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CHAPTER TWO
CLAIRE
My heart pounds in my throat when I see Dane standing on my doorstep. The guy is well over six feet tall, two hundred and fifty pounds, and looks as though he could crush my car if he just leaned on it wrong.
There was a time when I found the big, hulking man attractive. Now, the sight of him outside my apartment just makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Dane’s nostrils flare as he looks me up and down, and I instinctively cross my arms over my chest. The move causes my coat to fall closed over my middle, hiding the tiny bulge beneath my sweater.
I’ve never been a very good liar. My parents were tree-huggers who told us we could come to them with any problem, and as a result, I never learned to do it well.
I can’t let Dane catch on to the fact that I’m starting to look a little pregnant. He’s not the brightest bulb in the box, but if he thinks back to what we were doing three and a half months ago, there’s a chance he’ll put two and two together.
“What are you doing here?” I ask softly, my voice wavering despite my best efforts.
Dane’s mouth twitches in a sickening grin that doesn’t meet his silver eyes. “Now that’s not any way to greet your man.”
“You’re not my man, Dane,” I grit out. “Not anymore.”
“Aw, come on, darlin’. You’re not still sore about the last time I came to visit, are ya?”
My whole body goes rigid at the memory, and a suffocating shame works its way up my throat.
I never thought I’d be the type of girl who had a boyfriend who hit her. That was when I still believed there was such a thing as a type of woman who got hit, rather than the type of man who did the hitting.
There’s a first time for everything.
The first time he raises his voice.
The first time it scares you.
The first time he punches the wall.
The first time he hits you instead of the wall.
I wish I could say it was just the one time, but it wasn’t. It took him showing up and scaring the shit out of me before I was done with him for good.
I cast a nervous glance down the hallway in the hope that one of my neighbors might pop out for a smoke. Dane’s got balls, but I don’t think he’d hurt me if we had an audience.
“You should go,” I say, hating how weak and pathetic I sound. My heart is a frantic drumbeat in my chest, and I get the feeling that he knows exactly the effect he has on me.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I say with as much steadiness as I can manage, drawing my shoulders back and forcing myself to meet his gaze. Dane might have hurt me, but he’s not getting anywhere near my baby.
Summoning up my last shred of courage, I shove past him and jam my key into the lock. I won’t feel safe until he’s gone, but if I can just get inside and close the door, then I’ll know he can’t hurt me.
My hands are shaking so badly that it takes me several seconds to get the door unlocked. I open it a few inches, intending to slip inside, but then Dane’s massive hand shoots out — shoving the door wide open.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s crowding me into my apartment and slamming the door behind us.
A familiar terror squeezes my insides, and adrenaline floods my system. My mind flashes back to that night in my old apartment, and I get the horrible sinking feeling that it’s going to be even worse this time.
This time, I’m not the only one who might get hurt.
SEBASTIAN
I make it to the north edge of Colorado Springs just in time to hit rush-hour traffic. It’s bumper to bumper from Garden of the Gods to Nevada Avenue, and by the time I pull off I-25, my wolf is ready to rip somebody’s head off.
I come to a stop at a red light, and my beast growls as a homeless man shuffles toward my window. He’s draped in a filthy sleeping bag, and his hands are red and swollen from the cold. He’s got the rotten teeth of a long-time drug user, and his eyes are sunken and lifeless.
Blazing through a light, I whip into the alley behind the Vietnamese restaurant and park beside the dumpster. My fully loaded Mercedes G550 sticks out like a sore thumb around here, and I hit the lock button twice.
Slinking around the corner, I spot a familiar rusted blue pickup and catch the sour musk of bear.
My wolf’s hackles go up.
Murphy is here. Now. After all these months of searching.
A satisfied growl works its way up my chest, and my skin itches with the urge to shift.
Soon , I promise my wolf.
Soon Murphy will be nothing but a cold pelt at our feet, but I need to get him alone to make the kill. Even with the cover of darkness, there’s too much activity this time of night. Someone is bound to see .
Ideally, I’d like to leave Claire Belmont out of it, but I won’t let Murphy slip through my fingers again.
