"Black and white scotch. Two of them," Thane Frost told a nearby waiter, who hurried away in clear relief. His queen, Cimorene Frost, studied Florence with open interest. Florence sensed Tobias' irritation at that fact, but felt surprisingly composed herself. Perhaps it would be better if she showed human manners toward them. Let them believe she knew nothing of wolves.

The alpha-king's next words were for Tobias, and they thickened into a different language. "How are you, little cousin? Have you forgotten more of the mother tongue?"

Florence's unease for Tobias grew. The alpha-king spoke fluently in one of the three languages of the Ulflands. She still understood it well enough to recognize which one, and which pack he was likely from.

Tobias answered in the common language of the city. "Would it matter if I have?"

"At least your knack for evading questions is stronger than ever. You know it matters. You're destroying yourself with this life, if it can be called as such. And for what, mere money?"

"I'm shallow, and it's an easier job than pit fighting."

The alpha-queen spoke, words as intent as her gaze. "The more you lie to us, the more intrigued we become. I can sense all the deaths in someone's past. It's marked on the soul like a map. You loved to fight and loved to kill, just like the rest of us. So why stop?"

"Scars are bad for this line of work."

The she-wolf smiled thinly, but her king scoffed and said, "Who's constricted you to this life? A debt collector? Some other human you owe too much to? You know I can pay off any amount."

In her surprise, Florence nearly slipped and looked at the wolf full in the face. Something more than sarcasm had slid into the alpha-king's words. He sounded exasperated, as though this was an offer made many times before. With effort, she kept fidgeting with her bracelet as if uncomfortable in their presence.

Tobias remained nonchalant. "Can't say I'm interested. Even if that was the situation—and I'm not saying it is—I'd only be replacing one debt with another."

Thane Frost's voice grew sardonic again. "Whatever your reason, you can't whore yourself out much longer. My sources in the city have learned that the district attorney is interested in cleaning up all levels of prostitution, and your name is among them."

Florence's heart contracted in panic, but she tried to remain composed as the alpha-queen glanced at her, gold eyes disconcertingly intent.

When Tobias said nothing, the other wolf added, "None of these well-bred humans will risk their reputation for you. You need pack protection, Tobias, and no other king will offer the safety of his name. Most would kill you for letting humans believe a wolf enjoys being led around on a leash. I should as well before you devolve fully into a dog."

Florence's anger boiled over. She let her teeth flash as she spoke in perfect Upper Ulvish. "And then you would return to drinking your five-hundred-dollar scotch and dancing among us? How strange, that you disdain our luxury and yet bask in it—and in our presence."

A moment of silence passed as all three wolves stared at her. She matched stares with the alpha-king, too furious to feel fear.

Then his queen laughed without showing her teeth and turned to him. "You can't fault her for tweaking your tail when you went after his."

When her focus returned to Florence, she added, "Well met. My name is Cimorene Frost."

Florence glanced at Tobias, unsure if she should introduce herself. His pupils had contracted into pinpoints, but he gave her no sign of what he thought. After a moment, she said, "Miss Florence Wheeler."

"Who taught you the language, and so well? The Frosthounds are the only pack left with northern wolves."

"I've spent time in the Ulflands."

"Fascinating," said the alpha-king, voice dry. The surprise in his eyes had shifted into an abrasive glitter that warned he wouldn't be any nicer to her than he had been with Tobias. "Since you want to be part of the conversation, who else have you bought for your pleasure?"

Tobias' posture stiffened with aggression. "Leave her out of it, Frost."

"It's all right," said Florence, and meant it. "I know the Frostfall wolves are as harsh with their words as with their teeth."

She had guessed the Frostfalls to be Thane's original pack by his accent as much as his nature. The slight change in his expression proved her right.

He didn't give her the respect of averting his gaze but did settle back into his seat, amusement filling his next words. "My queen was right. You're much more interesting than Rosewood's usual clients."

Florence glanced at the she-wolf again. Cimorene looked serene as she brushed her king's arm. "There's death marked in your soul. Death in your past, and death to come. You're quite willing to kill in the right circumstances."

Had they already guessed her secret? She didn't dare look over at Tobias but still sensed his rising anger; the only reason he hadn't spoken was because it would undermine her actions and make her look weaker to the other wolves. They were walking a thin line between conversation and threat.

Strangely, the Frosthound couple looked more relaxed by the second. Perhaps her boldness had made her too interesting to attack.

The scotch was served before Cimorene spoke again, turning her attention to Tobias. "Your killing instincts have changed since we last met. I think... you are one step closer to your fate."

His reply sounded flat. "I don't care about that sort of thing."

