Chapter Three
A Party Accident
“This party blows,” Bryon said.
“Are you kidding me?” His best friend, Harold, clapped him on the shoulder, letting out a whoop that could be heard over the music. “This party is the best thing I’ve experienced since watching you fall in that lake last month.”
Bryon shook his head, resisting a grin as he took another sip of his beer.
He peered over the rim of his cup, sweeping his gaze around the living room.
The lights were dim, the music deafening, and a crowd of thirty, maybe forty, people were dancing, drinking or, like him, standing in a corner with a drink in hand.
In his periphery, he spotted a few women making their way drunkenly up the stairs.
“It’s almost like a college party,” Harold said, with a huge grin on his face.
“Except we’re not in college,” Bryon couldn’t help pointing out. “We’re in our thirties. We should be at home right now, or sitting in some bar that’s about to close for the night.”
His friend smirked, his green eyes gleaming even in the dim light. He brushed his red hair out of his face. “Oh, come on, buddy. It’s a great party. You’re just disappointed because Ravishing Rhoda didn’t show up.”
“How many times have I told you not to call her that?”
Harold simply shrugged. “What? It’s a compliment. She is a beautiful woman, and if you don’t ask her out soon, some other guy just might. I keep telling you: you’re not the only one with eyes.”
Bryon frowned at his cup, his friend’s words replaying themselves in his mind.
He and Harold had known each other for the best part of the last decade.
If he was being honest, he’d lucked out when it came to friendship.
Over the years, he and Harold had become almost inseparable.
They’d spent plenty of time together over beers, steak, and the occasional conversation about either man’s latest squeeze.
Heck, they practically knew each other’s every secret.
Well, not every secret. For all his redeeming qualities, Harold was still human, which meant there were limits to the things Bryon could reveal about himself.
“Right,” he replied, unsure whether his friend could hear him over the music.
“Then again,” Harold went on, “you’re not so bad-looking.”
Bryon couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “’preciate the compliment, buddy.”
“No, I’m serious. There are at least six different women looking in our direction right now, and I’m sure it’s not me they’re ogling.”
Bryon looked around the room again. Sure enough, half a dozen women dancing or standing by the walls were glancing in his direction, hopeful expressions on their faces. They were pretty, just not his type.
“At least half of them look like they’re DTF,” Harold said, leaning in close and speaking right into his ear, like a devil on his shoulder. “I think you should go for it.”
“Not interested.” Bryon shook his head. “I think I need to go get some fresh air.”
Harold lifted an eyebrow, flashing his friend a look of mock suspicion. “You’re not going to try to run off, are you?”
Actually, he could use a good run tonight. Just the thought of it made Bryon’s inner wolf growl with excitement. He shook his head again. “Of course not. I just need a short break. I’ll take a walk or something. Be back in twenty minutes.”
He handed Harold his drink, leaving the living room before the other man could say another word. He made his way to the back door of the house, relishing the cool night air that immediately hit him as he stepped outside. It was quieter now, the party music muffled.
Bryon glanced around, searching for signs of life.
From the back porch, he could make out a cluster of trees silhouetted against the moonlit sky.
Thirty feet away, a lone swing squeaked softly in the gentle breeze.
No sign of anybody. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the party.
Good for them. Right now, what he needed was to move around for a bit.
He made for the trees, pausing at the tree line to peel off his clothes. Then he started to shift, summoning the wolf from within. Fur sprouted onto his skin, claws extending from his fingertips.
“Hey!” called a voice from behind him. “Bryon, you’re never going to believe who just showed up. It’s Ravishing—what the hell?”
He spun around then, mid-transformation, and his heart nearly dropped into his stomach. Standing on the porch steps, staring open-mouthed at him, was the last person in the world who should be there.
“Bryon?” Harold said.
***
“Are we almost out of the woods yet?”
Miranda’s voice dragged him out of his memories.
When he turned to look at her, he could tell she was uncomfortable.
As they walked, she gripped his bicep to support him, although Bryon was starting to wonder whether it was she who needed supporting.
