Page 5 of Kept
Then—again. Slow, measured.
Footsteps.
Eli nearly bit through his tongue, heart scrambling. He hadn’t heard the front door, not even a jingle of keys. How had he missed that?
Or had someone already been inside when he came creeping through the window?
The thought made his skin crawl.
He darted silently across the room to the window, jaw clenched, hands trembling. Outside, the ground seemed impossibly far away. He was on the second floor. The porch roof sloped beneath, slick with dew and moonlight, but the distance to the yard was still a broken ankle waiting to happen.
Leaving him back outside, with no way to run.
No way down—not without a monumental risk.
He risked a frantic glance over his shoulder, listening to the slow, methodical steps below. Maybe the person would head to another part of the house, give him time to creep downstairs out of sight and run...
The footsteps stilled. Silence filled the house. Eli strained to hear anything—his own shallow breaths felt much too loud.
Then the footsteps started again, this time with purpose.
Headed to the stairs.
Eli’s stomach dropped, a cold sweat breaking out along his spine.
He thought back to every half-whispered rumor in school, every warning from bored librarians and anxious parents. Werewolves could track you by scent. If they had you in their sights, there was no way to hide.
The stairs began to groan. No way to slip by. No way to fool them, not now.
Eli stared around the room, frantic. The closet was overflowing, useless for hiding. The space under the bed felt absurdly exposed.
Nowhere to hide. Time to face the music.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to steady his breaths, muscles cramping tight.
The floorboards outside the bedroom creaked and then went silent. Eli stared at the door as the knob turned with unbearable slowness.
The door began to swing open, a shaft of moonlight creeping across the floor toward him.
3
Kade’s fistsslammed into the punching bag, each impact jarring up his arms, the vibrations rattling his bones. Sweat dripped down his bare chest, streaking across inked skin, muscles burning with the effort.
But the pain, the exhaustion—it was a welcome distraction. It kept the beast inside him at bay.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The steady rhythm filled the basement gym, drowning out the sounds of anything outside. Through the small window near the ceiling, the night breeze drifted in—thick with fear, desire, anticipation. The pack was out there, caught in the fever of the mating run, their howls carving through the dark.
Kade exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders.Not this time.
A breeze drifted through the basement window, carrying the scent of the hunt—thick with fear, need, the raw desperation of unclaimed mates. It hit Kade like a drug, sharp and intoxicating. His nostrils flared, breath shuddering as the scent of potential mates coiled around him, curling in his lungs like smoke.
His cock hardened instantly, straining against his shorts. Fuck.
He pressed his forehead against the cold concrete wall, letting the chill bite into his overheated skin. The wolf inside him clawed harder, demanding release.Join the hunt. Take what’s yours. Mark. Claim. Breed.
The temptation burned through him, thick and undeniable.