"As you've often said," mused the alpha-king, gaze flickering to him before returning to Florence. His next words were for her. "I recognize your last name and therefore you. You're the daughter of Simon Wheeler, the human archeologist who was interested in the secrets of ancient wolves."

Florence nodded. "Perhaps you met him. I know he made contact with the Frostfall wolves."

"Briefly. You weren't there."

Her heart cramped at the realization that she faced someone who had memories of her father, however slight. "Father didn't wish to expose me to the dangers of the ice mountains, so I remained behind at a secondary dig that was in the milder climate of a glacial valley."

"With the Blackridge Pack," he said, surprising her.

This time, she did glance at Tobias. He didn't react, but it was clear that his tension increased every moment she remained under Thane's attention.

She tried to stay crisp in manner. "Yes. How did you know?"

Instead of answering, he shared a glance with his queen. The interest in their faces had grown into outright satisfaction, as though some puzzle had just been solved for them. His demeanor, however, lost none of its brusqueness. "How did you recognize my accent?"

Although aware of the danger of irritating a wolf, she decided to keep their attention on her instead of Tobias. After all, she had the safety of being human. The worst they could do was make her uncomfortable. With this in mind, she answered freely. "I met a few Frostfall wolves who were traveling through the continent, enough to learn their dialect and to learn they are rather unique in finding a mate. Many need to travel long distances instead of remaining within the pack."

"Very true," said Thane, swirling his scotch around in its glass. The fact that a human knew so much about his birth pack didn't seem to offend him at all. Perhaps this testing of wills could smooth out into a casual conversation over dinner.

His queen's attention had remained on Tobias. Then she said, "What were the ways of your pack, Rosewood? Did they believe in fated mates?"

Tobias glanced at her with an expression that promised he was in no mood to play along.

"Show her respect." The alpha-king's tone didn't change, but his teeth flashed for the first time.

Florence felt her skin prickle. The bracelet suddenly seemed heavy against her wrist. Her fingers had curled into their usual position whenever they grew out claws, but their shape remained dull and human. She should have been relieved to see that the presence of silver had worked, but instead near-panic shivered down her spine. For the first time ever, she was grateful for her monstrous instincts.

She looked back up from her hands as Tobias curtly said, "Yes, they did."

"And a wolf always found his mate close to home?" Despite the intrusive questions, Cimorene sounded gentle instead of taunting.

"Yes."

"Then you believe yours died with the rest of your pack."

Florence gasped in outrage over the queen's callousness, but Tobias caught her hand and squeezed it in reassurance even as his gaze remained on the she-wolf. "I don't believe in anything, and that includes the idea of true mates. Nothing pure exists in this city, including love."

The alpha-queen accepted the answer with a nod, but her king's attention flickered back to Florence. "You're seething."

"It was a horribly rude thing to ask him."

A new gleam appeared in Thane's eyes, and in response, Tobias growled, drawing a few startled looks from other tables. The alpha-king didn't react to the warning, instead lazily swirling his scotch again. "If you prefer it, we can ask about your father instead. He's dead as well, isn't he?"

His needling had finally found its mark. It was impossible not to draw in a shallow breath at the mention of her father's passing. Such a small reaction, but one that any wolf would notice and tear at.

Thane did. "I remember hearing it was a house fire. He burned in his own bed."

As soon as Florence flinched, Tobias shot to his feet with a snarl that shattered the air. His eyes looked nearly black as the alpha-king rose to face him. "Get the hell out of here. I'm not afraid to kill you in front of a crowd."

Tobias' name stuck in Florence's throat, but before she could reach for him, the alpha-queen leaned toward her, still calm.

"Peace," murmured Cimorene. "Rosewood let you spar with Thane. Give him that same courtesy."

"He could be killed." Florence glanced around and saw that all the tables had frozen with her, the other patrons staring in horror at the two bristling wolves.

"No. Bloodied, maybe. Thane wants to make a point and nothing more." The words were hardly out of the alpha-queen's mouth when her king finished his drink and loosened his tie, fangs flashing alongside the gleam of his cufflinks. "That's always your problem, Rosewood. You're fearless about the wrong things."

Tobias just snarled again, looking entirely inhuman despite his fine tuxedo.

There was a breath of unbearable tension. Then a glass shattered somewhere beyond their table. Thane and Tobias both turned toward it with the speed of a bite.

Gloria stumbled toward them with the drunken confidence of someone who didn't realize she had opened herself up to a blind attack. The man with her had disappeared.

"Oh, no," whispered Florence, hoping she wasn't about to witness Tobias' neighbor having her throat ripped out.

