Page 12 of Claimed By Werewolf
For the first time, his mask cracked.His jaw clenched, his eyes burned, and I knew he was fighting himself.Fighting me.
But I also knew this was it.The moment.
I’d forced my way into his world, and now he had to decide if he was going to throw me out or let me stay.
And as his gaze lingered on mine, I realized something terrifying.
Part of me didn’t care which he chose.
Because either way, I wasn’t walking away.
Chapter Seven
Werewolf
She had guts, I’d give her that.
Most people didn’t step foot in the garage without permission, let alone march across the lot with her chin up and fire in her eyes like she owned the damn place.
And nobody,nobody, shoved papers in my face and demanded answers.
But Demi Cross wasn’t most people.
She was a problem wrapped in stubbornness and grief.And as I stared down at the crumpled phone records in her hand, I knew she’d just crossed a line I couldn’t ignore.
“Then help me.”
Those three words hit harder than any bullet ever had.
For a second, I just stared at her, my jaw tight, and fought the urge to slam her against the wall again and shake sense into her.She didn’t get it; this wasn’t a game, it wasn’t a puzzle she could solve if she just pushed hard enough.
This was blood and bullets and loyalty.This was a world that would chew her up and spit her out.
And she was asking me to walk her right into the middle of it.
Around us, the garage had gone quiet.A couple of brothers lingered near the back, pretending to work but watching with sharp eyes.They knew better than to step in, but their presence was a reminder I didn’t need.Prez had already told me to handle her.If anyone suspected I was doing more than entertaining her questions, it’d be my ass on the line.
I snatched the papers from her hands and scanned them fast.Burners.Records that matched up with names I recognized but couldn’t admit out loud.My gut twisted.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Where’d you get this?”I asked again, softer this time but still sharp enough to cut.
Her chin lifted.“Does it matter?”
“It matters if someone’s feeding you this shit to bait you into getting killed.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line.“I found it myself.”
I believed her, which was worse because it meant she was digging deeper than I thought possible.
I crumpled the papers in my fist and fought the urge to throw them back in her face.Instead, I leaned down until my nose was a breath from hers.
“You have no idea what you’re asking me to do,” I said, voice low.“If the club even suspects you handed me this, you won’t live to see tomorrow.”
“Then keep it quiet,” she shot back.
Her eyes burned into mine, fierce and unrelenting.For the first time, I felt something crack inside me.Not weakness.Not fear.Something worse.
