Excerpt from Diamond Moon Rising by Celia Breslin
A thump from outside on his deck, heavier than the staccato taps of the hail, halted him in his foyer. More offbeat thuds sounded near the front door.
Company in this weather?
No one would venture up his private road uninvited…
He stalked to his door and released a bit of power in warning. If they were a shifter, they would likely take the hint. And if they didn’t… Well, he was a dominant wolf, a Beta, and one of the alpha’s enforcers.
They don’t stand a chance.
The feedback froze his fingers on the doorknob.
Female.
He inhaled. Damn, she smells good.
Human. Wolf.
Wait…both?
The copper tang of blood hit his nose. She’s injured.
He flung open the door and caught his visitor off guard, one small, white fist raised to knock. The woman startled then fell forward. Ross caught her in his arms then pulled her inside, kicking the door shut with one booted foot.
The petite female sagged against him, a shivering bundle of sopping wet woman. Underneath the dampness, her scent drop-kicked his gut.
Fresh and sweet, like apples dipped in cinnamon and honey.
His body perked up, taking extreme notice. A growl of possession threatened to tear out of his throat, and an ancient, primal energy stirred to life inside him, accelerating his pulse.
Holy hell, she’s my potential mate.
The scent of her blood spurred him into action. He lowered her gently to the floor. “Are you okay?”
His instincts urged him to check her for wounds everywhere, but he was a stranger and didn’t want to spook her. But goddamn, he wanted to touch her. Peel off her wet clothes. To see all of her and warm her with his body.
With a jacket covering her torso, baggy jeans hiding her legs, and a ball cap pulled low over her face, all he could see so far was her quivering pale chin, full red lips, and delicate, trembling fingers peeking out from her coat sleeves.
“S-s-sorry, d-dripping all ov-v-ver your f-f-floor,” she said, her teeth chattering.
Her snow-white fingers curled into fists, her arms trembling with the effort to keep herself upright. Blood droplets dotted the floor plank near her hip.
To hell with propriety. “You’re injured. Let me help you.” He pulled up her cap and damn near swallowed his tongue.
Big green eyes blinked up at him from a face so pale it made him think of moonlight. Drenched, short black hair lay plastered to her head, the ends framing features reminiscent of the fairies his sister loved to draw.
Ethereal beauty. Want her to be my beauty.
She flinched and batted his hand away. “Stop,” she rasped before listing to her side, her body trembling.
With the cold or fear?
He desperately didn’t want her to be afraid. “Sorry. Please, let me help you. I’m Ross. You’re safe here. I promise.”
7
