, hoping to be the one who catches the Alpha's eye permanently.

" Knox's eyes twinkled with mischief. "But none of them ever made you punch holes in gym equipment, did they? "

"Vala's not?—"

"Vala, is it?" Knox's eyebrows shot up. "You make a habit of not remembering their names. Impressive, even for you."

I threw the towel harder than necessary. "It's her name."

"Uh-huh. And I suppose it's just coincidence that you're down here making confetti after one evening with the radio host?" Knox leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. "Son, I've seen you handle a rogue minotaur with more composure than you showed tonight."

There was no point in denying it. Knox had been part of this pack longer than anyone, had helped train me when I was barely old enough to shift. If anyone could read me like an open book, it was him.

"She didn't back down," I said finally.

"Well, I'll be damned. Finally found one with some spine." Knox's grin was approving. "About time."

"About time?" I stared at him. "Knox, she's human. She has no idea what she's dealing with."

"Maybe she does. Maybe she looked at the big bad Alpha and thought, 'Huh, just another guy who needs taking down a peg or two.'" He chuckled. "Tell me something, son. When you leaned in close and delivered that line about baring your teeth, what did she do?"

The memory was burned into my brain. "She froze."

"Scared frozen or 'sweet Goddess, this man is about to be the death of me' frozen?"

Despite everything, I almost smiled. "The second one."

"That's what I thought." He nodded sagely. "Thorne, in all my years watching you, I've never seen anyone who could twist you up like that. Hell, you practically announced to Mystic Ridge that you've got the hots for her."

"I didn't?—"

"You told them exactly what you wanted, then sat there in silence like you wanted to finish the conversation somewhere private. With her." His grin was pure mischief. "If that's not broadcasting your intentions, I don't know what is."

He wasn't wrong. That was the hell of it. For those few seconds, there might as well have been no radio station, no listeners. There had been nothing but Vala and the challenge in her eyes and the sudden, overwhelming need to show her exactly what I'd meant.

"This can't happen," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because..." I struggled for words that didn't sound like excuses. "Because she's not pack. Because she's got her own life. Because I don't do relationships that matter."

The older wolf was quiet for a long moment, studying me with the kind of focus that came from decades of reading people's hearts.

"You know what your problem is?" he said finally.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"You think you get to make that choice for her." He stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans. "That girl's got backbone, Thorne. More backbone than half the wolves in this pack. Maybe it's time you trusted someone to decide if they can handle what you are."

He headed for the door, then paused to deliver his parting shot.

"Besides, son, way I see it, she's already handled you just fine." Knox's grin was downright wicked. "Question is, what are you going to do about it?"

I narrowed my eyes, but he was already halfway out the door, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. "Looks to me like the wolf's already made up his mind."