He might have some competition if he doesn’t put a more permanent version of his scent on her soon.

We stare at each other, the stalemate only breaking with the click of the gas pump to let me know my tank is full.

“Auto shop. Third Avenue.” I give her the answer like it pains me when, really, I’m not all that reluctant.

Warner is a grown man. I don’t need to protect him from intelligent women. He needs to learn to protect himself.

Zoey’s face settles into a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll let Warner know what a devoted brother he has.”

“Don’t do that,” I respond too quickly, already hearing the relentless teasing Warner would subject me to if he found out the circles this woman talked around me.

She shakes her head with a smirk. “Brothers. All right. I’ll keep your secret. But only because you were helpful.”

I watch her peer around until her eyes alight on the street signs.

Zoey offers me a nod of her own, which I pick up a slight teasing edge to.

Guess I did nod at her a lot.

I’m just about to throw my leg over my bike when⁠—

“Roderick”—she’s on the curb now, staring at me with a stern expression—“you should be wearing a helmet.”

Then, she turns and strolls off, thankfully focused on tormenting another Jameson.

28

WARNER

I’ve been working on this bike for two hours, the practice normally meditative. But I can’t get Zoey out of my mind.

The events of a few nights ago play on a loop in my head, an old black-and-white monster movie, jerky and poorly constructed. Like my decision-making.

She’s gone.

I fucked up my chance with the only woman who’s ever made my wolf as restless as the full moon. For the first time in a long time, the beast and I are in complete agreement.

We want Zoey Gunner.

Then, an image stutters across my mind. The brave, enthusiastic woman of my dreams, staring at me with blank eyes. My teeth grind together at the memory of her complete shift in personality. Zoey shut down, as if she needed to protect herself.

From me.

She thinks I’m a monster.

She’s not wrong. A portion of the town thinks the wolves are terrifying creatures to be placated so we don’t fill the streets with blood.

Not that we ever would.

But we could.

Sometimes, I worry my wolf will wake and demand more control. That the animal in me will overwhelm the logic of my human half. That I’ll do something to deserve fear.

A vibration fills my ears with a rumbling noise. It takes me a moment to realize I’m growling.

Just like a monster would.