THE BILLIONAIRE WEREWOLF AND HIS DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

“ I don’t care who you think you are. You can’t just show up after fifteen years and tell me to marry some stranger!”The words flew out; my voice trembling with sobs but sharp enough to cut.“You will marry him! It's not by choice. It's the only way that you will be protected. I know that you're scared…,” he said, hands raised in a half-pacifying gesture. “Scared?” My laugh was bitter and cynical.“I was just attacked by four big dog monsters trying to bite my head off! So no, Christopher, I’m not scared; I’m terrified. Which is why I’m calling the police.”He blocked my path. “You can’t. They’ll trace the call and know where we are. What we need to do is to move. Now.”“They? Who is they? Who’s after me? What were those things? Who sent them?” My heart thundered as I headed for the kitchen. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you explain.”He swallowed hard, like the truth itself had weighed his tongue down. “Those things were werewolves. The ones you saw today; we call them hel

CHAPTER 3“He doesn’t like to be late, young mistress.” Irene said out of breath as she pushed the door open.Luke was already there. With his back to us, he stood before a twenty-foot mural of a massacred village with a towering werewolf standing on a heap of human skulls. His silhouette was still, unflinching and mysterious. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand.He was six-foot-five of devastating charm wrapped in shadow, his jet-black hair tousled like it forgot to behave, carelessly enough to look like a hot mess. His lips too perfect to mean anything true.“I’m ready,” I said. Despite the circumstances, I felt nice after showering and wearing something comfortable.Luke turned and his eyes lingered on my dress. It was impressive to know that he had measured me silently with his eyes when we were in Marlowe’s office.“It’s a perfect fit,” I offered, trying for peace.We were married against our wishes, but that didn’t mean we had to hate each other.Luke’s expression didn’t shift

“I’m married to Luke Elderman, son of Marlowe Elderman, owner of the Elderman fortune,” I said, panicking as a pack of wolves surrounded me as if they didn’t already know who I was.Panic surged through me as I picked up a stick to defend myself, as if a stick was a match to their teeth foaming with saliva.There was no escape. I shouldn’t have left the castle, I thought, regretting the decisions that led me up to this moment.I wondered where Desmond was, whether he knew I was being attacked and whether he had gone to get help.I was going to die.One of the werewolves leaped at me with force, but I swerved out of the way in time and landed the stick forcefully on its neck before it had the chance to stand up.The other werewolves didn’t like that I was able to get an upper hand, so another leapt at me with brute force that toppled me.I hit my head on a rock, and I felt that it was the same place that was stitched earlier. I touched my head, felt the blood gushing like a stream, and

Joyce's povI hummed the tune of 'Graffiti' in my pajamas, hair in a messy bun, waiting for Irene to bring breakfast. Ever since the incident with Desmond, Marlowe had made sure I was locked in, a wolf stationed beneath my side of the castle in case I tried another impulsive escape.They didn’t trust me. Not Marlowe, not Luke, not even Irene. She hadn’t looked me in the eye since the incident. When she came in and I greeted her, she muttered something from a distance, practically throwing my food at me. I couldn’t say I blamed her. I didn’t trust myself either. She must have hated me for getting her master injured.Luke.His wound had looked bad the last time I saw it—rotting, spreading. But what did I know? I had given up on medical school for culinary school.I shouldn’t have cared if he died. I didn’t even know him. But I did care. He had saved me. Twice. When we got back to the castle and Marlowe tightened his hand on my arm, his angry scowl so deep I thought he’d snap bone, Luke

Luke’s POVLight streamed through the curtains and woke me to silence. It was the kind of silence that felt unnatural. The last thing I remembered was not being able to move. Irene had been crying over me.I thought back to the first time I found her. She was only a girl. Her father tried to barter her away to pay off his debt to me.I brought her to the castle and told her she was not a captive. I told her she was free to leave if she wanted to. But she stayed.She has served me for thirty years. My most loyal servant. People like her are rare, so I kept her.I lay staring at the ceiling until I felt breath against my arm.Joyce.She was curled in a ball at the side of my bed. Her hair flung wide as if it could set fire to the room. Her face was buried against my side. Her right hand folded between us. Her left hand draped across my abdomen.Her breathing was steady. Gentle, as though she had just slipped into a dream.I reached and stroked her hair, praying the touch would not wake