A Lady’s Guide to Werewolves (A Society of Witches #2)

Prologue

The moon was trying to kill him.

As was Lady Sorcha Beauregard.

The moon had been trying to kill him for some time now, but Sorcha was more likely to succeed.

And she was not even trying.

Lady Sorcha was as unpredictable as a summer storm—both bright sunshine and violent clouds. She was a walking contradiction: soft voice and strong legs, freckles on her nose. Hair like fire. Keen and clever and impatient. Elegant but never without mud on her boots.

Beautiful, the way storms were.

Not to mention unseemly.

Dangerous.

Impossible to ignore even at the best of times.

And this was not the best of times.

None of which mattered when Aidan Carnahan, the Earl of Coventry and curator for the London Museum of Magic, was currently crouched with her scent in her nostrils—raspberries and fire—and…was that blood in his mouth?

Damn the moon.

But most of all, damn himself.