Both wolves remained frozen as the girl reached the table and grabbed Thane's empty glass. She tried to drink from it and then threw it aside as well. It hit the back of someone's chair, drawing more gasps from around the room. Her mascara marked her cheeks in black tear tracks as she reached for Thane next. "The bastard left because I wouldn't kiss him. But I'll fuck you if you'll take me home."

The alpha-king stared at her for a breath. "Sweetheart, you're asking the wrong fella for pity."

Undeterred, she moved to Cimorene. "What about you? I'm used to women."

"Bargaining with sex isn't the way of wolves." The alpha-queen studied her and added, "The chances in your life are all shriveling away. You won't last long if you keep to this work."

"Gloria," muttered Tobias, gaze still on Thane. "Get out of here."

"Tobias? Thank God. Take me home." The girl's hands fumbled for the lapels of his tuxedo until he finally looked at her. When he tried to pry himself free, her nails dug in instead. "You have a car. Take me home."

The gold had returned to his eyes, but his voice still sounded thick with a growl. "You need to calm down and find whoever you came with."

Florence jumped at the chance to get Tobias and herself away from the alpha-king. She stood to move closer to the girl. "Gloria, where is he? We'll take you to him."

She tried to catch Tobias' gaze, hoping to somehow convey her plan, but Gloria continued to cling at him, voice loud and unsteady. "He left, the old bastard. I can't do it tonight. We live in the same building, Tobias. Drive me there."

"Gloria..."

"Take me home!" she screamed at him. Her voice echoed throughout the room. Even the band had stopped playing.

"Rosewood," said the alpha-king. He had relaxed out of his fighting stance. "One of the waiters is calling the cops. You better get out of here. I'll pay for your meal."

Then he sat beside his queen once more, utterly calm as though he hadn't almost started a bloody fight.

Gloria tugged at Tobias more urgently, but he was still eyeing Thane. "What are you playing at?"

The other wolf scoffed. "I want you out of this pathetic life, but rotting in prison isn't any better. They're interested in catching a big name, and yours is one the city's politicians would love to tout."

"Tobias," murmured Florence, heart constricting for him again.

The fear in her voice drew his gaze to her face. Then his eyes cleared, and after a brief nod, he began walking Gloria away from the table as she dissolved into tears—not toward the main entryway, but where the musicians disappeared during their breaks.

Florence followed close behind, glancing back once to find the Frosthounds casual in their seats and speaking to the maître d, who was wringing his hands. Then the velvet curtain brushed her arm and shoulder, and the darkness behind it hid them all from view.

"Are you all right?" said Tobias, voice hard as it cut through Gloria's crying. The dim corridor to the back exit led them past the kitchen, offering a flash of pristine lights, shouting, and the thick scent of garlic and butter. The music from the band resumed yet sounded muffled and eerie at that distance.

Florence nodded, trying to guide the girl's clumsy steps. "Let's get her to the car before she becomes any louder."

It wasn't easy persuading Gloria to get in. She swatted at Tobias several times before he gave up and told Florence to distract her while he went around to the other side of the car to pull her in.

Florence tried to keep her voice soothing as she asked Gloria what had happened, but the girl managed only a few incoherent words before breaking down into sobs again. She fell limp as well, unresisting as Tobias pulled her into his car.

His roadster only had front seats, so Florence soon found herself patting Gloria's shoulder while the girl clung to her and cried.

"Should we take her somewhere for help?" she murmured to Tobias. "Something horrible must have happened."

Tobias' expression remained grim. "She does this whenever she drinks. Some people can't get used to this line of work but don't want to go back to living in the dregs of the city. They numb themselves instead."

"You don't sound very sympathetic."

He glanced over at Gloria. "Wary is more like it. She's quiet right now. Sometimes, she gets enraged instead."

Florence soon saw what he meant. Although Gloria let herself be guided into the apartment building and then the elevator, docile enough that Florence had time to notice they stepped out on the same floor as Tobias' flat, she wrenched herself free once they got her to the door across from his. "No. I'm not going in."

"It's your apartment," said Tobias. "We brought you home."

"I lost my home a long time ago. He's dead. He's dead!" Then the girl sagged to the floor and gave in to a fresh round of tears.

As the sound of her hysterical voice echoed throughout the hallway, another of the doors opened. A woman peered out enough to study them through the smoke from her cigarette. Her kohl-rimmed eyes looked both annoyed and amused. "Did Gloria get drunk again?"

"Yes. We were both at Demi-Monde," replied Tobias, shortly.

The woman tsked and stepped out to lean against the doorframe and better watch them. "Bad luck for you and your client. Hiya, honey. I'm Candy."

