Werewolves of Minnesota

Yeah, it’s a thing. I’m sure of it. At least, in my world it is. πŸ˜‰ Here’s a fast fact/tidbit about my werewolves. They can’t get tattoos. Well, they can, but they usually don’t. Because when they shift, well, it doesn’t screw up the ink too much, but it alters it a little, all those atoms and cells rearranging, don’t you know. So eventually, after hundreds of shifts, that tattoo is not going to look good at all. (Vamps don’t get tats either, but that’s only because they heal so rapidly it is a lesson in futility.)

Now on with the story!

smbossTHE BOSS’S MOONLIGHT SECRET β€” Chapter 22

Cady pulled him into a hug and whispered, “Never apologize for saving me.”

Her body shook against his. And his werewolf wanted out again because the vile threat had caused her fear. He’d chased the man off, but had had the sense not to take him down and attack him. Not in the city. He couldn’t risk remaining in werewolf shape for long, so he’d shifted back.

Blaise tucked his head against Cady’s soft, corn silk hair. If anything had happened to her he would have never forgiven himself. But he knew he couldn’t always be there to protect her. The world was a vicious place. His brother was an example of that.

He could be thankful he’d been able to help this time.

“That was risky,” she said, clinging to him.

“I had to do it. My werewolf reacted.”

She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. He knew what she was thinking. Yes, so he’d lost some control. But he was a better man for it. And she was alive because of it.

“Let me walk you to your apartment?”

She nodded and tapped his chest. “I may have a T-shirt you can borrow. You’ve got the abs to pull off this look, but still.”

At her place, Blaise pulled on a well-worn men’s T-shirt, and wasn’t going to question why she had such a thing. Standing before the door to leave, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Holding her felt exquisitely right. Could he allow himself to set aside the control and let out his wild for her? If she’d been frightened by a small dog, he suspected his werewolf had little chance at earning her acceptance.

Yet he couldn’t give up. Not on Cady.

“We’re either going to have to stop doing this,” he said, “or we’ll have to follow through one of these days.”

“I vote for following through.”

That’s what he hoped she’d say. “Do you want to go to my cabin with me this weekend?”

“Is that where you relinquish control?”

“It is. But don’t worry, it’s not the full moon. You won’t have to deal with my werewolf. I promise.”

“Then I’m in.”


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