Page 15 of Howl for Me
“Cassidy,” she says, extending a hand. “Johnny’s assistant. Nice to meet you.”
The silence that follows is feline and sharp. Naomi doesn’t move right away. She stares at the hand like it’s a puzzle, weighing options. Bite or purr.
I shift my stance, subtly putting myself a little closer to them. My chest tightens, all hot and defensive.
I hate that I care. That I feel this sense of protectiveness, that if Naomi attacks, I need to step in for her.
But Naomi just grins, her white teeth flashing, as she takes Cassidy’s hand and gives it a lazy shake.
“Assistant, huh?” she says, shooting me a look. “Damn, Johnny. You really fucked up this time.”
She laughs, sharp and amused, but it’s at me, not Cassidy. That ache in my chest lets go a little as I rub at it.
Cassidy doesn’t flinch, but I catch the flicker in her eyes. She’s assessing the room like she’s memorizing exits. But not because she’s afraid, no, because she wants to win. She thinks this is a game she can learn to play. She appears observant and ready, but I know she’s just a fish out of water.
I head over to the rack Naomi pointed to, fingers brushing past fabrics until I find what they want: black jeans that won’t survive the shift, and a silk shirt that definitely won’t either.
It’s all about the shift. They don’t give a damn how I look before the transformation. All they want is the destruction. They want the ripping, raw, violent edge that keeps the cameras rolling and the fans coming.
Cassidy’s still lingering, eyes drinking in every detail like she’s filing it away. I watch as her gaze brushes the bathroom door, and it hits me all over again. Earlier, with her back against the sink, her breath catching when I stepped too close. The way her skin flushed, the pretty pink shade crawling up her neck. Her scent filled the air. It was warm, dizzying. My control frayed like a worn thread. I had to step back.
She didn’t run again. She should’ve. She still might.
And that’s the plan. She sees what I am, what shifting really looks like, and she bolts. End of story. I get my space back. I rip her out of my system before she sinks in any deeper. Because this ache in my chest is just as annoying as her scent.
It’s not normal.
It’s not safe.
And it sure as hell isn’t going away on its own. She’s not supposed to be here. She’s not supposed to be calm, or clever, or fucking brave.
I just have to make sure that when she sees me change and when the bones crack and the beast rips free, she runs. God help me, I need her to run.
And I need to fight the urge to chase her.
I go into the bathroom to get dressed. I tug on the shirt, buttoning it halfway up before giving up. It’s going to get destroyed, anyway. The jeans are tight, deliberately so. They want the audience to see muscle, tension, and the strain of the wolf just under the skin. I glance in the mirror. Yeah, I look good. But it’s a countdown now. Tick, tick, tick until this silk is shredded and I’m on all fours, snarling through fangs.
When I step out, Cassidy looks up and there it is. I see that flicker in her expression. It lasts just a second but I catch it. The way her lips part. The way her eyes drag over me like she’s trying not to.
This time, I roll my eyes.
“You like what you see?” I say, smirking. “Enjoy it now, sweetheart. Once I shift, you won’t be looking at me like that anymore.”
Naomi’s head tilts slightly, ears perked like she’s caught a scent.
“You’ve never seen a shift before,” she says, her tone more curious than judgmental.
“Nope.” I jerk my thumb toward Cassidy. “Princess here just found out monsters are real.”
Naomi freezes for a heartbeat and then her face lights up. “Shut the fuck up.” She’s grinning now, full teeth and delight. “No way. How the hell did you land here, girl?”
“I need the job. Doesn’t get much simpler than that.” She shrugs, all sweet and strong.
That does something to my chest again. Something sharp. Fucking hell.
“She won’t last long,” I say, aiming the words like darts. “I give her five minutes into the shoot. Tops. Hell, I bet after today she takes the first bus out of here, back to wherever the hell she came from.”
Cassidy doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch. Just slowly turns her head toward me with that tight-lipped smile women give before they verbally stab you in the neck.
