Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Luna
Isettle on the porch steps of the main sanctuary building, Ghost’s medical charts spread across my lap. Ricky perches beside me on the wooden step, his masked face tilted up as I reach into the bowl of apple slices.
“Here you go, Rick.” I hold out a slice. He chitters like he’s trying to tell me something important, though his dark eyes keep drifting to my chest with unmistakable intent.
I flip open the folder, squinting at the white blood cell count. The numbers blur as my thoughts drift back to last night. My body still hums, my clit still pulses, and the bite on my inner thigh still throbs with the memory.
He came again. My dark watcher. My masked… what? Stalker? Hunter? Wolf?
The words jumble in my head, none of them quite fitting the man who watches me and, now, comes into my room in the dead of night, his face concealed behind that beautiful, disturbing mask.
God, that mask.
It haunts my thoughts—cold metal against heated flesh, the contrast of sensations as intoxicating as the man himself. Long after he left, I traced my fingers over my thighs where the edge of his mask left faint impressions, physical proof that he'd been real, that he'd claimed me, that I'd let him.
It was the most mind-blowing and terrifying experience I’ve ever had.
When I woke and realized he was there, terror flooded my system.
When he pulled out his knife, I expected him to cut, rape and then kill me.
I didn’t expect him to bring me to orgasm five times and then just walk away without getting off himself.
What kind of man does that?
Fear and panic held me captive for most of the encounter, but desire and arousal bled into and then overrode them.
What kind of woman does that make me? The kind who spreads her legs for a masked serial killer?
“Ricky, no!”
I jerk sideways as his paws dart out quick as lightning, aiming straight for his target. The charts scatter across the porch.
He chitters in what sounds like protest, then sidles closer and nuzzles against my arm. The sweet gesture almost makes me forgive him until those sneaky paws creep toward my breasts again.
“I said, no!” I scramble to gather the scattered papers while holding up another apple slice as a distraction. “Food first, boob-grabbing never.”
He accepts the bribe, settling back on his haunches to eat, but those dark eyes never leave their prize.
Part of me is horrified by what happened last night. All of me should be horrified. A killer touched me, made me come apart beneath his mouth and hands, and I let him. More than let him. I begged for it by the end.
But there’s another part of me, a dark place I don’t like to recognize or admit exists, that whispers he’s doing what the law won’t. What I can’t. Those monsters got what they deserved, and if my masked watcher is the one to deliver that justice…
The thoughts I sometimes have would horrify my parents and grandfather if they were still alive, but I can’t help it.
It contradicts everything I stand for. I save lives.
I don’t celebrate death. But when I think about Ghost’s broken body, about every broken animal that comes through these doors because of human cruelty, that dark part of me grows a little stronger, a little more satisfied that their abusers are gone.
And the man who kills them is the one I let touch me.
I fought and begged him to stop. Until I didn’t. Until I arched into him, pressing against his face, pleading for his touch.
No one has ever made me come like that from oral sex, so hard and fast the first time that I swear I nearly blacked out. Then, building me back up for a second before wrenching three more orgasms from me, leaving me wrecked, wishing I knew his name so I could have screamed it.
The irony isn’t lost on me—a wolf mask, when today I’m meeting Damien Wolfe about a security system. I can’t help but wonder if there’s some cosmic joke at play. Still, the coincidence is peculiar.
Ricky finishes his apple slice and eyes the bowl. I hand him another piece, watching him settle into a more relaxed position. For a moment, I think he might behave. Then he abandons the fruit and scrambles into my lap, his warm body curling against me.
“That’s better.” I stroke his fur. “See? You can be sweet when you want to—” Those determined paws make another grab. “Seriously?” I catch his hands, redirecting them to the apple slice. “You’re worse than a horny teenager.”
He chitters indignantly but accepts defeat. For now.
“You look like you’re about to spontaneously combust out here.”
I jump, nearly sending Ricky tumbling off my lap as Maren emerges from the front door, carrying two cups of coffee, navigating around the scattered charts as she approaches.
She glances at Ricky, then hands me a cup before settling in the rocking chair at the far end of the porch, well out of his reach.
“Thanks. Why are you sitting over there?”
As if on cue, Ricky makes another grab, but I catch his paws just in time. “Jesus, Ricky, you’re relentless today.”
“And that’s why I’m sitting way over here.” Maren smirks. “I had my fill of raccoon molestation yesterday.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “So Ghost’s bandages are all changed, and get this… Titus ate his breakfast.”
My heart leaps. “All of it?”
“Every last bite. I gave him seconds.”
Relief floods through me. “Thank God. If he keeps this up for another couple days, we can remove his feeding tube. He’s going to be fine, but we need to find a permanent place for him here. He’s too skittish to go back into the wild.”
Ricky, bored with having all his advances redirected, climbs out of my lap and scampers across the porch. He pauses at the railing, testing its height before hauling himself up to balance on the narrow wooden beam.
“Careful, Rick,” I warn, but he ignores me, walking the railing like a tightrope performer.
