Hunter of the Wolf
by L. Shannon
Although hardly the best suited for the job, Molach is sent home to protect the clan from a deranged werewolf hunter who is stalking his family. What the light-hearted romeo finds is Dorina, a beautiful, angry, young woman bent on revenge for the murder of her family. If he can convince her that he is not evil incarnate and has never hurt an innocent, then maybe, just maybe, he can talk her into dinner and a movie? But how will she react when he asks her to be the mother of his puppies?
Excerpt:
Screams woke Molach from a pleasant dream involving a pair of twins that both looked like his captor. He sprang up partway from the bed before identifying Dorina’s scream and that she was unhurt. He fell back into the bed before remembering he was supposed to be tied. With his luck, she would shit a brick if she turned and saw him loose and probably shoot him, before he could explain. A pillow shifted under him as he twisting to reach the rope.
Crash! He landed hard on the floor. He was so screwed now and not by the dream twins. Peering over the edge of the bed, he looked for the psycho. The room was empty. Light glowed from beneath the bathroom door. What luck!
Now that he had plenty of time and no buckshot in his rump, he fixed the bed and retied the ropes, once again uncomfortably tied with his hands over his head and legs bound together.
But then, being tied didn’t bother him. In fact it had been part of that lovely dream. Hmmm... twins. But then one Dorina was probably plenty.
The bathroom door opened and Dorina stood for a moment, silhouetted in the light. The sight of her slight body, wrapped only in a thin t-shirt, had him hard in an instant. She switched the light off and he groaned from the loss. He expected her to say something rude and tell him to be quiet, but she did neither.
She sniffed quietly as if with a cold. She had no cold. "Hey, you all right?" He asked still expecting a put down or some hard comeback.
Nothing. She walked over to her bed and sat against the headboard, drawing her legs up to her chin. Another sniff. She looked vulnerable. And was she crying?
It took all his will power to not shake loose the ropes and go to her. His body ached with the need to hold her tight in his arms and comfort her.
Hard and angry Dorina, he found sexy. Soft and tender was... heartbreaking. Not his Rina, she didn’t cry. She shot things. Usually some part of him.
What could he do? How could he give her back her shell, her shield?
"Hey lady. I need to take a whiz. Will you let me up?"
"No. Now be quiet." She answered in a hoarse voice that told him that she not only was crying, but and been sobbing hard behind that bathroom door.
"I really got a go."
"Fine, go." This came a little firmer. Good, he was making her angry.
"What? Here?"
"Wherever."
"Hey, I’m housetrained. I don’t mess my bed."
"Fine." She picked up her shoulder holster and pulled the gun. As she slipped on the holster it tightened the t-shirt across her chest. If she shot him now, he would die smiling, staring at that beautiful view.
She leaned over him to reach the ropes tying his hands, her breath blowing cooly across his cheek. The gun barrel pushed tightly against his side. Using only one hand to untie the ropes made it take quite a while. The torture had Molach panting. Her soft vanilla scent filled him. Her fingers kept brushing his, sending tingles up his arms and straight to his groin. Her small breasts pushed lightly against his chest.
Damn, she was going to kill him. What was taking her so long to get those ropes undone.
"There." She stepped back out of reach.
"Thanks." He sat up slowly rubbing his wrists. Any excuse to keep from reaching for her. She stood only a few steps away, thinking she was safe from him. If she only knew. He untied the ropes on his legs.
"Move slowly."
"Yeah, I know. Or you’ll shoot me." He stood and stretched his arms over his head. His naked chest tightening. Her eyes rounded. Maybe she had forgotten what he had to offer?
Click. She flicked the safety off the pistol? Had it been on earlier? Or was she cocking the pistol to shoot him? So maybe she was totally not interested in what he had to offer. He walked, slowly, to the bathroom.
When he would have closed the door, she kicked it back open.
"Leave it open."
"Into that, are we?"
The gun dropped slightly below his belt, aimed at what he felt were his best assets. She raised one brow and the look spoke volumes about his lack of humor and where he could file all future comments.
"Okay, then. The door stays open." He moved to the toilet which was thankfully to the side, somewhat out of sight. He figured she’d shoot him for sure if she saw how aroused he was.
When finished, he saw that she had gone back to her bed and now sat there staring at the gun in her hands. Though, she didn’t seem aware of it, a tear fell from her thick lashes to her cheek. The sight of that tear made him want to rip someone apart. Not his Rina. She should never cry.
He so wanted to go to her, to wipe that tear away, to kiss or lick it away. But he stood still. She would not accept his comfort. What would she accept?
"All done. Shall I get the ropes again?"
She turned the gun over in her hands, studying it like some foreign object.
He walked to his bed and picked up the ropes and turned back to her. "Hey, Lady, tie me up would ya, so I can get some sleep? Either that, or join me and we’ll not bother with sleeping."
She lifted the gun, aimed and fired. The soft whoosh followed the thud as the bullet tore through the floor between his feet.
He froze. Good thing he had just gone or he might have wet himself in surprise. The silencer was a new addition. Great, now she could shoot him and not draw attention. What a woman! He raised his hands slightly and waited to see what she would do next.
