Beast of Shadows - Krista Street Page 0,46

he wants to maim, kill, and devour innocent humans.

But…

He also wants Brianna.

It’s the only thing he and I have in common, which means that I now have to convince him that the only way she’ll want us back is if he stops being a psycho.

If only there was a rogue werewolf rehabilitation program. I laugh humorlessly at my thoughts as I turn the bathroom light off and open the door. Of course, there’s no such program, because no rogue has ever returned from the land of insanity.

That dejected realization has my shoulders slumping as I walk toward the kitchen. I have no idea if the beast will ever lose the impulse to murder people, but if I give up that hope then my life will be entirely meaningless.

At least he hasn’t tested my control again, not since we found that asshole attacking Brianna in the desert, but I don’t know if my control will last. I can only hope that I’ll find some way to make him see reason, because if I don’t, Brianna will be lost to both of us.

Shrugging those depressing thoughts aside, I pad to the small closet near her kitchen that holds her washer and dryer. I pull out a pair of freshly washed and dried shorts. The rest of my clothes are clean now, too, so I repack them in the backpack.

I’d thrown everything I’d owned into the wash before making Brianna dinner. I hadn’t asked her if she minded, but I didn’t think she would since clean clothes mean I won’t smell like a pig.

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I need to win her over. Because I know it’s going to take me pulling out all of the stops to get Brianna to see me as a normal human, and what better way to start that than to act like one? Which means I need to shower regularly like most humans and wear clean clothes.

It’s near midnight before I finally contemplate going to sleep. I’ve already checked all of the locks and windows and have peeked through the living room blinds every few minutes to scan the street below. I’m not used to staying in a city dwelling like this, and I don’t like it. I feel exposed, as though the Supernatural Forces can see me right now even though all of the shades are drawn.

I part the blinds again to make sure nothing’s changed because even though Brianna lives two stories up, that wouldn’t stop a supernatural from entering her apartment, and it sure as hell won’t stop an SF member.

But I don’t see anything suspicious. The only people wandering the streets at this hour are drunk college kids and the occasional homeless person.

Satisfied, I drop the blind, then tip-toe toward her bedroom one last time to check on her.

I’m more than aware that watching her sleep borders on creepy, but I can’t help myself. I want to look at her.

That and I need to make sure she’s still safe. Exactly. It’s all about her safety. I should check her windows one last time.

I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m entering her room again, even though I know it’s not.

Silently, I push the door open. The beast stirs in appreciation when Brianna’s sunshine-and-caramel scent reaches us.

Our mate is lying on her back, tangled in her sheets. One leg is out, revealing a perfectly defined calf and toned thigh while an arm is bent beside her with one finger brushing her temple. The sheet is riding up, but it still covers the mound between her thighs but barely.

I let the beast out more so my eyesight sharpens. His glow allows me to see every detail of her. Her long dark hair splays over her pillow, and her full lips part as quiet puffs emit from her. She’s a silent sleeper. She doesn’t snore, and if it weren’t for my enhanced senses, I would barely detect her breathing.

My dick twitches again. I can’t help it. Her breasts push against her T-shirt, and her dark areolas are visible underneath the thin material.

Fuck me. My mate is beautiful.

She stirs, a slight noise coming from her. “Collin,” she whispers.

I go completely still. Dammit. I’ve woken her despite being absolutely silent, but then she murmurs quietly again.

“Collin. Yes.” Her eyes are still closed, and she moans quietly.

Holy hell. She’s dreaming and talking in her sleep.

My heart rate increases when she arches slightly, another moan parting her lips. My nostrils flare. Fucking hell, my mate is

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