Page 2 of Restoring His Howl

“Trust me. Dillon’s shy, but if you’ve lived on your own as long as he has, existing on the fringe, you’d be quiet and cautious, too. Give him a chance to be himself. Show him who you are, and let nature take its course.” Ryan grinned. “See you tomorrow at eight.” He winked then left, still holding the bag of jerky.

Cinders sagged against the counter. Fuck. He hadn’t been given much choice. He was supposed to go to a costume party, but at least, he’d get to see Dillon—if Dillon showed up. He flattened his palms on the granite countertop. If Dillon didn’t attend, Cinders would dazzle everyone else in his raunchy cop outfit. Maybe, he’d even bust out his stripper moves to liven up the party. Would Ryan appreciate that? Probably not. Oh well. Cinders would never know unless he tried. He doubted he’d glean any clues about the next chapter in his life at the get together, but at least, he’d be able to move forward.

* * * *

Dillon stared at the piece of paper in his hands. An invitation to a party. Didn’t Ryan understand the fresh hell of being with so many people? And in costume no less! Christ. Dillon hated costumes almost as much as he detested crowds.

He ducked into the shadows on the back porch and watched the other shifters roam the grassy area behind the mansion. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay at the Sanctuary. The place was safer than being alone, but in his six months there, he’d barely spoken to anyone besides Ryan. He didn’t know any of the other shifters. He’d done plenty of observing, though. The human and the set of twins he’d mated with were always fucking and so nosy. He barely left the suite and only with the twins—Dillon hadn’t wanted the suite next to them, but he had no choice. Markas, the alpha, wasn’t bad but seemed to glare a lot. He could be menacing when crossed. John, Markas’ human, was nice enough. Neither John nor Markas made passes at him, which helped. Ryan was decent and chatty. He could be a tad pushy, but he meant well.

The rest of the shifters? Dillon couldn’t name them if he tried. They didn’t bother him, and he kept out of sight. Now, Ryan wanted him to attend a damn party.

Christ.

Dillon inched into the house and listened for any other shifters. When he heard nothing, he started through the kitchen to the main staircase. He longed for the safety and quiet of his room. The twins and human were gone for the time being. Thank God. He wasn’t in the mood to hear the “oh fuck me” chorus again. He tipped his head and listened for anyone on the second floor. Hearing no one, he darted into his room.

His mind wandered. Flashes of his former life filled his brain. He shuddered. Each memory of having sex on camera, the sting of the whip and crop on his skin, being forced to sleep with men and women for audiences…shifting, parading around in his wolf form then shifting back to do a sex scene—all on film or transmitted over the internet… It all churned his stomach.

He bit back a scream. He and his wolf had gone through the motions and lived in hell. By the time he’d escaped, the wolf’s black fur had turned gray. The hairs were matted, and mange had set in after a while. If he’d have spent a few more days in the sex house, he’d have died.

But he was safe now.

He forced himself to breathe. The wolf stirred within him. It wanted freedom and to mate. But with whom? There weren’t any other wolves at the Sanctuary.

He started into the hallway then stopped when he spotted Cinders. Shit. Dillon ducked behind his door to stay out of sight. He should’ve shut it, but he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to his hiding spot. Also, now, he wanted to watch Cinders. The man fascinated him. According to the gossip he’d overheard, Cinders was the guy’s real name. No wonder. When he shifted into a panther, his dark skin morphed into equally beautiful black fur. The cat’s glossy coat reminded Dillon of Cinders. When Cinders strode around in his human form, his skin shimmered.

Dillon had seen plenty of bodies of every color, but none were as pretty as Cinders. He wanted to rub his face in Cinders’ fur, to breathe him in, drag his tongue along Cinders’ throat and feel him against his skin.

“Hi.” Cinders stood in the doorway. “Do you always hang out behind your door?”

Fuck…

“No.” Dillon inched out from behind the door and faced Cinders.

“You can talk. Well, fuck me. That’s amazing. I thought you could, but since you don’t, I wondered. You’ve got a nice voice,” Cinders said. He grinned, his bright teeth standing out against his mocha skin. “You’re cute, too.”

Dillon longed to taste Cinders’ mouth and kiss him. Would it feel like heaven?

“So we’re supposed to be at a party tomorrow. I’ve got some costumes. Most of it is tear-away stuff, but it’ll work for one night. You’re welcome to try on anything I’ve got and find something that fits. I’ve got dibs on the naughty cop, though.” He laughed. The throaty sound echoed in the room. “Want to?”

Dillon almost asked what Cinders meant but nodded instead.

“What? I got one word out of you, and now, you won’t talk to me?” Cinders frowned. “If you’re going to use my clothes, you’ve got to speak to me.”

The wolf stood up within Dillon and watched Cinders. The animal tensed.

For a split-second, Dillon had thought Cinders meant he’d make Dillon fuck him for the clothes. He fought the urge to shake his head. Fucking to get things was part of his old life. He had a new one here at the Sanctuary.

Cinders smiled, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Dillon managed. Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t get out any other words. He spent most of his time tongue-tied, but around Cinders, something different happened. His wolf took notice, which was unusual. The wolf distrusted more individuals than his human side did. If the wolf cared to pay Cinders attention, then that meant something, right? He needed to keep an eye on the panther shifter.

“I’m being pushy,” Cinders said. “Ryan will tell you I’m good at pushy. Quiet? Not a chance. Look, you don’t have to talk. I can do that for both of us.” He waved to his end of the corridor. “Come over when you’re ready, and pick out a costume. The jaguar and I won’t bite. Promise.”

Dillon nodded. The first step to healing had to be getting out of his comfort zone. Going with Cinders was a leap. God help him, he reallywantedto leap.

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