Rebecca Zanetti - Twisted

Now was not the time to flirt. “Malone?” she snorted.

“My name is actually cutesy Maggie Malone?”

“Yes.”

Her heart glitched in hope. “I’m from an island?”

“Yes. Vaile Island off of Scotland.”

Slowly, cautiously, she opened her mouth. “Do I, uh, have family?”

His eyes darkened, and he patted her back. Well, that massive hand smacked her back. But he tried. “No. No family, sweetheart.”

Surprising that hearing the truth she’d already known hurt. “Oh.”

“Except me.” He smacked her again.

God keep her from enormous wolves trying to comfort her. “I don’t know you.”

“Do you need to see the fangs again?”

She barked out a laugh—she couldn’t help it. For being a killer, the guy was kind of charming. And sweet. “No. I’m good.” She settled her chin on her hands, keeping his gaze.

“Why haven’t you told me any of this before?” She wanted to like him . . . but she might end up trying to kill him.

He sighed. “The wolves on Vaile Island are, ah, special.

They can mask their scents—and the world is unaware of the ability. Not even the vampires know the truth.”

“So they hide from people?” Her people were cowards?

“Ah, no. They’re contract assassins and soldiers.” His gaze wandered to her face. “So if I would’ve told you, or the vampires, then you would’ve been returned to the Vaile pack. Believe me, you didn’t want to be returned. So I figured I’d let your memories come back on their own, especially since I couldn’t be there for you while the war was exploding and I needed to fight.”

Her head started to ache. “So why tell me now?”

“Our contacts have informed us that the Vailes have discovered you’re alive, so I wanted you to know the whole truth.”

About damn time. “Why wouldn’t I have wanted to go home?” she whispered.

He sighed. “You were raised by your grandpa, and when he died, you had a falling-out with the new Alpha wolf, so you headed out on your own.”

“Falling-out?”

“Yes. Felix McClure is an insane son of a bitch, and when you refused to mate him, he went crazy. You fled.”

Good thing she’d trained with shifters and vampires the last decade. “I’d like to meet up with him.”

“He probably sent the wolves to get you now that everyone knows you’re alive.”

So they weren’t in town to kill her—only fetch her. “McClure’s crazy enough to want me back after all this time?”

“Yep. You’re from the strongest line of wolves who can mask, and you’re in demand, sweetheart.”

His eyes had veiled enough for her to wonder. What was he not telling her? “Why were you hunting me?” More important, why had she agreed to mate him?

He brushed hair away from her face. “Your grandpa saved my life in the last war and I owed him. He called me right before he died, and I agreed to find you and help you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you caught up to me. What happened?”

“We fell in love and decided to mate.” Terrent’s jaw firmed. “It’s the best course of action to keep you safe.”

Emotional and logical? Doubtful. She frowned.

“Okay. It took persuasion, but you did agree.” He sighed.

“As for my part, I owe your grandpa, I like you, and I’m ready to have a family.”

That was kind of sweet. And the erection digging into her belly showed he did like her. A lot. “So what happened?”

“You changed your mind and took off . . . the Kurjans somehow found you . . . and you know the rest.” Anger blazed through Terrent’s dark eyes.

Well, that did sound like her. Kind of. “Why did I change my mind?”

He shrugged. “We couldn’t agree about what to do after we mated. I needed to continue hunting on the Bane’s Council, and I wanted you somewhere safe.”

“I didn’t want safety?” That didn’t sound like her. She loved safety.

He sighed. “No. You wanted to train to fight.”

“I can fight.” She’d trained for years while waiting for her memories to return. They had to return so she could move on, so she could start living again.

“Do you like fighting?” Wisdom filled his eyes along with challenge.

“Nobody likes fighting.” She hated hitting people, in fact.

No way did the wolf know her so well.

“You hate fighting.” His hands flexed. “You’re a genius at strategy, and you love people. But you thought you should fight because of your lineage.”

“So I didn’t fit in, even with my own people.” The assassins who were her people, that is. Damn. Maybe she was born to be a misfit.

“Not really.” Terrent’s palms heated her skin. “You fit with me, though.”

Sweet. Very sweet. “I left you.”

“We had a silly fight, you went to cool off, the Kurjans kidnapped you.” His voice lowered to guttural.

“I don’t even remember being taken by the Kurjans,” she said. “We’ve never found records of what exactly they infected me with during that time.” Her mind was an empty, black hole. But, after two inoculations, she was feeling damn good—almost a hundred percent. Her damn memories just had to return.

“I’ve been trying for ten years—trying to get information. To discover why not only the Kurjans but also the demons want you.” He shook his head.

Yeah, the demons were at war with the Realm, and they had a hit out on Maggie, but it had never made any sense. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a demon,” she said.

“You don’t want to.”

Considering they’d hurt her friend, Jase, she wished they’d disappear.

A bird twittered high above. Maggie swallowed. She should probably get off the wolf. Getting all cozy with him seemed wrong, considering she was actually in town to investigate him, and any other wolf who might be tampering with the inoculations for shifters. The inoculations that kept them safe from the Kurjan virus. He wouldn’t mess with the vials, would he?

A breeze whispered through the forest. Life hummed around them with the scents of pine and jasmine.

She couldn’t look away from his hard face.

The anger morphed to something darker in his eyes. Tension wound through the peaceful afternoon. He studied her much like a hawk spotting prey. Tingles sprang to life down her back, and warmth spiraled through her abdomen.

His heated palms pressed down just enough to rub her against his cock.

Her mind blanked.

A low growl rumbled up from his gut, rolling along her breasts. Her nipples sprang to attention. Fire rushed through her so quickly her lungs compressed. She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

He slowly lifted his head, determination and dare flaring across his rugged cheekbones. Then his mouth captured hers.

Kissing.

Heating.

Taking.

She closed her eyes on a whimper. White-hot mini-explosions rocketed through her brain. Her fingers clutched his thick hair, and her knees dropped to either side of his hips. Her tongue shot into his mouth, and his hands tightened on her waist. For two seconds she controlled the kiss.

Maybe.

The world spun. Her butt landed on the soft pine needles, and a wolf in human form stretched out on top of her. The kiss shot from intriguing to territorial. His elbows bracketed her, his chest flattened hers, and his hard—oh-so-hard—dick pulsed with a demand she could feel through her jeans. Her clit pounded in perfect time with it.

He released her mouth, sliding his lips along her jaw to nip her earlobe. She arched into him. With a chuckle, he wandered down her neck, licking her collarbone, and took one breast in his mouth.

Electricity ripped straight to her sex.

“Shirt—in—way,” he mumbled against the cotton.