Maren’s expression turns serious. “Yeah, about that. Have you figured out how we’re going to afford to build another permanent enclosure?”
“Now that my mortgage is paid off, maybe I can take out another one.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Maren points a finger at me. “Let’s do a fundraiser or something. I’ll start calling around to old donors and try to hit them up. We’ll figure it out, but no more mortgages.”
“Yes, Mom.” Her reprimand makes me smile. She’s so bossy sometimes. “Speaking of figuring things out. I called Damien Wolfe last night. He’s coming today at eleven to consult on a security system.”
Maren’s eyebrows shoot up. “Halle-fucking-lujah. Three dead bodies showing up is more than enough as far as I’m concerned. I was starting to think you enjoyed having psycho killers wandering around.”
If only she knew.
I can’t tell her what happened, as much as I want to. And I can’t call Karen. I should have the second he left, but how can I report what he did to me without confessing that I gave in? Not because he forced me, but because I wanted it.
Ricky loses his balance for a moment, windmilling his arms before catching himself. He chitters, as if he meant to do that.
“Yeah, well, better late than never. I’m just glad he agreed to come out.”
I need to keep my watcher from coming into my home. I just hope Damien’s system is able to do it.
“Mmhmm.” Maren’s grin turns wicked. “It doesn’t hurt that he’s your hottie, billionaire neighbor, does it? Hey, maybe he can help fund that enclosure for Titus while he’s at it.”
“I don’t know how we’re even going to be able to afford this system, so let’s start with that before you try to hit him up for something else.”
“He has more money than God. He should share it.”
I believe in asking for help. The animals depend on it. But I’d invite him to see what we do first, let him fall in love with the cause. Maren’s already mentally spending his fortune. I can see it in her eyes. She’d ask the Pope for donations at his own funeral.
Ricky completes his circuit of the railing and scrambles back down, deciding the floor offers better opportunities for mischief. He scurries over to investigate Maren’s chair, but she’s ready for him.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says, pulling her legs up. “Back away.” Ricky gazes up at her with his sweet masked face, but she holds firm. “That look won’t work on me, mister. Oh, by the way, have you seen my keys?”
I chuckle at her abrupt topic change. “No. Why?”
“I can’t find them. They disappeared yesterday.”
“How’d you get home last night?”
“I keep a spare set in my desk now, after the time I accidentally locked them in my car. Just in case. But my main set is missing. I don’t know what I did with it.”
Ricky climbs back into my lap, this time with what I swear is a strategic gleam in his eyes.
He settles against me, purring, lulling me into a false sense of security.
I enjoy the brief moment of peace. Then he makes his most ambitious grab yet.
I catch his hands. “That’s it. It’s time for you to go back into your cage. ”
“Maybe he’s picking up on all the sexual tension you’re putting into the universe, waiting for Damien Wolfe to arrive.” Maren lowers her feet to the floor now that it’s safe. “Animals are sensitive to that shit.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it, though?”
Maybe she’s right, especially considering what happened last night. I woke up still swollen and tender this morning, but I swear to God, also still aroused.
I should have fought harder. I can’t believe I didn’t. My passivity haunts me more than his touch. By all rights, I should be dead for that weakness, but my gut tells me I don’t need to fear him. Not that way. My instincts are usually right, and Shadow agrees.
His reaction baffles me the most. He’s always so protective of me. And though he growled before my watcher revealed himself and stood between us on the porch, Shadow seems to have just accepted him now. Every cell in my body wants to trust my wolf’s instincts, but this whole situation is insane.
“Can we not discuss my sex life, or lack thereof, in front of the animals?” I gesture to Ricky, who’s now grooming his belly.
“Right, because Ricky here is so innocent,” Maren snorts. “Oh, by the way, Ethan treated that peregrine falcon that came in early this morning. Wing fracture, but it should heal clean. You might want to check on him, though. He’s been pretty agitated.”
I glance at my watch, dislodging Ricky’s questing paws again. “Let me do that before Damien gets here.” I stand, scooping Ricky up, and he curls against me. “Here.” I deposit him in Maren’s lap. “Your turn.”
“What? No! Luna, don’t you dare—”
But it’s too late. Ricky wastes no time, reaching for Maren’s boobs with impressive speed and determination.
“Son of a bitch!” Maren catches his paws while trying not to spill her coffee. “This is exactly why I was sitting way over here! You’re evil, you know that?”
“Payback for the sex comment.” I gather up Ghost’s charts and head for the door.
“Don’t forget to freshen up before your billionaire boyfriend arrives!” Maren laughs as Ricky makes another strategic strike. “And maybe change into something that shows a little cleavage. Give the man something to work with!”
My body still hums with the memory of last night, and the thought of meeting Damien Wolfe while my skin still carries the phantom touch of my masked watcher makes my pulse flutter.
As the door closes behind me, Maren’s creative cursing fades away, and I can’t shake the feeling that today is going to bring more complications than just a horny raccoon and a security consultation.