There’s fresh graffiti spray-painted on the wall facing the parking lot, and the walkway out front is littered with cigarette butts. Following the stink of bear, I move silently up the stairs along the outside of the building.
Low, angry voices reach my ears. They’re coming from the other side of the closed door in front of me, but my sensitive shifter hearing picks up on every word.
A woman is speaking, her voice shaky and fearful. “You can’t be here, Dane. We broke up.”
“We didn’t break up. You left — ran away like a scared little bitch. That don’t mean it’s over.”
My hands curl into fists, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from snarling. That’s the problem with men like Murphy. They just can’t take a hint.
The woman scoffs, but even through the flimsy door, I can smell her fear.
“I ran because you hurt me,” she says. “I’m sorry but . . . it’s over.”
Thunderous footfalls shake the landing, and it takes all of my willpower to remain rooted to the spot. I can’t just burst into this poor woman’s flat. I don’t want her to witness the carnage when I rip her ex apart.
But then Murphy speaks again, and I can barely hear him over the roar of blood in my ears. “It ain’t over ’til I say it’s over. ”
I bare my teeth, practically foaming at the mouth at the audacity of this bastard.
Before he gave us all the slip, Murphy put Adrian’s mate through hell. He beat her and belittled her until she believed she didn’t deserve any better. Now he’s doing it to this poor girl.
Murphy thinks he owns her, and after a few more months of his abuse, Claire will start to believe it too.
My skin suddenly feels much too tight. My wolf is pushing to the fore, demanding to be unmuzzled.
But I can’t shift in front of a human. That’s a mess I don’t need.
Then the woman speaks again, and the devastating resolve in her wobbly voice does something to my animal. “I said it’s over, Dane, “Now get out , or I’ll —”
“Or you’ll what ?” Murphy’s voice is dripping with fury and scorn, and my wolf registers the threat.
I don’t consciously decide to shift. I just start shucking off clothes.
A roar vibrates through my chest, but it didn’t come from me. It came from the other side of the door. The landing trembles as the woman screams, and the sound snaps the last of my self-control.
Sweet agony swamps my body as I succumb to the Change. Fur spreads over my skin as bones and ligaments rip apart. My wolf bursts out of me, and I land on four paws — remade and ready to kill.
There’s a groan of metal as I barrel into the door, ripping it half off its hinges. A dozen unfamiliar smells bombard my senses, but my wolf brain only registers hers.
She smells like sunshine and honeysuckle, and I latch onto that scent. My gaze snags on the woman crouched beside a grubby brown recliner, and I realize that I was wrong.
Claire Belmont isn’t some human. The woman is a fucking angel.
Wispy white-blond curls frame a terrified face set off by a pair of lush pink lips. Her eyes are the color of sea glass, and they are wide with horror.
Mine .
The instinct roars through me with such certainty that it steals my breath away.
Claire Belmont is mine to protect.
Mine to claim.
Mine to kill for.
I must have made an audible sound, because her eyes focus on me. Claire’s mouth opens in a terrified scream, but I snap my head around and focus on the real threat — the gigantic, hulking bear.
In animal form, Murphy probably weighs close to eight hundred pounds. And even though I’m larger than a mundane wolf, I am still outmatched.
So I go for his throat.
The bear roars as I sink my fangs through fur and flesh, and Murphy thrashes to dislodge me. Razor-sharp claws rake across my back, but I refuse to let go. The scent of Claire’s panic mixes with the tang of blood, and my predatory instincts kick into overdrive .
I lose myself in the clash of teeth and claws, but then Murphy hits me with a strike that sends me flying into the edge of the coffee table.
Stars erupt in my vision, but I am fully wolf. And a wild wolf will fight to the death to defend what is his.
Rolling to my feet, I lunge at the bear. Murphy roars in pain as my fangs rip through his pelt, taking a piece of him with me.
The bear shakes his head, and then he starts to retreat — backing toward the door.
I hold my ground in the middle of Claire’s living room, hackles up and teeth bared. Thick ropes of drool hang from my jaws, some of it dripping onto the carpet. My senses are alive from the scent of blood and bear. I am ravenous for the kill.
But then the huge bear backs onto the landing, and I hear a distant scream. He turns and blunders off into the night, leaving me alone with Claire.