Chapter 3

RILEY

Fuck, my head’s pounding. All I could focus on was the hammering pain in the back of my skull as I forced my eyes open, barely able to make out the dim room around me.

“You’re finally awake.”

The gruff voice yanked me up, and I regretted it instantly, hissing at the pain that ripped through my stomach and neck. My hand went to my throat, fingers grazing cold metal. A goddamn chain. I glared up at the guy sprawled out on the couch, legs spread like he was watching his favorite show.

“You chained me.” The words came out low, almost a growl, and I jerked my neck forward, the chain biting into my skin. “You fucking chained me.”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well, seeing as you broke into my house and damn near choked me to death… figured it was in my best interest to keep you like that. Just in case you decided to go… wild again.”

I stared him down for a second, maybe two, before slumping back onto the tiny bed. My gaze drifted to the bandage on my abdomen, the wound neatly wrapped, and I noticed a faded black pair of jeans slung low on my hips.

I snapped my eyes back to the man, still watching me with those sharp blue eyes, a hand resting on his bearded chin. “You… patched me up?” My voice dropped to a whisper. “And dressed me?”

He shrugged, casual as hell. “Yeah, well, wasn’t about to let you bleed out on my floor—even if you did attack me.” His eyes narrowed as he said it, like he was reminding himself why he shouldn’t have helped. “And trust me, it was a pain in the ass cleaning your blood off my floor. Plus, you kept tossing around, the blanket I threw over you slipping off, and I didn’t want to keep getting an eyeful of your junk.” He shuddered, then stood up, cracking open a can of beer.

“So, what are you going to do with me?” I asked, wincing as I shifted slightly.

He walked into another room, came back with another beer, and popped it open. He eyed me over the rim of the can, taking his time with his answer. “Nothing,” he finally replied, settling back onto the couch with a casual shrug. “Once I get the landline working again, you’ll be out of my hair and into the custody of the cops.”

I clenched my jaw, barely keeping the snarl in check. “Can’t you just let me go? You’ll never see me again.” And I meant it. I was running from my pack, and even though I was out in the middle of nowhere, I knew damn well they’d hunt me down.

He shook his head, not even entertaining the idea. Taking another swig from his beer, he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his worn flannel shirt.

“Nope. Not a chance.” His gaze narrowed, pinning me in place. “Look, kid, you look like trouble. And you’ve probably brought it to my doorstep. I’d prefer to keep myself as far from trouble as humanly possible, so…” He let the sentence hang, his intense stare drilling into me, making it clear he wasn’t about to bend.

He leaned forward, his expression hardening. “Who are you, and how’d you end up in my house?”

I wiped the sweat from my face, feeling the lie coil at the back of my throat. I couldn’t tell him who—no, what—I was. I swallowed, focusing on a scratch on the worn wood floor.

“My name’s Riley.” I met his stare, watching his eyes narrow, waiting for more. I couldn’t tell him I was the wolf he’d found on the road. He’d think I was crazy, or worse, believe me and put me down like some rabid animal.

“I didn’t mean to end up here. I—I was being chased. Through the woods.” It wasn’t a lie. He frowned, fingers dragging over the rough stubble on his chin.

“Chased? By who?”

I scoffed. “Not a who. I was chased by wolves.” His eyes went wide, and I couldn’t tell if he believed me or thought I’d lost it.

“Wolves?” He asked, his expression giving nothing away other than shock and confusion.

“I was out with some friends in the woods," I began, forcing my voice to sound hesitant, like I was still piecing together the story. "It was supposed to be fun, but then… well, they thought it’d be hilarious to tie me to a tree and leave me there.” I ducked my head, feigning embarrassment, trying to look as sympathetic as possible. It was a lie—a blatant one—but it was the best cover I could think of.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t seem convinced, his gaze sharp, analyzing every word.

“Then this huge pack of wolves came,” I continued, fidgeting as I tried to keep my voice steady. “They started chasing me through the woods, and I swear I thought I was going to die. But then I saw your car pulling up in the middle of the road. You were picking up that black… uh… dog, so I climbed into the back of your trunk and hoped you’d just keep driving.”

He arched a brow, unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a skeptical smirk. “So let me get this straight. You broke into my house, tried to stitch yourself up, and then attempted to strangle me?” His voice held a mocking tone, like he was trying hard not to laugh in my face. “Quite the story.”

My jaw clenched. I glared at him, wiping away a bead of sweat trickling down my temple. “Yeah, well, I fucking panicked,” I shot back, shifting uncomfortably. My body was aching, my head throbbing with the dull heat I could feel spreading through my skin.

As I scanned the room again, a brown dog trotted over and sat beside the bed, staring up at me with keen, curious eyes. “You think I’m lying?” I muttered, throwing the man a challenging look.

He shrugged, clearly unfazed. “I might believe the part about wolves chasing you. You do have some pretty nasty claw marks, after all,” he admitted, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “But the ‘friends leaving you in the woods’ bit? Not buying it.”

I cursed under my breath, the heat crawling up my neck as his dog came closer, sniffing around my hand. “Tell your dog to back off,” I muttered, pulling my hand away as it nosed around me.

The man only raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Well, considering you’re lying in his bed, I’d say Scout’s got every right to be curious.”

Before I could respond, the dog shifted and tried to climb onto me, nuzzling insistently, pressing its weight against my leg. “Your dog is—ugh—humping me!” I barked, shoving the dog off and swiping at the sweat beading on my forehead. My whole body felt overheated, like I was standing too close to a blazing fire. “And why is it so damn hot in here?”

He finally called the dog away, giving it a pat on the head before his gaze landed back on me, curious but cautious.

With a sigh, he stepped forward, reaching out like he was about to check my temperature. I jerked back, but his hand was already on my forehead. The coolness of his skin felt like a brand against mine, scorching, and I shivered as a fresh wave of heat rolled through me.

“Shit. You’re burning up,” he muttered, his brows knitting together. “You’ve definitely got a fever.”

I shot a wary glance at the window, feeling as panic began to claw its way up my throat. This wasn’t an ordinary fever, I knew what this was, and it was the last thing I needed right now.

This was my heat.