"No." He shook his head, shot her a frustrated look, and his fingers rose to comb through his hair, pulling some of the thick strands free from the ponytail. "It's just a saying. It's an apartment over a bar. It's nice. Wolves don't usually live in actual dens. Wild ones prefer caves."

"That's good to know."

He shrugged. "Let's go, kitten."

"Stop calling me that."

He frowned at her again, took a step closer, and his eyes narrowed. "Let's set something straight now. I'm in charge. I'm the one who will be protecting you because you need it. Stop arguing with me, it p.i.s.ses me off, and just do what you're told. Otherwise I'll have someone bring me a duffle bag, toss you in it, and take you out of here the way I would a cat with raised hackles." Disbelief held Shannon silent for a few erratic heartbeats. "I didn't ask for your help and I don't want it. Leave my apartment."

He closed the distance between them and Shannon cried out in fear when he grabbed her. Her back hit the wall, b.u.mping it painlessly. He pinned her between it and his big, powerful body. She stared into his angry gaze.

"Do you want me to tell you what those pups would have done to you if you'd been here when they came? You'd have been lucky if they just tore you apart with their teeth and claws while they killed you. They were male and you're attractive. I smell at least five of them total. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"No." Her voice shook, her body trembled, and horror spread through her at what he implied.

"Good." He blew out air, released her as quickly as he'd grabbed her, and backed up. "I'm going to make sure no one lays a hand, fang, or claw on you. I'll stop calling you kitten when you stop acting so naive. I'm trying to do what I promised. Work with me."

"I don't know you," she stated honestly. "My instincts tell me not to trust you and I've been warned my entire life how dangerous shifters are."

He hesitated and something in his expression softened. "I always keep my word and you're safe with me. I won't hurt you. I may growl and snarl a bit when I'm angry but I've never killed a woman in my life."

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. "I don't know what to do." It made her feel vulnerable to admit that.

His hand lifted slowly until his fingers lightly caressed her cheek. "I understand." He brushed her hair away from her cheek before he dropped his hand to his side, taking another step back, to put more s.p.a.ce between them. "If it helps, I'm determined to keep you safe whether you allow me to or not. You can fight but you won't win. The decision isn't yours any longer. I couldn't look in a mirror if I just stood by doing nothing while I knew you were in danger. My pups did this and you've become my responsibility now."

Something clicked in Shannon's mind. "You have called them your pups before." Her tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. "Are you their alpha?" Please say no, she thought. Alphas were supposed to be the most brutal and ruthless werewolves of any pack.

He shook his head. "No."

The tension eased from her body and it gave her hope that he just happened to be a nice guy after all, albeit still a werewolf. His next words dashed that feeling as if he'd dumped cold water on her.

"I'm the son of their alpha and I'm the first in line to take over the pack when he steps down or dies."

Her knees threatened to collapse but she fought the fear that surged as she locked her legs to remain standing. They watched each other silently for long moments before he glanced around her room.

"Let's go."

"My clothes"

"Are all destroyed." He stopped at the door. "Stop wasting time. The faster I get you where I know I can leave you safely alone, the quicker I can go handle this mess by tracking them down. I've got clothing you can borrow until we're able to buy you new stuff." Shannon hesitated but then moved, stepping over the destroyed pillow in her path. She tried not to flinch as she took in the damage to her living room again. His pups were methodical in their destruction, not leaving anything untouched.

The apartment manager stood talking to the neighbors as they left. She opened her mouth to speak to the man but she never got the chance.

"I'm Anton Harris, a family friend of Shannon's." He directed an intimidating scowl at the manager. "I'm taking her to a safe location until they catch these punks. I expect you to have that door fixed immediately and guard her property until it is. I'm holding you personally responsible if anything else happens."

Her mouth dropped open and she intended to apologize but Anton chose that moment to reach back, grab hold of her limp hand, and gently lead her away from everyone. He walked her to the curb where a big black motorcycle was parked, released her, and climbed on the beast of a bike. He straddled the machine and arched an eyebrow at her.

"I know you can hold on tight." He leaned over a little, his hand reaching for something on the other side of the bike, and then held out a helmet. "Close your mouth and climb on behind me." Shannon considered refusing to leave with him. She could make a scene and he wouldn't dare force her onto his bike with so many witnesses around. He'd flashed his license at the cop, giving away his ident.i.ty. She stared into his eyes while he held out the helmet and made a decision. He hadn't hurt her so far and someone definitely had it out for her, as her poor apartment, full of damaged possessions, could attest.

"Okay, but I'm holding you to your word."

"Good." He gave her a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm the only chance you have of staying safe. You've got nothing to fear from me."

She didn't totally believe that but accepted the protective headgear and carefully put it on. It startled her as Anton reached up to secure the strap under her chin. Their gazes met and held until he finished.

"Ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"No."

