Running from the Wolves (Wolfsbane #1)

by Lola Glass

“Henley Clark.” His voice was a low, sexy growl. He was young, probably only twenty-three or twenty-four. Being twenty-one myself, that was the perfect age for what had to be the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

“You can trust me, Henley.” I snorted. “I haven’t trusted anyone since I was eight. Not about to start now.” “I’ll convince you.”

“You’re heavier than you look.” He grunted.

ouch?

“If this is what losing to you feels like, next time I’ll surrender.” His low growl practically caught me on fire.

this got heated fast

Instead of answering, Roman caught a strand of my hair and lifted it to his nose, maintaining eye contact as he inhaled deeply. His eyes shifted, fangs elongating as he took in the scent of me. “Mine.” The low growl gave me goosebumps all over, but the possessiveness was a red flag I sure as hell wasn’t ready to deal with.

“If it were your business, you’d already know.”

He grabbed my wrist as I went to leave again. The gesture could’ve been threatening, but his fingers were gentle on my skin. Turning me around, he lifted my hand between us and gestured to my ugly knuckles. “Is he the one you punched?” I pulled myself from his grip and stepped back, away from the Alpha and his barrage of questions I wasn’t ready or willing to answer. “Why does he think you’re his?” Roman prodded. I wanted to punch him in the face at that point.

I caught a scent that I determined was irresistible and barreled toward it. Moss? Trees? Rain?

oh great. it’s gonna be the guy

“And don’t call me ‘Hen’. I’m a wolf, I eat chicken.” Roman scrubbed his hand over his face. “Alright. I can be patient.” I waited for the ‘but’. “You’re expecting me to say something that pisses you off so you can yell at me again.”

“What are you wearing?” Roman tensed like he had in his office before he stormed off and left me napping on his couch. I glanced down at my favorite strappy black sports bra and my floral-print lounge shorts. “Bra,” I pointed to my chest, “shorts.” My finger dropped down to the waistband. He growled at me. Why we were growling was beyond me, but I growled back.

“You smell like the home I’ve spent my entire life looking for. That’s why my scent changed when I caught yours. Seeing you and being with you only cemented that you’re it for me.”

I gave in to my instincts and peed on a tree,

WHHHHAAAAAAATTT

“Hurt people hurt people.” It was a line my mom used to explain to her eight-year-old why her father wasn’t around. One I’d learned was a fact when I watched the life drain from my mother’s eyes at the hands of Alpha who’d lost his mind when he lost his mate.

As if I could ever mate with someone who thought the pack was more important than me.

don’t like that