Her last words were directed at Florence, who tried to hide her shock at the other woman's appearance. She was dressed in nothing more than heels, garters, and a corset, and seemed quite unconcerned with showing her bare breasts to them.

"Pleased to meet you," managed Florence.

Candy laughed at her politeness and turned her attention back to Tobias, who was trying the door to Gloria's apartment to see if it was locked. "You're too nice, Tobias. It would've been better to leave her there so we could all have some peace."

Now he eyed the red alligator clutch still twined through Gloria's fingers, as though debating whether to take it from her and search for a key. "The staff would have dumped her out in the street in this state."

Candy shrugged. "Serves her right. She's been here for two years and should know better than to get this drunk. She's booked for a second client tonight, too. He'll be here within the hour."

"Where does she keep her key?" said Tobias, looking over at Candy.

"I haven't a clue. You'll need to call Frankie if you want to get her inside. Either that or babysit her yourself."

"Like hell," he muttered. "What about you? Are you busy tonight?"

"Oh, no, I'm not helping out," said Candy, and finished her cigarette. "The last time I watched over Little Miss Sunshine, she scratched me up like a cat. I was out of work for a week. My advice is to leave her right there on the floor."

Then the woman disappeared back into her apartment. Gloria's sobbing continued.

A line of frustration had appeared between Tobias' eyes. Florence found herself kneeling beside the girl as an idea formed in her mind. "Gloria? Gloria, I think you lost the key to your apartment."

The other girl hiccuped and looked in her direction. "No."

"Are you sure? Someone found a key downstairs. I think it's yours."

"No." Now Gloria sounded annoyed. Her hand fumbled beneath the bustline of her dress and pulled out a key. "This is mine."

Tobias took it from her, ignoring what she called him in response. Florence, however, flushed in anger at hearing him insulted. "Perhaps we should leave her on the floor."

He unlocked the door and then pulled Gloria to her feet without ceremony. The girl spat something else at him but remained standing. He ignored her again. "Let's get her inside. She might calm down then."

She did slightly, pulling free of their guiding hands as they reached the living room. In silence, she stumbled over to a radio bar that looked exactly like the one Tobias had.

In fact, the entire living room seemed to be the same as his, right down to the elegant decor on the shelves and tables. The bas relief murals depicted the myth of Danaë and the shower of gold instead of wolves, yet otherwise Florence might have been standing in his apartment. The effect was slightly dizzying, and she didn't move until Tobias brushed her arm in a silent gesture that it was time to leave.

Unfortunately, their movement caught Gloria's attention. "You're both so stupid," she spat, clumsily opening the cabinets of the bar to reveal several frosted bottles.

"Just go to bed and sleep it off," replied Tobias, one hand already urging Florence back toward the door.

A glass flung past them and broke against the wall. Florence gasped, barely aware of what had happened before Tobias shielded her body with his own.

Gloria's eyes were bright with rage as she threw a bowl of cocktail cherries next, splattering the wall and his tuxedo with thick, red syrup. "You can't tell me what to do. You're just a whore yourself. Doing things that would make any decent fella sick. Steady Tobias, always reliable. Perfect Tobias, always making his clients happy. Thinking you're better because you never refuse even the worst request. At least I had a heart. At least I had someone to love once."

Then her glassy eyes focused on Florence. "And you. What the hell are you looking at? I'm not disgusting. You are."

The girl approached with the opened bottle of gin, pretty face etched with fury. The alcohol poured to the ground, but Gloria didn't seem to notice, instead holding the bottle as if ready to club her with it.

A growl slipped into Tobias' voice as he caught her wrist and pulled the gin from her grip. "I'm out of patience, Gloria."

She just tried to slap him.

Florence started forward, ready to grab the nearest arm, but Tobias shook his head. "Stay back. I don't want her hurting you."

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Gloria's long fingernails ripped along his collar.

At that, he finally turned rough and shoved her away. Gloria stumbled back against the bar, confusion replacing her rage. She grabbed another bottle and drank from it while veering for what Florence guessed was the bedroom.

"Let's go," said Tobias, voice tight.

This time, they left her apartment without interruption. As soon as they stepped out into the hallway, Florence said, "I'm so sorry."

His hard expression didn't change, but his hand felt gentle against hers when he stopped her from brushing the syrup off his tuxedo. "Don't worry about it. Give me a second to change, and then we'll get out of here."

"Of course."

He had just unlocked his door when Gloria's flew open again. Tobias immediately stepped in front of Florence to protect her from whatever Gloria did next. Unfortunately, that left his apartment wide open to the girl, who clutched at a new bottle of gin while stumbling out into the hallway.