Amus.e.m.e.nt flashed on his handsome, rugged features. "You'll enjoy it a h.e.l.l of a lot. Just wrap around me, don't let go, and trust me."

Shannon hesitated. "The only person I could ever trust has been my mother." He looked away, his gaze flickering anywhere but at her. "Sorry to hear it. Get on, kitten." Irritation flashed at his nickname for her. She had asked him to stop but he refused. She stepped off the curb and lifted a leg, awkwardly climbing onto the wide, long seat, grateful her loose skirt was easy to tuck firmly around her legs. It felt surprisingly comfortable to straddle the bike. Anton turned his head to peer at her over his shoulder while he lifted a second helmet.

"Stop calling me that."

"I told you why I do it."

"What the h.e.l.l does that mean?"

He hesitated, tightening the strap under his chin, but never looking away from her while he did it. "I'm attracted to you and I think you're cute. It would be flat-out stupid if I didn't remind myself of that every time I feel my body respond to yours, considering that, by blood, we're sworn enemies." His brutal honestly left her speechless. He winked and turned away. The motorcycle started, the loud engine stopped whatever conversation they could have had. She reached forward, hesitated, and then wrapped her arms around his waist. She had to press her body firmly against his broad back to lock her fingers together. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and clung when he pulled away from the curb.

Chapter Four.

Anton parked the bike inside the secure employee parking lot behind the bar. He killed the engine, grateful that none of the staff stood outside the back door smoking. The arms around him loosened and the warmth snuggled against his back jerked away. He refrained from cursing when he realized he didn't like it one bit when Shannon separated their bodies.

He reached back, offering his hand. "Your legs may be sore so move slowly when you stand." Irritation rose when she totally ignored his offer to steady her, avoided touching him, and climbed off the bike, careful not to flash him as she gripped her skirt. She took a few steps and then nearly fell on her a.s.s after her legs buckled a little. He shook his head as he watched her sway before she caught her balance and turned to face him.

"I warned you. You said you've never ridden before."

"Did you have to hit every pothole and speed b.u.mp on your way here?" Her eyes flashed with anger.

Guilty, he thought, and hid the grin that threatened to curve his lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied. He'd never admit that he'd enjoyed her lush little body clutching him or how perverted he felt when he'd discovered that her hands lowered precariously close to his erection when he'd had to drive over a speed b.u.mp on her residential street. It had taken hitting at least a dozen of them to put her hold where he'd wanted itover his aching c.o.c.k. It had been torture feeling her rub against him when the bike jostled them but he'd enjoyed every second of it.

"I swear, you gunned for every single one. I drive a lot and I've never had to go over so many of them."

He looked away before she could see his face, worried she'd guess he'd had ulterior motives. He braced a boot and stood, swung a leg over the seat, and refrained from adjusting his c.o.c.k when the hard length pressed uncomfortably against his zipper.

"I took back alleys to avoid traffic." The lame excuse came easy. He held out his hand. "Take it.

We're going inside and you're going to run into more of my pack." Fear etched her delicate features and his protective instincts roared to life. It left Anton alarmed at his swift reactions to her emotions. He'd been reared to protect females but he admitted something was off. His response to her terror had his beast fighting to come out to defend her.

"Trust me."

He really wanted that from her and worse, he needed it. He sensed it as vibrantly as he did the wolf living under his skin. He watched and waited for her to place her smaller hand inside his. The tension rose between them until she stepped closer, looking undecided still, but then her palm brushed across his. His fingers wrapped firmly around hers and he tried to ignore how soft he found her skin.

"Do you want me to carry you? The last thing we need is you trying to climb the walls. I'd rather you just hang tight to me."

"No." Her chin lifted bravely and determination shone in her beautiful blue eyes. "I can do this." He admired her courage but she'd admitted her control over her instincts weren't the greatest.

His hold on her tightened enough that he knew she couldn't jerk away from him. He headed toward the back entrance door. He silently hoped he'd be able to get her into his apartment without coming into contact with anyone.

Shannon tried hard to ignore the clawing terror that had her itching to run. She'd never had to face such strong instincts before and guessed the blame for it rested squarely on the broad shoulders of the s.e.xy shifter who led her into his den. Her blood may have been diluted of shifter genes but fearing dogs, werewolves especially, seemed to be ingrained in her DNA.

The second he touched the handle of the door, she had to fight down pure panic that struck hard enough to make breathing impossible. Her hand tightened in his and he turned his head, giving her a concerned look.

"Are you okay?"

"What is wrong with me?"

He spun, released her hand, and an instant later she gasped when her feet left the ground and two strong, big arms came around her. Her back gently b.u.mped the wall next to the door when he turned them, effectively pinning her with his body. He lifted her higher up on his chest until their eyes were level.

"Hold on to me," he ordered.

She didn't resist since her arms and legs wrapped around him faster than she could think. It helped but not much. She stared wide eyed at him and a soft growl came from deep within his throat.

