Page 46 of Howl You Doin'

Fiona tried to summon her flames, but Rachelle's weight made it hard to breathe, let alone focus. The two other wolves circled them, their low growls mixing with the sound of traffic in the distance.

"Though," Rachelle continued, "you might be useful after all. Victor would love to see how Caleb reacts when we hold his little pet hostage. Maybe then he'll finally show some real backbone instead of hiding behind festival decorations and playground equipment."

"You talk way too much." Fiona managed between shallow breaths.

Determined to break free, rage boiled up in Fiona's veins, hotter than any flame she'd ever conjured. Her magic surged, responding to her fury, and she let out a primal scream as fire exploded outward from her body in all directions.

Rachelle yelped,jumping back as flames singed her clothes. The two other wolves scattered, their fur smoking.

"That's designer, you psycho!" Rachelle patted out the flames on her jacket.

Fiona rolled to her feet, wobbling slightly. "Send me the dry cleaning bill. Oh wait, you can't afford it on a minion's salary."

She thrust both hands forward, sending a wave of fire between herself and the wolves. The heat made the air shimmer, distorting their shapes through the flames. Her head throbbed where it had hit the concrete, making it hard to focus.

"After her!" Rachelle's command was followed by snarling as the wolves gave chase.

Fiona sprinted down the street, her boots pounding against the pavement. Each step sent jolts of pain through her ribs where Rachelle had pinned her. She turned down an alley, knocking over trash cans behind her with bursts of magic.

"Note to self," she panted, "start doing cardio."

A wolf lunged at her from the side. Fiona ducked and rolled, coming up with her hands blazing. The fire caught the wolf's tail, sending it yelping back into the shadows.

She zigzagged through back streets, using quick bursts of flame to keep her pursuers at bay. Her magic was draining fast, each spell leaving her more exhausted than the last.

"This is what I get for skipping breakfast," she muttered, ducking behind a dumpster. "Should've had that second scone at Nina's."

Blood trickled down her temple, and her jacket was torn in several places. Her ribs screamed in protest with each breath. But the sounds of pursuit had faded.

Fiona slumped against the brick wall, letting out a shaky laugh. "Well, that was fun. Nothing like a near-death experience to really spice up a girl's night out."

She touched her side gingerly,wincing. Definitely bruised ribs. Her head spun when she tried to stand straight, and her magic felt like a flickering candle rather than its usual bonfire.

"Okay, Fiona," she whispered to herself. "Time to decide - hospital, home, or handsome alpha wolf's place? Decisions, decisions..."

Fiona stumbled through the quiet suburban streets, using mailboxes and parked cars for support. Each step sent daggersthrough her ribs. The world tilted sideways every few steps, forcing her to pause and wait for her vision to settle.

"This is what I get for antagonizing wolf shifters," she muttered, checking street signs. "Next time remember to bring pepper spray. Or a tank."

Caleb's house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac, a two-story craftsman with a wraparound porch. Security lights illuminated the well-kept lawn. Her magic flickered weakly as she dragged herself up the steps, barely enough spark left to light a birthday candle.

She knocked on the door, then leaned heavily against the frame. "Please be home, please be home..."

The porch light flicked on. Caleb opened the door, wearing sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that did wonderful things for his shoulders. His eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Surprise?" Fiona attempted a smile, pretty sure there was blood in her teeth. "Don't suppose you have a first aid kit and some aspirin?"

"What happened?" He caught her as her knees buckled, scooping her up like she weighed nothing.

19

CALEB

The knock jolted Caleb from his paperwork. His wolf senses tingled - something was wrong. The scent hit him before he reached the door: blood mixed with Fiona's familiar cinnamon-and-smoke essence.

He flicked the porch light on and opened the door quickly. His eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Surprise?" Fiona attempted to smile. He saw there was blood in her teeth. "Don't suppose you have a first aid kit and some aspirin?"

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