"You can both go to hell," she hissed, stalking past them into his apartment. "I'm going to bed."

The door slammed shut behind her. By the time Tobias lunged for it, the lock had already slid home with a definitive rasp.

"Goddamn it," he said, but without any heat in his voice. Instead, he sounded incredibly tired.

Florence didn't know what to say, but the whir of the elevator ruined any attempt, anyway. An older man in a tuxedo stepped out of the lift. With his balding head, short height, and wide smile, he looked quite like a troll from a children's book. His voice sounded much too large for his body. "In a bit of trouble, eh, Tobias? Don't usually see you looking anything less than perfect."

"Gloria," said Tobias, flatly.

"Yes, I was just coming to see her." The man's gaze flickered over Florence, and instinctive revulsion shuddered through her even as his words remained jolly. "Very good of you to look after the girl. You're always reliable, lad."

Tobias didn't look like he enjoyed the man's presence any more than she did. "She locked herself in my place. I'm leaving for the night."

"Of course, of course." The man laughed, showing all his teeth, but seemed unaware of what that meant to a wolf. "Easy enough to do with a beautiful lady at your side. Enjoy yourself, my dear."

Florence nodded uncertainly, unable to glean anything from Tobias' expression. The slight press of his hand at her back was enough to urge her toward the elevator, but she couldn't help glancing back at the metallic chime of keys on a ring. The old man was unlocking the door to Tobias' apartment, which had gone completely quiet.

"Is he the building manager?" she whispered, while they stepped into the elevator.

At that, Tobias looked at her as though fully seeing her for the first time since he had challenged Thane at the restaurant. The grim gleam in his eyes softened into regret. "Let's get you home."

He didn't speak again for the entire drive, and neither did she. The night had taken a bewildering turn, but she felt bad only for him. Was this really what his life was like behind the fantasies he presented to his clients? The thought was gut-wrenching. For some reason, the fact that the apartments were all the same horrified her more than anything. It was where he lived, but he didn't have any say in how it looked, even for something as simple as the books on the coffee table.

Her own home looked unlit except for the lamps needed to guide a way to her bedroom. It seemed Hilda and the others had gone to bed, not expecting her to return at such a late hour. It was improper to let Tobias into her own bedroom, but at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to care. A fire still smoldered in the hearth, the weak flames glimmering off the bottle of morphine meaningfully left on the dressing table. Florence toyed with the little glass bottle to give her fingers something to do. "Would you like some coffee?"

Tobias shook his head, pacing around the room with unusual agitation. He looked angry, shoulders bunching as though he felt trapped in his skin.

She remained by the dressing table, torn on what to say. If she reached out one hand, her fingertips would brush him, and yet somehow a chasm had opened up and separated them. Would it be better to pretend nothing had happened? She didn't think so. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For tonight."

"None of it was your fault." Then he stopped beside the fire and sighed. "In fact, it was better that you stopped me from fighting Frost. I don't know why I lost control like that. I was ready to kill him."

"To be fair, he was goading you in every way possible."

Despite everything, he smiled slightly. "He always does. None of the city packs like it when a lone wolf acts more like a dog. They think it reflects badly on wolfkind. That it puts bad ideas into human heads."

Florence bit her lip. "What he said about the police looking into you... do you think that's true?"

"I'm not worried about it. I've had too many powerful clients to be targeted. You know how it is in this city. Money and connections can cover any vice, and I've made plenty of connections."

In that moment, he sounded as cynical as the Frosthound alpha-king. Yet while Thane's every action held a dark amusement, Tobias simply looked resigned. Then he rubbed the back of his neck before turning the movement into taking off his tie. Some of the tension returned to his movements as he assessed the dried syrup stains on it and then his suit.

Florence found herself saying, "I can clean those for you."

When he gave her a startled glance, she quickly added, "That is, this armoire can. It's magicked. Simply put any dirtied clothes in there and they'll come back out clean. It's antiquated magic but reliable. I've used it many times after a full moon left me disheveled."

He nodded and shrugged off his tuxedo jacket. When he began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, she hurriedly turned away before she lost control and begged him to spend the night in bed with her. "You may use this room to sleep as well. I'll tell Hilda and the others not to disturb you until you're up. Goodnight."

"Florence." He caught her arm, drawing her back until their faces were inches apart. The heat of his gaze stole her breath as he murmured, "First off, I'm not taking your bed from you. Secondly... I'm sorry about tonight. I wanted you to have a good time."

"It's all right. I did." Her attempt at composure frayed further when his hands moved to her waist. They felt strong yet gentle, stroking her through the thin fabric of her dress. She kept her gaze on the hints of stubble on his chin that were beginning to grow from his morning shave, aware that looking into his eyes would leave her dizzy, and added, "I'm just sorry that it all went sour for you."

