Prowl (Winter Pass Wolves Book 3) by Vivian Wood, Amelie Hunt Page A

can't bring myself to kill you, but you have to leave. Don't make me decide between my own life and yours."
    "Avery—" Chase tried.
    "Don't come back. I mean it, Chase. If I lay eyes on you again, if I see you near the Compound, near my apartment, even at the bar where we met… I will kill you, Chase. I won't think twice about it next time."
    Chase rose, towering over Avery's own five and a half foot frame. She watched him for a long beat, drinking in the sight of him. That big frame, thickly muscled, pure and lean just like the wolf inside him. That ruggedly handsome face, chiseled jaw, and those startling green eyes… She memorized every detail, knowing she'd never encounter another man quite like Chase.
    Chase turned and walked to the door, pausing with one hand on the door frame, the barest moment away from crossing the threshold of her apartment and vanishing from her life forever. When he hesitated, almost starting to look back at her, something broke inside Avery. She raised the gun again and fired a shot, deliberately missing him and instead hitting the wall just inches away from his shoulder.
    Chase tensed, determination filling his stance. He strode out of the apartment without a backward glance, giving Avery exactly what she asked for…
    And yet, somehow, still breaking her heart at the same time.
    The gun fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. Avery's knees went out from under her. She let herself sink to the floor, mirroring the same position Chase had been in only minutes before. A strangled sob poured from her throat, a soft keen of anguish.
    As hard as it was to see him go, the practical part of Avery was glad, relieved. Though she ached, hands trembling, tears tracking down her face, in her heart she knew.
    She’d done the only thing she could, the only thing that would save them both.

    A very opened her eyes and squinted up at the mattress of the top bunk bed above her head, swimming up from the inky blackness of sleep. She rolled over in her cramped dorm-style bed, frowning at the deep ache in every muscle of her body. Why was she awake? She'd intentionally put herself through the ringer all through the day, taking advantage of the Compound’s ropes course and obstacle course before working herself into a fine frenzy as she ran eight miles flat out on the indoor track. Though the Compound served mainly as a paramilitary bunker and command center for the Hunters, some smart person had insisted that the Hunters install every manner of state-of-the-art workout equipment possible.
    Whoever that person was, they were probably Avery’s only friend at this point. Make that imaginary friend .
    Avery shivered, brushing her hands over her sweat-dampened t-shirt and cotton leggings, standard issue sleepwear for Hunter women. Standard issue pillow, standard issue blanket, standard issue bunk room even though she was one of only three women staying in this particular dormitory. There were at least four more dormitories just like it on the other side of the Compound for the men… Perhaps this bunk room had been set aside with the idea that more women would gradually join the Hunters ranks over time.
    Then again… When it came to werewolf-hating, conspiracy-theory-loving, pseudo-military crazies like the entirety of Avery's family, it was impossible to know what they were really thinking, what they had planned.
    A soft buzz startled her. Her illicit burner cell phone, buzzing under her pillow. That must've been what awakened her from an otherwise deep and dreamless night's sleep. Avery slipped her hand under her pillow and grasped the phone, carefully silencing the buzzing alert. Biting her lip and holding her breath, Avery stilled and listened for signs of movement or awareness around her.
    The other two women in her bunk, mysterious new recruits that Avery barely knew except to say that they were unmarried female Hunters like herself, slept on in blissful silence. Once Avery's heart slowed, she sat up