Wolf at the Door by Sadie Hart

fuck if he couldn’t bring himself to
feel bad about kissing her. Not when he wanted nothing more than to
do it all again. And more.
    Lord help him, but he wanted more.
     

 
    Chapter Nine
    Timber touched
her lips as she watched Brandt walk out her door. A Hound. She’d
never believed a Hound might be a man worth giving a damn about.
But something about him turned everything she’d thought about
Hounds upside down and inside out. She wanted to trust him, wanted
to believe him, and it scared her.
    Her tongue teased out over her lips, tasting
the memory of his kiss. How many times did she have to remind
herself that a man like Brandt could hurt her in ways no one else
could? Because he made her want to care about someone else for the
first time in very long time. Oh, sure, she looked out for her
pack, but she would never have let them in.
    Leaning on the banister, her elbows braced
against the smooth wood, she pressed her face into her hands. God.
She’d thought this nightmare was over. Believed that, after three
years, Charles would never find her.
    When she looked up, her eyes strayed to the
couch and the fear that had begun to stir eased again. Falling
asleep in Brandt’s arms probably hadn’t been the smartest thing
she’d ever done, but she’d felt safe. If Charles had walked through
that door last night, she would have been safe.
    “You hope,” she muttered. But she’d thought
she was safe before, when she’d sought shelter in a Shifter Town
Enforcement headquarters.
    Blowing out a breath, she forced herself to
move. She needed breakfast. Even if she didn’t feel like eating,
she needed the fuel. Running around last night had been a blessing,
but that much activity required sustenance. And worry, fear, all
the wild tangle of emotions battering her, depleted her even
more.
    She took out her notebook as she waited for
the toaster to pop, jotting down ideas for her current project. Her
phone rang behind her and she jumped at the sound, shrill in the
silence, followed by the pop of toaster. She didn’t even bother to
glance at the caller ID when she picked up.
    “Hello?”
    A low growl sounded over the line and she
froze, one hand clutching at the counter. Because she recognized
that voice. “Tim-berrrrr.”
    He said her name like a logger might as tree
fell in the forest, drawn out, a sound that would carry miles. It
prickled down her spine like an electric shock, making her knees
give way until she was crouched on the floor, still stupidly
clinging to the counter as if she had any strength left to pull
herself up.
    Her wolf had turned frantic, the beast
clawing frantically inside her, desperate to break out. To break
free. To run. God, they had to run, right now, and go so far that
he could never find her. But running hadn’t worked last time. He’d
found her. And something told her he’d always find her.
    “What do you want, Charles?” She forced the
words out. They sounded calmer than the roaring emotions in her
head. Her voice didn’t even tremble, despite the fact that she
shaking so hard her teeth should have been chattering.
    “You don’t belong to him.” She could feel his
anger as if it were something physical, something that could reach
through the phone and grab her by her throat. Her hands were
suddenly icy, her lungs so cold she couldn’t breathe. “He can’t
stay with you every night.”
    Brandt.
    Charles had been watching
her— them —last night?
    “I don’t belong to anyone. Not even you.” She
yanked the phone away from her ear and hung up, his answering roar
of rage cut off when the phone disconnected. She leaned her
forehead against the cool wooden cabinets, but it didn’t stop the
clutch and heave of her stomach. She twisted, trying to drag
herself to the trash can, but she couldn’t move fast enough.
    She vomited on the kitchen tile right before
she passed out.
     
    ***
     
    Kim Dawson squirmed in her chair across from
Brandt, her gaze constantly seeking out the wolf