"Not all of it." His nose nuzzled hers, as though he tried to coax her into looking up at him. "But you need to know something. After tonight, I'll be too busy to see you for a while. If you want to give in to your curiosity about me, now's the time."

In other words, Louise's money had run out. Reality would return with daylight. Florence closed her eyes as they started to burn. Being in his presence truly did feel like basking in the sun. His absence would leave her in her old, dark existence. Would one night of bliss soften the blow?

Even if it could, she instead found herself thinking back over the evening. The Frosthounds eviscerating his past and pulling out the most painful parts. Gloria screaming insults at him. All that plus having to uphold his role with her if she decided to sleep with him.

It left her feeling unusually confident as she opened her eyes again. "I understand. I hope you have a good night's rest."

Disbelief sparked in his expression. "Your scent is seething with desire."

"I'm sure it is, but..." Then she drew in a deep breath. "I've been very honest all night, so I'll continue to be. I care for you. It was shocking to see how others treated you, and I refuse to add to that by demanding you to—to please me. I don't care that you expect it as part of your work."

He didn't look relieved like she expected. If anything, he seemed frustrated. "I know you're used to denying yourself whatever you want, but don't assume that hurting yourself will also help me. Or that I'd appreciate the gesture. If anything, I'm going to challenge it."

She laughed a little. "We're both very stubborn, aren't we?"

He nodded, studying her intently.

"Truly, I'd rather you use the rest of the night to get a little peace from all the horrible people you know."

"You better not include yourself among them," he said at last, still reluctant. As he pulled off his shirt, he added, "And I'm still not kicking you out of your bed. It's a mild night. I'll sleep outside in my fur."

"Here," she said, gathering the jacket of his tuxedo. "I can at least make sure your clothes are ready in the morning."

He shook his head but handed over his shirt. The cherry juice had stained through to his undershirt, and he pulled it off as well, leaving Florence with the view of his strong, chiseled body. Hair dusted his chest, drawing her gaze down the muscled planes of his stomach as she took the other article of clothing from him, heart pounding.

Then he turned enough to check the time on the mantel clock, and her lust vanished beneath horror. "Oh, that little cat!"

He looked back at her in surprise as she dropped the clothes, reaching for the bloody scratches on the side of his neck.

"Gloria caught me after all, huh?" he said, sounding undisturbed.

"How could she do this? You were helping her."

"Alcohol does that to some people." Even though the lines of his shoulders remained relaxed, fresh blood welled up from the deepest scratch.

Without thinking, she leaned in and licked at it, trying to soothe the angry flesh. The tang of iron spread along her tongue as the strong muscles beneath her mouth contracted. Her instincts refused to back down to human propriety, and she just licked the scratches again, feeling him lean into the sensation. Then his mouth found her own shoulder, tasting at the sensitive skin there until she broke off with a gasp. In the next moment, his hand caught her chin and turned her face into his for a scorching kiss, his tongue licking the traces of blood from her own.

By the time he pinned her down on the bed, his eyes were almost black with—lust? Aggression? Whatever it was, she felt it as well, gazing at him without fear, shifting her legs only in the hopes of shrugging her dress up so he could access her.

"I just said I didn't want this," she murmured.

His growl sounded more like a purr as his hand skimmed up her thigh, pushing up the glimmering fabric. "But you do. Why did you think lying would help me?"

Her hand jumped to his. She didn't know whether she wanted to push it away or between her legs. "I wasn't exactly lying. I truly care for you and meant what I said despite also wanting..."

"Me to fuck you?" he suggested, fingers now finding the bare skin of her hip.

The light touch felt intoxicating, but she managed to gasp, "Yes. Not out of duty, anyway. I couldn't stand the idea of you having to tolerate me after everything else tonight."

At that, he laughed. "Duty? Florence, move your hand a little."

She didn't have to ask where. Her fingers cautiously slipped over to the hard muscles of his lower stomach and then the fine wool of his trousers. The bulge there could only be called impressive. "Oh."

"Does that feel like I'm reluctant?"

"No." Her legs opened wider. "But if you're just doing this because my cousin paid you..."

"I'm doing this because I want to. I've been wondering what you taste like since the moment you challenged me like a wolf. Telling me to go to hell with a flash of your eyes."

For a moment, she could only pant against his mouth. Did she dare? Did she really?

Then he said, "Have I ever lied to you about what I think and feel?"

"No," she murmured, remembering how quickly he'd told her what he was, and his blunt warning about mistrusting the idea of love. "You're very honest."

