Jasmine

PAIN RIPS THROUGH ME—A burning, gauging pain.

He bit me.

I don’t believe it, but Tom flies back and lands onto his ass on the floor, blood dripping from oversized canines.

And his eyes.

Ice. Blue.

Just like the wolf in the stairwell. Like the wolf at the cabin.

Cold gooseflesh runs across my arms. No. It can’t be.

Werewolves don’t exist.

But there’s no other explanation. Tom is a freaking werewolf!

And he bit me—the man I would’ve sworn this morning would protect me from anything.

“Get back!” I shout even though he’s already retreated. Hands shaking, I grab the Glock from my purse and cock it. Blood soaks my t-shirt around my right shoulder.

Flashes of what I’ve already seen run through my mind. Tom’s need to go out alone for night runs. The wolf tearing at the door of the cabin. The wolf appearing in the stairwell while Tom went off comms. It all fi