Every time they heard a sound, whether it was a twig snapping or a creature scampering across their path, her grip tightened, and she looked like she might jump into his arms.
“Not quite,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her darker blue eye for a second before returning to the path winding between the trees ahead of them.
She gave a soft groan that tickled his insides. “How much longer?”
“Hard to tell. We’re going to rescue the foal first.”
“Wait, what? You’re kidding, right?”
Just then, a sharp pain shot up his foot, and he suppressed a wince. Bryon clenched his jaw. He and Miranda had been on the move for what felt like half an hour, although it could be longer. He’d done all he could to avoid placing unnecessary pressure on his injury, but it still hurt like hell.
“Finding it shouldn’t take long.” He needed to get out of Paradise Woods as badly as she did, and to at least see to his injury properly before it worsened. But the foal was still somewhere around here. He couldn’t just leave it to die.
She stopped and turned to face him, blinking at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?”
“No, I’m an animal rescuer. That’s what I do; I rescue animals.”
She didn’t object further, but she shot him a look that suggested he belonged in a loony bin.
His heart slammed against his ribcage. There was, of course, the other reason he was hesitant to leave the woods so soon.
What were the odds that she wouldn’t try to reveal his secret him the second they were back in town?
He’d only been bluffing when he claimed no one would believe her. Everyone had believed Harold, hadn’t they?
He gritted his teeth as his foot throbbed, and he pulled the bathrobe tighter around his body. Thank goodness Miranda had been wearing it over her pajamas when she found him. Their journey through the woods would’ve been much more awkward, otherwise.
Not to mention, she didn’t need to see the effect her presence was having on him.
Bryon licked his lips without thinking. More than once, he’d felt a stirring in his groin at the mere sound of her voice.
And just ten minutes ago, when she tightened her grip on his arm, his mind had spun into overdrive, conjuring up images of her wrapping her entire body around him as he drove into her and—
Focus, he reminded himself, not for the first time. You have a foal to find.
If he was lucky, it would still be alive, except his luck hadn’t been great so far. Without his wolf’s speed and powerful nose, finding the foal might take a while.
***
Bryon was a lunatic. There was no other explanation for his actions.
One would think a man with a badly injured foot would be in a hurry to get out of the woods and to a hospital, but no.
He wanted to take a detour and rescue an animal, a foal, for that matter.
Miranda could feel her initial fears about him slowly giving way to disbelief and annoyance.
They were supposed to be helping each other out of here. What the hell was he thinking?
“Watch your step,” she muttered, as they approached a cluster of roots stretching across the ground.
If he heard her, he gave no indication. She tightened her grip on his arm, trying her best to steady him as he lifted one foot after another, stepping over the roots. Twice, she saw his face tighten with pain, though she could tell he was trying not to show it.
All the more reason to get the hell out of here, she thought with a flicker of irritation. I can’t believe we’re still in these woods because he’s trying to play Jane Goodall.
Where was Jerry now? She hadn’t seen a sign of him.
But the man was relentless, especially when it came to her.
He wouldn’t give up the chase easily. No doubt, he was still in these woods.
She swept her gaze around, trying to catch a glimpse of him lurking in a tree or behind a trunk, but saw nothing.
“We’re not being followed,” Bryon said all of a sudden, causing her to look up at him. His gaze was trained ahead, his jaw clenched. “I’d know it if we were.”
How? she wanted to ask, but she already suspected the answer.
The man could turn into a wolf. He even looked somewhat like a wolf, with his long brown hair and hairy arms. It stood to reason that he’d at least have a couple of other wolfish qualities.
Did he eat people? He hadn’t shown any signs of hunger so far, but she was dealing with an entity she’d never encountered before.
It wasn’t exactly far-fetched to assume it was possible.
“Thanks for helping me,” he went on. “I’d probably still be in that clearing if it wasn’t for you.”
Miranda opened her mouth to respond, but just then, he stumbled forward with a heavy grunt and would’ve toppled over if she hadn’t held onto him with all her might. God, he was heavy. She nearly lost her balance herself, but dug her heels into the ground, pushing him up against a tree.