Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Damien
“You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Cade.”
He’s been chewing my ear off for the past ten minutes, and I’m about to hang up on him as I turn into the sanctuary’s driveway.
“You assured me you’d dispose of the Meyers’ bodies properly.”
His voice carries an edge, but on the dashboard screen his face remains smooth, his jaw relaxed, expression neutral, and not a muscle out of place.
“I did no such thing.” My voice stays level, but the warning is clear.
“Just because you demanded I do it doesn’t mean I will.
I told you, I’ll dispose of the targets tied to Luna as I see fit.
” I pull into the parking space in front of the sanctuary building, cutting the engine.
“But don’t worry, I won’t leave them on her property anymore.
She asked me not to, and I’ll respect her request.”
Her request. The one that matters.
“You’ve had contact with her?”
“I texted you last night about meeting her today. Do you even read my texts?” The question comes out sharp, but Christ, sometimes dealing with Cade is like managing a paranoid parent.
“I mean, as the wolf.” His jaw ticks, and he exhales. “How and under what circumstances was she able to ask you not to drop dead bodies on her property?”
“That’s none of your business, Cade.”
“Does she know your real identity?”
“Of course not.” I let my eyes sweep across the building in front of me before returning to the dashboard screen to see a calculating look creeping into his expression. “And don’t even fucking think about hacking into my micro-cameras. Now I have to go. I’m here.”
I sit for a moment, observing Luna’s sanctuary from behind the tinted windows, cataloging security vulnerabilities. I’ve already done this a dozen times, but it’s a professional habit when I arrive for consultations.
I exit my Aston Martin Vantage at precisely 11 AM. The suit I chose is tailored to downplay my imposing build. No tie—this is rural Colorado, after all.
Different cologne than I wore last night.
Different posture.
Different hairstyle.
Different man.
I even shaved, erasing the stubble that might remind her of rough lips and a wolf’s mask in the darkness.
Perhaps wearing my wolf mask was a mistake. It’s too close to my real identity, but it’s what puts me into my predator persona. Those unfortunate enough to see the mask up close never leave the encounter alive.
Until Luna.
I need to hide my true identity from her, but she’s a smart woman.
Since I intend to know her body even more intimately than last night, is it possible to keep the truth from her?
I push the thought aside and focus on the situation at hand, installing my security system on her property so I can watch her unencumbered.
The sanctuary is larger than it appears from my usual vantage point in the surrounding forest. I’ve studied the layout from both county records and satellite imagery.
Several outbuildings surround the house and main sanctuary structure, which houses both the offices and medical facilities.
Enclosures of various sizes dot the property, each designed to mimic natural habitats.
Luna built something here that works. A place where damaged animals can finally rest.
I approach the main building. The entrance smells of animals, antiseptic, and bleach, evidence of Luna and her team’s meticulous cleanliness.
I wait for someone to greet me, letting my posture settle into something approachable. In the light of day, I’m Damien Wolfe, billionaire businessman, technology innovator, and respectable citizen.
Her vet tech emerges through a swinging door that leads to the main treatment area, eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat, and I suppress a smile.
“Mr. Wolfe. Welcome to Sage & Summit Wildlife Sanctuary.”
“Ms. Rodriguez, I assume.” I offer my right hand. She hesitates before shaking it.
“Luna’s finishing up with a patient. She’ll be out in a minute.” Maren crosses her arms, sizing me up. “I’m surprised you came yourself. Don’t billionaires usually send minions?”
A smile tugs at my lips. I like her already. “I prefer a hands-on approach for initial consultations. Especially in special circumstances.”
“Special circumstances,” Maren repeats with amusement before her face and voice harden. “You mean the dead bodies?”
Yes. I like this woman a lot.
“I mean Dr. Foster’s safety and her important work here. That includes her team and the animals.”
Something in my voice must reassure her because her posture eases.
The door behind her opens, and Luna appears, pulling off latex gloves.
My heart forgets its rhythm. Seeing her up close, in daylight again, is so different from watching her through windows, cameras, or binoculars from afar.
It’s different from seeing her from behind a mask, inches from her beautiful face.
The overhead lights catch gold threads in her blonde hair, and her hazel eyes are even more striking in the light.
She is so fucking beautiful it hurts.
