Chapter 2
Chapter two
Damien
Ilean back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the bank of monitors mounted on the wall of my Denver office. I haven’t been here for weeks, but I needed to handle a few things that couldn’t be done remotely, so I flew down before dawn.
The central screen shows Luna’s kitchen, where she and Maren sit at the table, still flushed from their morning hike.
Steam rises from their coffee cups as they dig into a frittata and toast. I’d watched Luna shower after their return, water cascading over her perfect body, and then move through her kitchen with that grace that never fails to captivate me.
If she knew about the cameras in her bathroom, she’d castrate me.
I’d installed them with her security system months ago.
I wanted access to her everywhere, including her private spaces.
I felt no remorse at the time. Still don’t, if I’m honest. But now that my obsession has grown into love, there’s a twinge of guilt for invading her privacy.
She’s aware her wolf hacks into the sanctuary’s cameras and scolds him for being a creep, but she doesn’t know the number of cameras and that they’re inside her bedroom and bathroom.
She also doesn’t know I’m her wolf. The masked stalker and serial killer who comes to her in the darkness. The man who ties her up, chokes her, and fucks her until she’s sobbing and coming on my cock so many times, she nearly passes out.
I’ve taken steps to hide my identity. The silver wolf mask covers most of my face except my mouth, hiding the silver threading through my hair at the temples, which I’ve heard Luna tell Maren she loves.
I use a different soap. No aftershave. And I go to extreme lengths to disguise my voice.
What started out as a way to anonymously take her, claim her, and make her mine has now spiraled into a duplicitous double life that I’m losing control of.
The struggle to keep my identities separate is reaching a breaking point. The lines are blurred, and I won’t be able to keep them separate much longer. Not if I want more with Luna than just what we have in the dark. Heat, passion, and a connection that defies logic.
When it began, she didn’t know Damien Wolfe, so it was easier for the mask to conceal my identity. Now that we’re spending more time together in daylight, she’s noticing the cracks in my carefully crafted facade.
Once she discovers my deception—that her dark, masked, serial killer lover is also her billionaire neighbor who donated a quarter of a million dollar security system to her wildlife sanctuary and paid off both her mortgage and student loans—the betrayal might just be too much.
Who the fuck am I kidding?
I’ll lose her. And that can’t happen. Living without Luna Foster—her light, her goodness, her warmth—isn’t an option.
“We need to figure out an outdoor space for Titus.”
The sound of Luna’s beautiful voice through the speakers draws me out of my thoughts.
“He’s come a long way, but he’s getting depressed being kept inside.”
“He didn’t hiss at me when I touched him yesterday.” Maren takes a bite of her toast. “I was starting to think you were the only one he’d ever let touch him.”
“He still hisses at me most of the time, too.”
Luna leans back in her chair and sweeps a damp strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear.
My hand twitches. I want to reach through the screen, wind those strands around my fingers, and feel the silk of them again.
Heat crawls up my neck and settles in my chest, then drops lower.
My pulse kicks up, drumming in my throat, my wrists, everywhere.
“But then you do whatever Luna voodoo you do on animals, and he rolls over and lets you rub his belly.”
Luna laughs, and the sound wraps around me.
When we’re tangled together in the dark, she gives me other sounds.
Broken moans and desperate gasps that drive me to the edge of my sanity.
Those sounds burn through me, set my blood on fire, but this laugh—this laugh—I want to chase, capture, and coax it from her lips again and again.
“I’ve been pricing out materials for an enclosure. Something separate from the wolf area and far enough from the barn that the horses won’t spook. And away from Gertie’s outdoor pen.”
“Because that goat’s already got enough attitude without a bobcat making her paranoid.” Maren takes a bite of her eggs. “How much are we talking?”
“More than I have.” Luna sighs, defeat written into the sag of her shoulders. “I still think I should talk to the bank about another mortgage.”
“No, Lu, don’t get yourself into that again.” The words come out sharp and protective. “Are there any more grants we can apply for? I’ll fill out the paperwork.”
“I don’t think we can get more from the state, but we can try for a few more federal grants. They’re not for wildlife, but considering we have a handful of domestic animals, we might be able to sneak in under their guidelines.”
“What about a fundraiser?”
“Maybe. But we need to get it built before the heavy snow starts. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until spring.