Shivers ran down her spine and a soft hiss escaped her parted lips. At the same time, she realized her fingernails bit into his shirt where her hands had slid under his jacket.

"Easy with the claws, kitten. I've got you and what you're experiencing is normal. The scent of pack is very strong here. You may not realize you can smell it but you obviously can. You should see your eyes." He stared into them. "d.a.m.n."

Alarm gripped her. "My eyes? What's wrong?"

He studied the depths of her eyes and softly growled again. "Your body may not be able to shift but your eyes do slightly. You've got cat eyes now, bright blue ones with a h.e.l.l of a lot of exotic yellow, and they are the prettiest things I've ever seen."

She glanced over his shoulder, gauged her vision for any changes, but didn't notice any. She looked back, staring into dark, intense werewolf eyes that seemed to have turned nearly black.

"Your eyes," she whispered.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "My voice is going to get deeper too." She didn't need to be told that as she shivered again at his rough, slightly altered tone. "Why?"

"You are terrified but it's something else entirely for me."

"What?"

He softly growled again. "I want to f.u.c.k you so bad it hurts." Mute, she gaped at him, never expecting him to say that to her. He closed his eyes and turned his head enough to expose his throat to her. She found her voice again.

"Are you offering foreplay? I remember what you said about sniffing your neck. I don't think"

"If you brush your nose against my skin, I'll tear your clothes off and take you where we stand.

I'm trying to get a grip on my wolf and not looking at you helps."

"Put me down."

A louder snarl vibrated his chest against hers. "Don't fight me. You do and you're f.u.c.ked in every sense."

She held very still, breathing softly, and watched his tight expression closely. His jaw clenched, flexing muscles along his jawline, and then his generous lips parted as he took deep breaths, which rubbed his chest against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. To her shock they responded, the nipples hardened and a sound came out of her that she'd never heard before.

Anton's head snapped in her direction as his eyes flew open to stare at her with an intense, smoldering look. "You purr."

"I don't," she denied, despite the soft noise that she had emitted resembled exactly that.

"You"

The back door next to them suddenly exploded outward when a tall woman barged from the interior of the bar, cursing a blue streak, interrupting whatever Anton had been about to say. Shannon's eyes widened in stunned dismay when she realized the red stains on the white shirt and tight jeans the woman sported had to be fresh blood. It also marred the woman's hands.

"What happened, Glenda?" Anton snarled the words.

The woman spun, startled, and then bent, reaching for a hose attached to the side of the building. "Those stupid pups got in a fight while trying to play bada.s.ses for a few b.i.t.c.hes. It's days away but s.h.i.t has already started for the pairing up." Her dark gaze shifted to Shannon and her eyebrows shot up. "Wow. Is that the b.i.t.c.h from up north? I thought she wouldn't arrive until tonight." The water turned on.

"Um..." Anton hesitated.

The muscled, at least six-foot-tall woman laughed. "What are they crossbreeding with up there?

She's tiny. She part Chihuahua or something? It's insulting that a pack sent that for you test out. They have to be desperate to hook up with a stronger breed. You're going to break her before the fun starts."

"f.u.c.k," Anton grumbled. "Anyone dead inside?"

Glenda washed down her arms and hands with the hose to remove the blood. "Nope. We broke it up before it got that far. Von is making them pay for the s.h.i.t they busted up though. They took out five tables and dented a wall pretty bad but nothing a little drywall and paint won't fix." Shannon gaped at the scary-looking woman. Thick muscles corded the woman's arms as she turned off the hose and straightened. Tattoos adorned both curves of her broad shoulders and peeked out from where her low-cut top dipped between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Shannon had no doubt that this was her first sighting of a female werewolf, and if they all looked like this one, they could be pretty darn vicious.

"Ban their a.s.ses. They know I don't tolerate that s.h.i.t inside my bar."

"I already told them, Anton." Dark eyes lit on Shannon again and the woman moved closer.

"Want me to get rid of that runt for you?" A cold smile formed on her lips. "Send a message that we're insulted at what they consider their best?"

Anton's body tensed. "Back off now, Glenda."

The woman froze and then made a strange face, her nose scrunching, and then a snarl tore from her parted lips. Pure rage transformed her features. "Puma. The fresh blood on me from the fight masked her scent at first."

If looks could kill, Shannon had no doubt she'd have died in that instant. The woman lunged forward, ignoring Anton's command. He cursed and released Shannon with one arm, his open palm hitting the advancing woman hard in the chest. The push sent her staggering back and she landed on her a.s.s.

"I said, back off," Anton roared.

A snarl came from the downed woman and she never took her hateful glare from Shannon. "Let me kill her. Please?"

Anton gripped Shannon with both hands again, his arms feeling similar to steel bands around her waist, and growled low and deep, from his chest. "She's a guest here. You don't touch her. No one does."

Glenda turned her rage on Anton. "A what?"

"Guest. I've extended my protection to her."