Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,38

right…I can feel myself changing. I don’t want to become a monster.”

“Just because you shift into a werewolf doesn’t mean you’ll start terrorizing small villages like in movies.” He spoke tenderly, his voice warm with remorse. “We’re more civilized that you’d believe.”

“I don’t know what to think.” Cold from the inside out, Emelia shook her head. “Who the hell am I now?”

Drake cupped her chin in his massive hands. “You’re Emelia Hudson, but your friends call you Emie. You love Château Lafite and hate costume parties. You curse like a sailor, have an unrivaled sense of pride when it comes to your bar, and are as stubborn as a mule. You’re also the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in all my years on this earth. You’re kindhearted and humble, showing compassion to every person who comes into contact with you. Beneath all that, you now have the molecular structure of a werewolf and will shift into one at every full moon. You’re going to be fine and I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

Something in Emelia’s chest fluttered, then caught. No matter what happened two nights ago, or two nights from now, Emelia knew she would be all right. An unnatural sense of calm inked through her, blanketing her frayed nerves. “How can this be real? Werewolves? Next you’re going to tell me vampires are real, too.”

“At least your sarcasm hasn’t gone anywhere,” he laughed, dropping his hands back to his sides. She wished his hands would return and stroke over the goose-bumpy skin beneath her shirt. “Vampires aren’t real, at least not that I know of, though I suppose they could be in hiding like we are.”

As the air charged with something electric, Emelia stepped back, then blew out a deep breath. It was the oddest thing…she could almost taste the energy sparking from Drake’s body. It tasted exactly how he smelled—dark, spicy, and deliciously male.

Drake’s dark eyes widened in hunger as if he understood what she sensed. “Your system will be on overload for the next few days. Senses and emotions will be heightened to extremes and fluctuate on whims. Impulses will be nearly impossible to control. Your inner thermostat will run freezing cold, then blistering hot.”

“Basically, you’re saying I’m like a computer that’s about to crash: unreadable, unmanageable, freezing, then burning up.”

The hard line of his lips quirked. “If you say so.”

“Not that I’d know from working with Wilder Financial’s computers or anything.”

“Um-hmm.”

Smelling the aroma of roasted garlic, succulent tomatoes, and buttery crust, Emelia’s mouth watered and her gaze homed in on the bedroom door. Two short knocks pounded from the other side.

“Thank you, Raul,” Drake said, striding to the door.

Taking care of business in his usual dominant manner, Drake rolled in a heaping cart of food, and stopped it near the table in the corner. Emelia hadn’t noticed, but the bedroom wasn’t really a bedroom at all. It was more like an elegant studio apartment with rich cherrywood furnishings, a partial kitchen—fully stocked, no doubt—and an open door that led to a gigantic bathroom.

“How many werewolves are out there?” Emelia asked, staring at the steaming pizza, her insides curling into one giant knot. She couldn’t bear the thought of eating, though that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? She was hungry, she had to be. She hadn’t eaten in two days. Twenty minutes ago she’d wanted pizza, now…she couldn’t pinpoint what she wanted.

Drake poured a glass of scotch from a bottle on the bottom rack and drank. “In the United States there are four hundred, and over a third of those belong to my pack.”

“Your pack?” Her gaze shot from the stuffed crust to Drake.

“My father was an Alpha, and the ruling of the pack continues down generational lines.”

Did he dominate everything in his life? “And your twin? Is he an Alpha, too?”

“Since we’re twins, we’re both technically Alphas by birthright. Catch the rub?” Drake sat on the leather sofa in front of the curtain-covered windows and leaned forward, stroking his thumb across the lip of the glass. “Our father was determined not to have his empire weakened by being split in half, so he decreed that the first son to find his Luminary would become Alpha and gain control over the pack, and the other son would take over the investments.”

“What’s a Luminary?” Emelia asked, taking the seat next to Drake. His natural scent seemed to soothe the ache hollowing her middle. She couldn’t be close enough.

“I think it might be best not

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