I can’t bear the thought of him going through the entire winter in that indoor cage.
” Luna’s chin lifts, determination hardening her features.
“Maybe I can get a small mortgage so we can get it built, and then we can have a fundraiser in the spring so I can pay it off.”
Maren lifts her coffee cup, and she takes a long sip, watching Luna over the rim. “I said this a while back, but why don’t you hit Damien up? Go to his foundation?”
“No.” Luna shakes her head, defiance flickering in her eyes. “He’s already donated the security system. I’m not going to take advantage of his generosity like that.”
“Then take advantage of your relationship with him. The man is a billionaire, and he kissed you last night.”
“No, Maren. One kiss doesn’t make a relationship. I don’t know if it even meant anything. And he’s done enough. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
“Well, let me know what you need me to do.” Maren sighs, then her lips curve into a smirk. “If I’ve gotta blow someone, I will.”
Luna snorts as she takes another bite of her frittata.
“Does JT know you make those kinds of offers?”
“He knows I’ll do anything for you and these animals.”
“Well, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but I appreciate the offer.”
“I’ll do it. Just not Damien. I’ll leave that to you.” Maren’s teasing grin turns serious. “Speaking of figuring things out, we never finished talking about Caleb showing up last night. That asshole has some balls violating the restraining order. I would’ve killed to see Damien throw him out.”
The veins in my temple throb, sending sharp pulses through my skull as Hunter’s name leaves Maren’s lips.
Luna frowns. “I don’t want to think about him right now.”
“You should call Karen so it’s on record in case anything…” Maren trails off, and my hands clench into fists.
Cade strides into my office without knocking, interrupting the overlapping fantasies of Caleb’s pain as his warm blood coats my hands.
My COO’s short salt and pepper hair is perfectly styled, his charcoal suit immaculate despite the early hour. He moves like a man twenty years younger than fifty-five, thanks to decades of discipline that started in the Rangers.
“We need to discuss tonight’s target.” He settles into the chair across from my desk as I lower the camera’s volume. “Julian Pembroke. You sure you want to grab him from the parking garage?”
Dragging my attention from Luna’s image on the screen requires conscious effort. My eyes want to drift back.
“There’s minimal foot traffic after 8 PM. Just put the cameras on a loop, and it’ll be a clean entry and exit. Why are you even asking me about this? You don’t usually worry about how I grab them?”
“You’ve been a little distracted.”
“I’ve stopped leaving corpses to be found. I’m following disposal protocols again. Everything’s contained.” My impression of his pissed-off voice is so off the mark, it fails to elicit even a subtle change in his expression.
“Thank fuck. I’m glad you decided I was right. What changed your mind?”
“Not you.”
“Dr. Foster tired of the sheriff’s visits?”
Fucker!
Luna asked me to stop leaving bodies on her property.
Demanded it. So I started leaving them on various trailheads in Rocky Mountain National Park.
I wanted her to know when an abuser paid the price for his or her crimes, but she didn’t appreciate my gifts or Sheriff Mills’ repeated visits after the bodies were discovered.
So I stopped, determined to heed her wishes.
Now, Cade is back to handling the cleanup and disposal.
I’ll have to find some other way to show her my devotion when I’ve eliminated the filth that makes her cry.
Besides, the sheriff is a better detective than I gave her credit for. And ever since Pearson’s body was found, after our altercation at Elk Fest, Mills has been sniffing around me.
“Let’s take a break from anyone in Luna’s files for a while, unless a gruesome or urgent case comes in. We should focus more on targets out of state.”
He nods. “Any particular area in mind?”
“East Coast. Florida to Maine.”
“Our East Coast list is long.” Cade takes out his phone, and his thumbs move across the screen. “There are lots of abusers in New England. Good call. I’ll get started on a priority list today.”
Death rolls off his tongue like quarterly reports—clean, organized, and stripped of emotion.
“Are you going to be able to tear yourself away from the doctor for the trips?”
I give him a look cold enough to frost glass. “Let me worry about my time with Luna. Just be prepared to assist.”
Cade and I are both licensed pilots. When we have a target outside Colorado, he flies my plane while I handle the hunting and capture. The kills themselves and the disposal—those always happen here. On familiar ground where we control every variable.
“We need to talk about Caleb Hunter.”
“Dr. Foster’s ex? What about him?”