Her destiny is etched in his skin…and carved in her heart.
Morgan Stills is a woman without a future. At least, that’s what the carnival psychic tells her. Love is foretold as well, but too bad. She’s already been marked for death.
She no sooner flees the psychic’s tent when she’s confronted by the biggest wolf she’s ever seen. A wolf that talks to her—right before she’s enveloped in a black cloak and dragged away.
Caleb was born for one purpose: follow the burning of his tattoo to find and protect his destined mate, the Huntress. When he rescues her from Lazarus, the king of beasts, what thanks does he get? A swift kick in his tender parts that leaves him writhing in a ball of pain.
Morgan quickly realizes her destiny lies with the Order of the Wolf. The only catch—she must choose between two sworn enemies who vie for her body, heart, and soul. Marked as a Huntress, thrust into an ancient feud between werewolf and Hunter, she must pick up a sword or die. And somehow learn to live without the man she is destined to kill.
Warning: Be prepared for fiery hot, melt-your-panties men, all muscle and sinew, searching for their one true mate. Committed, hot, and horny. What could be better?
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Continue reading for the excerpt – warning: adults only!
“Open the fucking door, woman.”
I snapped out of my thoughts and quickly yanked the keys from my pocket, steadying my hands before jamming the right key into the lock and twisting the knob. He pushed me back as I opened the door, barreling both of us into the house, and then quickly slammed the door shut behind him.
The wolves howled their anger, bolting up onto the porch and throwing themselves against the door. Caleb twisted the lock into place and slid the deadbolt home then braced himself against the vibrating door as he glared at me. Plastered up against the opposite wall, too terrified to move, I stared back, unsure of what he wanted.
The light from the half moon shone through the skylight, bathing the small foyer in an eerie glow. I squinted at him, my eyes slowly growing accustomed to the dim light. His clothes were in tatters, he had long, blood-encrusted scratches on his exposed flesh and dirt caked his head. He had fought to get to me, had been through hell after I’d left him at the carnival.
Yeah, left him writhing in pain on the ground. I winced at the memory of kicking him in the groin.
So what? He scared the crap out of you, remember?
The ringing of his cell phone startled me out of my thoughts. He pulled it from his pocket, then swiped his finger across the screen before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He glared over at me. “Where’s the cloak?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and winced. “I left it on the sidewalk up the street.”
He nodded, his eyes blazing with new anger. “Did you hear that? Yeah, okay. Make it quick, they’re blocking the front entrance.” He tapped the phone screen off just as the window to his left shattered and a long paw slithered in and snagged on the window ledge.
He reacted swiftly, swinging his sword down like an axe. The paw landed with a thump on the floor, blood gushing in an arc. The wolf let loose a yowl as it yanked what was left of its leg out the window. I covered my mouth, my eyes wide, shock stopping my throat from working properly or surely I would have screamed.
He dropped his sword into the floor, the sharp point embedded into the wood.
The floor! Hardwood! No, wait, scary wolf. Oh god.
Caleb’s back was to me, his fingers moving along the door, sweeping up, down, in circles, creating invisible words or symbols. I watched as he traced and retraced the same pattern, my gaze following his fingers so that I could practically see what he was putting there. He was murmuring under his breath as well, his voice a whisper. As I moved a step closer, a sudden current of energy washed over me, tingling my skin, creating goose bumps, pumping my heart back up to the frenzy of moments before.
“What are you doing?” My words were a whisper.
He cocked his head, his fingers still on the door. He spoke to me through clenched teeth. “Get upstairs and pack a bag. Essentials only. As soon as the others get here, we’re leaving. Your home is no longer safe.”
I gaped at him, shock too mild a word for what I was feeling.
He spun so suddenly that I jerked backward, almost falling to the ground. He reached out and gripped my arm before pulling me so close his lips brushed my ear. I gasped as my body responded instantly, my mind locking up with the dizzying effects of lust.
I pressed myself against him—suddenly craving his touch more than anything. A stranger, a man I knew nothing about, but wanted so desperately to possess. I slid my free arm around his waist, my hand splayed dangerously close to his butt. The rigid tension of his anger seemed to ease and he panted softly in my ear, a sound that had me burning for more of him in every way.
He pulled his head back until he was looking down at me, his expression suddenly tender. He gently brushed aside my bangs and trailed his fingers down my cheek and along my jaw, his thumb rubbing my bottom lip as he bit his own.
I ran my tongue over his thumb. His answering look of shock had me smiling.
“Why do you keep coming to my rescue, Caleb?” Words coated with sultry tones, like nothing I’d heard myself say before, came whispering out of my mouth.
My voice seemed to snap him out of a trance. He released his hold on me and jerked his head toward the stairs. “Go and get some clothes.” He cleared his throat as he took a step away. “We have to leave.” He pushed me gently. “Hurry.”
I hesitated at the bottom step, staring back at him as my mind fought against my instinct to obey. What had possessed me to come onto him that way? He was hot—I’d give him that. His lips were full, eyes intense, his body built for a UFC ring.
The door trembled under the weight of the wolves’ onslaught, startling me back to reality. I shuddered. Not safe. We needed to leave. He nodded over at me one last time before I quickly sprinted up the stairs.
About the Author
Every day is Halloween for author Angela Addams. Enthralled by the paranormal at an early age, Angela spends most of her time thinking up new story ideas that involve supernatural creatures in everyday situations. She believes that the written word is an amazing tool for crafting the most erotic of scenarios.
She is an avid tattoo collector, a total book hoarder and loves anything covered in chocolate…except for bugs.
She lives in Ontario, Canada in an old, creaky house, with her husband and children.
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