Page 17 of Moon Destiny

BROOKE

The werewolf instruction manual was a heck of a lot more interesting than the Bible. Not that I had a lot of experience with the latter. My mother had made a halfhearted effort to send me to Sunday School when I was a kid, but she’d been a young widow working two jobs. Sundays had been her one day off, and she’d eventually dropped church so we could spend those few precious hours together. She’d made even the most ordinary things fun, turning our ranch-style house’s minuscule patio into a picnic area so we could eat outside during the humid Seattle summers.

I really needed to call her.

Unfortunately, my new prison didn’t have a phone. I tossed the book Hugh had given me on the bed and glared at the bedroom door. As he’d promised, someone had delivered breakfast this morning—and Dylan had brought up an absolutely insane amount of food last night.

I’d eaten everything. Then I’d locked myself in the bathroom, cranked up the temperature in the shower, and indulged in an ugly cry that left me drained and starving. Now it was nearly lunchtime and my stomach was already raring to go.

Seriously, I was going to get as big as a house if this continued.

A knock on the door made me jump. Right away, my thoughts leapt to Hugh. Had he changed his mind about letting me leave? After our weird staring contest—and my body’s embarrassing response to him—last night, I hadn’t been brave enough to try the door.

Something that made anger fire hot in my veins now. He might be a werewolf king or alpha or whatever, but that didn’t give him the right to hold me against my will. This was America.

Resolved, I marched to the door and opened it.

A young woman stood in the hall. She was pretty and petite, with blue eyes and glossy brown hair. And she was holding several shopping bags in each hand.

She was also a werewolf. A faint hint of evergreen teased my nose. It was like Hugh’s scent but also different. Weaker…and missing the notes of leather and cologne I hadn’t been able to stop sucking into my lungs.

“I’m Julia,” she said. She lifted the bags a little. “The alpha sent me to buy clothes for you.”

I stared at the bags. “Hugh?”

She gave me a look like she was trying to decide if I was stupid. “Yes, Hugh. The alpha.” She paused, then added, “These are getting heavy.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” I stepped back, feeling like the idiot she probably thought I was. As she dropped the bags on the bed, my heart sank. If Hugh had sent her out for clothes, he had no intention of reversing his order for me to stay put. Even if I somehow got my hands on a phone and called the police, what would I tell them? That I’d been bitten by a werewolf who was now holding me captive? The newsroom at the Seattle Dispatch got bogus “tips” like that all the time—and we promptly dismissed them as pranks.

Julia ran a critical look down my body. “I had to guess your size. Hugh said you were tall and seemed to think that was enough information.”

I smiled. “Typical man.”

“He isn’t typical at all,” she said, not returning my smile. “He’s the most dominant wolf in the Pacific Pack.”

Okay. “Yes. He told me last night.” Immediately, my cheeks heated at how suggestive that sounded. I cleared my throat. “Um. Thank you for the clothes.” I plucked at the gray sweatshirt I’d been forced to put back on after my shower. “I was starting to think I might have to wear this forever.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Try everything on. Leave anything that doesn’t fit on the dresser and I’ll take it back tomorrow.”

Out of nowhere, an odd sensation streaked through me. It was hot…and angry. Hardly aware of what I was doing, I stepped toward her—and something deep inside me was pleased when she had to tip her head back to meet my gaze.

Her eyes narrowed, and a flush spread up her neck. But she didn’t back up.

Wait. What was I doing? I stopped, strangely disoriented. For a split second, the room seemed to spin like I had a hangover. I shook my head and the sensation immediately cleared.

Julia watched me…and now her fists were balled at her sides like she was restraining herself from throwing a punch. It was like she’d bottled something up and had decided to let it out. Slowly, her blue eyes lightened, her irises brighter than the morning sky outside the windows.

What the hell? Was everyone in this place as insane as Hugh?

“Thanks for the clothes,” I said tightly, not caring if my tone was less than grateful. I just wanted her out of my room. “I appreciate you bringing them.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” She spoke through clenched teeth, her smaller frame practically vibrating with fury. “I did it because the alpha ordered me to. For some reason, he thought turning a human was a good idea.” She said “human” the way someone might say “dog vomit.”

For a second, I was too surprised to speak. Then the hot, angry feeling rushed up my back. It spread over my nape and then I was baring my teeth as I said, “He turned me to save my life. Or maybe you think he should have let me die?”

“You’re weak,” she spat. “The rogues are out for blood and you’re the last thing this pack needs.”

In a heartbeat, I had her backed against the wall next to the door, my face an inch from hers. “Go ahead and call me weak again,” I growled. My voice was deep, and something within me stirred.

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