"Then trust me this much. I'm not tolerating you as a client. I'm craving you like a wolf. You're the one bright thing about tonight."

What danger would she put herself in by saying yes? Some part of her would be irrevocably changed, yet would that cause any harm? Words slipped out of her, spoken out loud to make them real. "You don't believe in love, and I would never burden someone with my curse. But this is a chance for us both to escape from our lives."

He nodded. "Doesn't seem like there's a problem, does it?"

"No. No, not at all." Then, unable to keep the awe from her voice, she added, "All of that will fit inside me?"

The gold of his eyes had returned, gleaming with playfulness. "I'll help you along. But if you want to hold back on that, there are other things we can do."

"All right." She relaxed, feeling clear in her heart. Lust still throbbed in it, but so did something richer, something she couldn't name but that still guided her like a compass.

As his fingers pushed her dress up past her hips, exposing her, she shivered and impulsively murmured, "I really do trust you."

"I know." He kissed her throat, teeth grazing her skin. "And I won't break it."

She arched into the promise as much as the heat of his mouth, gasping softly as his hand slid over her thigh to brush between her legs. There had been times when she had touched herself, always late at night when no one could catch her misdeed, guilt from seeking out pleasure mingling with the desperate need for any sort of release. The thrill would always be short and quick, nothing more than her fingers pushing between her lower lips to rub that hidden, sensitive spot until her body throbbed in a few seconds of bliss.

This felt entirely different. After being exposed to the cool air of the room, the exquisite heat of his touch shocked her when his fingers traced the seam of her lower lips, pushing in just enough to reach her inner folds. Raw need surged through her while her hips moved on instinct, trying to urge him to—to what? She couldn't articulate it. She couldn't even speak, instead deliciously caught between the slow rhythm of his hand and the prick of his fangs against her pulse while he sucked along her neck.

When his thumb pushed in and found that sensitive spot, she nearly cried out, hands jumping from the bed to the hard lines of his shoulders. He growled softly in response, thumb moving in slow circles. As she clung to him, her hips began rocking in time with his hand, clumsy yet eager. Anticipation seared each breath.

His mouth moved from her throat to her ear, licking along its curve. The roughness in his voice nearly undid her. "Excited?"

Beyond words, she could only whine in assent, thighs shaking with the need for more.

"Good." His fingers stopped rubbing and pinched instead.

White-hot release blinded her to everything except him. Even her cry sounded dim in her ears. There was only his strong arm between her clenched thighs and his calm, sure weight against her own writhing body.

Then the tone of his voice changed. "You always smell like your roses."

Before she could manage an answer, he caught her by the underside of her jaw and turned her face to his for a long, hard kiss, tongue tasting every inch of her mouth. When he broke off, she panted, still clinging to him in a daze until he pulled her dress down past her shoulders. The fabric felt as cool and insubstantial as water as it slid from her body—another delicious feeling. She raised her hips to get it off the rest of the way and saw a gleam of primal hunger appear in those amazing gold eyes.

Her breath fell shallow. He truly seemed to want her. Fresh warmth shimmered through her, softer than the unthinking greed behind her release, as she watched him undress the rest of the way. He looked stunning, the firelight flickering over his strong muscles and disheveled hair. There was a confidence to his movements that only wolves had while he positioned himself between her legs, hands stroking along her thighs. His hard shaft brushed against her throbbing lower lips, drawing a shuddering breath from her, but she remained caught by the heat in his eyes. Gone were the smooth manners and fine suit of a gentleman; instead, there were only the fierce hunger and sharp fangs of a wolf.

Then he bent enough to lick at her swollen cleft. The press of his tongue made her gasp, its sweet heat chasing away the last of her uncertainties when it slipped inside. Fresh lust filled her, somehow even stronger than before.

"It can already happen again?" she managed.

Despite her incoherent words, he understood what she meant. "You mean, having another orgasm? Sure."

"How many times?" The first one had already left her as limp as a rag doll.

He gave her a wicked grin. "Until I decide to stop."

Then his attention returned to her body, chasing off any other thought. Any embarrassment she might have felt over being so intimately explored quickly disappeared against the heat of his mouth. Her thighs tightened against his grip in sheer instinct of keeping him close, and the fact that his hands remained so strong and unyielding further heightened the softness of his tongue. Could something that felt this good be good for her? The wildness rushing through her veins felt dangerous, and yet she didn't want him to stop.

She moaned like an animal in heat, voice soft and high. When he found a spot that made her arch in fresh need, he growled in amusement. The primal sound rumbling between her thighs broke the last of her restraint, and she scratched at the sheets and then at herself until he nipped at one of her swollen folds, shocking her still again.