Her face is free of makeup, but she doesn’t need it.
She’s stunning, dressed in jeans, boots, and a green high-necked sweater that hides the mark I left on her.
Shadows pool under her eyes. The stress of my visits and gifts and how thoroughly I used her last night are all etched in her fatigue.
The impulse to gather her close and smooth away the weariness until she melts hits me unaware.
The want ambushes me, and my chest does this strange thing.
It tightens and squeezes, like a fist closing around my heart.
Not painful, just there when it shouldn’t be.
Out of place. I don’t cradle or soothe, but her obvious exhaustion makes me want to be her refuge instead of her storm. I clear my throat and step forward.
“Dr. Foster. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” My voice is pitched higher than she knows, polished and impersonal, bearing no resemblance to the deep one that owned her in the dark.
Luna wipes her palms on her jeans before accepting my handshake. Her smile is genuine, a slight tinge of pink blooming on her cheeks. “Mr. Wolfe. Thanks for coming on short notice.”
The moment our hands connect, electricity arcs between us. Her eyes go wide, her fingers trembling against mine. I know what she feels. The same current that surges between us with every touch.
I keep my expression neutral even as satisfaction blazes in my chest. Her gaze sweeps across my face, lingering on my eyes, then my mouth, like she’s searching for something familiar. I savor the flash of confusion in her eyes as pink spreads deeper across her skin.
“Please call me Damien.” I release her hand, my fingers trailing away from the warmth of her skin.
“Then call me Luna.” A small line appears between her brows, and I have to resist the urge to smooth it away with my thumb. “I hope you don’t mind touring the property first? I’d like you to understand what we’re protecting before we discuss systems.”
“Of course.”
Maren clears her throat. “I’ll just get back to whatever it is I’ve gotta do.”
Luna tears her eyes away from me to look at her friend, and I miss the weight of her attention the instant it’s gone.
“Thanks, Maren. We’ll be fine.”
Luna leads me outside. I fall into step beside her, careful to maintain a professional distance when the wolf howls at me to crowd closer, breathe in her scent, and touch her.
“Let’s start with the wolf habitat. It’s our largest enclosure and the most frequent target for trespassers.”
“Trespassers were a problem before the recent incidents?”
“Occasionally. People hear we have wolves and want to see them up close.” She shakes her head, frustration clear in her voice. “They don’t understand these aren’t pets. They’re wild. Most have been injured or orphaned. Human interaction is stressful for them.”
“Except with you.”
The comment earns me a sharp look. “I’ve spent years earning their trust. Even then, I respect their boundaries. Unlike most humans.”
We reach the wolf enclosure, where three wolves pace near the opposite fence, but my attention fixes on the fourth, lying on a patch of grass, relaxed.
“That’s Shadow.” Luna’s voice goes soft and warm. “He’s the exception. I raised him from a pup, and he’s imprinted on me.”
At the sound of her voice, my new beta wolf approaches, ignoring me as he presses against the fence beside Luna. She crouches, murmuring endearments as she slips her fingers through the slats to touch him. He nuzzles her hand, then goes rigid, his nostrils flaring.
I tense. The wolf stares at me, a low growl vibrating in his throat as Luna tries to shush him.
“It’s okay, baby. He’s a good one. He’s here to help us.” She looks up at me. “He’s leery of most men. Poachers killed his mother in front of him.”
Her reassurance amuses me. If she only knew the real reason for his reaction.
The growling fades away as he stares at me, then he does something unexpected. He tips his head, almost in a gesture of acknowledgment, before returning his attention to Luna.
Most people don’t understand how intelligent wolves are.
Studies have shown they possess superior cognitive abilities, connecting cause to effect in ways that shame their domestic cousins.
They’re also known for their strong familial bonds, and Shadow has bonded with Luna, adopting her into his pack of one.
She belongs to him now with the totality that wolves reserve for family.
Protective, possessive, willing to die defending what’s his. I can hardly blame him.
But wolves aren’t just killers—they’re smart killers. He knows the difference between enemies and complications.
I’m the latter.
Luna rises, confusion on her face. “His reaction to you is unusual. He must recognize your scent from the post office last week.”
I shrug, feigning ignorance. “Animals often sense intent. Perhaps he recognizes I’m here to help.”