"Hold onto my arms," he murmured, still amused. "You won't hurt me."

She did, her bracelet gleaming with the same brightness of his eyes as his mouth returned to its wicked movements. Then his teeth grazed the most sensitive part of her flesh, stoking its throbbing into something blinding.

Heat crested through her. She arched, muscles contracting as though there was a full moon, and yet it wasn't pain or torment that filled her mind. Sweet excitement, seething bliss. Nothing came out of her mouth except for frantic panting. Even her thoughts had been overwhelmed by pleasure.

Heartbeats passed before she returned to herself. Her thighs trembled. Just as the ecstatic feeling began to fade, warm fingers traced along her slick folds, and that indescribable heat flared once more. Then they pressed in, careful yet confident.

She was wet and swollen, eager to feel such ecstasy again, but her body tightened when one finger went deeper than the others, shocked by the sensation of being stretched open. Shocked at how intimate the pressure felt. Her attempt to remain calm vanished when he next tried with two fingers and pain joined the pressure.

"Oh." She jerked at the discomfort, but he had already pulled out again, shaking his head slightly.

Nerves rippled through her as she looked at his erect shaft. How was she supposed to take something of that size without being split in half? Yet she didn't wish to stop. She wouldn't stop.

She caught his hand, trying to guide it back. "Please, it's all right."

Instead, his fingers twined with hers. In the dim lighting, his eyes looked gentle. "You're scared, and that'll make it harder on you. Let me tease you a little more, get you to relax, and then we'll try again."

"But..." A sense of panic rose within her. Good God, if nothing else, she couldn't ruin this night. "You can take me as I am right now, can't you?"

"It would hurt. You'll probably be sore after your first time no matter what, but there's no need to make it worse by taking you too soon."

"I don't care about pain. It can't be any worse than what I feel on a full moon."

"Florence..."

"I can do this," she insisted, dimly aware of her voice trembling. "We can have a normal night. I can behave like any other woman. Like a normal woman."

Her face felt so flushed that she didn't realize there were tears running down her cheeks until he wiped them away.

With a sigh, he sat up and pulled her with him, cradling her close while she fought not to cry any further.

His voice brushed her ear with the same tenderness as his hands stroking along her back. "There's nothing wrong with you. You've just never been with a fella before. And before you start berating yourself in your head, you didn't ruin anything. I stopped because I'm not going to fuck you while you're crying, Florence."

"But I don't want to end the night this way."

"It won't. Believe me, we're not done." Then he began kissing her again, slow and soothing.

Eventually, she calmed down again, reassured by the restrained hunger in his touch. Irresistible sensations warmed her body once more, especially with the way he sucked on her neck, but she still had enough thought to shyly look down at his shaft. She reached for it with tentative fingers, marveling at how the head felt as soft as velvet. When her hand stroked down, she felt the strength as well.

His hands slid back to her hips, working her into a rhythm that she began to mimic on her own. As they moved together, his erect shaft rubbed against her cleft, its weight especially sweet against the sensitive area that his fingers had found and stoked into reckless abandon. She felt that same tight anticipation form between her thighs as she relaxed into the strong hands holding her close, into the gentle mouth teasing along her neck. Her own hands delighted in the strength of his shoulders and in the thick hair at the back of his head.

Her blood rushed as dizzyingly as whenever the full moon held its sway, and yet her body felt so free and light, shimmering with each kiss he gave to her throat, chest, and ribs.

When he spoke, he sounded rougher than usual. "Better stop for a moment. I'm about to lose control."

Even in her haze, she understood what he meant. She was inexperienced but still knew enough from Louise about what happened when a man had his orgasm. If he didn't finish in her, he would finish all over her instead. The idea made her thighs tighten against him. "Keep going. Please."

Lust had warmed his eyes to the color of honey. "Are you sure?"

Their mouths brushed before she replied, "I know what will happen and I want that. Please."

After a moment, he nodded and caught her mouth in a long, smoldering kiss, their hips working together once more. Then he broke off to growl against her neck, his rhythm slowing into a few hard, fierce pumps. The heat of his seed surprised her, and she gasped to feel it on her stomach and ribs. Even her breasts were striped with it. She shifted enough to look down at her painted skin. Should she feel dirty and ashamed? It seemed impossible. If anything, she loved the idea of being marked by his scent, and in the most primal way possible.

Once more, her base urges overwhelmed all doubt, and she nuzzled at his jaw like a wolf. Like one lover to another. "Thank you."

A sweet pang rippled through her heart when he tucked her head into the hollow of his throat in return. Then he laughed, still holding her close. "Thank you. I've been wanting to do that since the day we met."