Embracing the Wolf
Felicity Heaton
Chapter 1
Four years.
Four years ago, she had fled her home. Four years ago, she had run away from him and her feelings.
Those four years had not erased him from her memory. She still recalled the heat of his touch and the tender brush of his lips against her skin.
Amon.
Kat ghosted her hands over her bare arms, over flesh chilled by winter night. As she thought of him, her hands became the intimate, loving caress of Amon's. The memory weakened her and stirred desire to return to him. She cursed, breaking the silence of the cemetery. It was impossible to escape her feelings and her intense craving for him. No matter how far she ran.
She stood on the stone sarcophagus in the centre of the cemetery, a breeze washing her skin. Inky darkness stretched in front of her. Bright moonlight-cast shadows stretched long from the trees, swallowing the graves that edged the crammed lot. Silence became a comforting shroud over the Earth.
Her target lay dead below her. One less werewolf in the world. In human form again and naked, his body was bloodied and beaten from their fight. Lifeless eyes stared up at the moon, as though that goddess could still answer the prayers of her child.
The recovery unit were coming to take the body away. Kat hated having to wait for them. With the hunt over, she had nothing to occupy her mind. Her purposelessness ate at her, opening up a hollow feeling inside her. It attacked the carefully constructed barriers around her heart and brought thoughts of Amon.
Kat's gaze rose to the moon. She sought the calm it normally inspired in her. Her black pistols weighed heavily at her sides tonight, their silver load dragging her insides down and turning her stomach to lead.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
The beast stirred in the depths of her heart and snarled for freedom.
Amon had warned her that it would once she had matured. Back then, she hadn't believed him. She had run.
The idea of housing a werewolf in her body had frightened her. When her beast had risen, it had redefined the word ‘frightened'. Kat had been so scared that she had almost run back to Amon. He had been right. Her blood was werewolf, just as his was, but that didn't mean that she was going to let it control her. She would never change.
She was not an animal.
And she would not surrender to it. Every day of her life, Kat fought it and hid her dirty secret. Every day of her life, she hunted her kin.
Kat had joined the Werewolf Control Forces after they had rescued her from an attack in which a friend of hers had died. The commander of the group had taken pity on her and had offered to train her so she could have her revenge. She had gladly taken the opportunity.
Back then, Kat had not known what tainted blood ran in her veins.
When she had reached the level of hunter, she had met Amon. He had come to her unit and reported a rogue werewolf within his pack. Even though Kat had known what Amon was, she hadn't been able to stop her feelings for him. He was everything good and, over time, she had come to see that not all werewolves were out to kill humans. It was only then that she had discovered she carried werewolf blood in her veins.
If she had known about the genes she had inherited from her parents before she had joined the Werewolf Control Forces, she still would have gone through with it. Eliminating the rogue werewolves, those that had turned dangerous and had made it onto the WCF's lists, gave her purpose.
When she had found out about her blood, her job had given her something more too. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction. She hated her kind more than ever. She hated the blood that ran in her veins. She hated that she had never known, and that her foster parents had never told her. She hated her dead parents.
Now she hunted those her of her kin that had turned dangerous, those that had become lost in darkness and the violence that the beast inside called for.
She killed others too, werewolves that were not on the list.
Anyone that Amon sent after her met with a silver bullet.
The beast inside her rose again. She forced it to heel. It fought back and she took deep calming breaths until the hunger to change had passed. Her hand trembled against her chest. It was growing stronger and harder to control, but there was not a chance in hell that she would let it take over.
A large black van crawled along the winding gravel road of the cemetery. Stones crunched under the fat tyres. She gestured to it and then hopped down from the tomb.
Her gaze fell to the dead werewolf.
Amon would be angry.
Tonight, it had been one from his pack. Amon was close to finding her. Or was she close to finding him? Her unit moved every four weeks. A few months ago, she had realised that her and Amon were gradually moving towards each other. Every new town brought them one step closer to meeting again and she could not bring herself to make the unit change its schedule.
Not when she was so close.
Every inch of her craved the fire of Amon's touch. Every night she had dreamed of him, reliving each sensual and erotic moment of their time together. Those dreams had now turned to nightmares. And in those nightmares there was nothing but pain—agonising, searing pain—that woke her bathed in cold sweat and shaking.
What did they mean?
Her heart said that she knew the answer to that question.
The sound of the van pulling to a halt snapped her out of her thoughts. Three men dressed in the standard black fatigues of her unit hopped down from the back. They grabbed the werewolf and hauled it into the van as though it was meat at a market.
The commander offered her a lift. Kat waved him away and watched the van leave.
The graveyard fell quiet again. The silence was comforting. Out here in the dark night, she could forget the horror of her dreams and the words they whispered.
Kat turned slowly to regard the man stood barely fifteen foot from her. Leyton. It had taken him longer to arrive than expected. The grim set of his face said the dead werewolf was not the only reason for his visit.
"Amon is in pain, isn't he?” she whispered, afraid to raise her voice and acknowledge that Leyton was really there. He looked exactly as she remembered him, but then werewolves didn't age once they had matured.
Amon had sent him on purpose.
Leyton was like a brother to her.
A solemn nod was Leyton's answer. Long pale fingers pushed through his sandy waves of hair, clawing it back in a movement of sheer frustration and helplessness. His hair fell back down when his hand had passed, brushing his forehead.
"He needs you, Kat.” The deep voice didn't suit his tall slight figure. Neither did the black jeans and dark zip up jacket. She was used to seeing him in smarter attire. Blue eyes held hers, bright in the moonlight.
Kat knew what those words meant.
Leyton took a step towards her.
When werewolves reached maturity, the need to find their mate would arise. Once it had awoken, they only had a few years to complete the mating or they became feral and dangerous. The longest recorded time between the mating awakening and being completed safely was five years. Four years ago, Amon had told her that she was his mate. That night, she had fled. By now, he would be verging on dangerous. If he turned then she would have to kill him.
As much as Kat feared that thought, the alternative frightened her more. To become his mate she would have to accept what she was and change. She couldn't do it. The idea of becoming an animal, a hybrid being, turned her blood to ice.
"He knows that he scared you,” Leyton said in a coaxing whisper, calm and measured. “He was only being honest that night. You're his mate, Kat. Without you he'll—"
"Don't!” Kat cut him off with a glare. Leyton didn't need to tell her what would happen. She dealt with rogue werewolves on a nightly basis. She saw the dark, violent creature he would become. She closed her eyes and told herself that it would not happen to Amon. Leyton was only trying to scare her.
The trouble was he was succeeding.
"Will you see him?"
Kat looked into Leyton's eyes.
There was hope in their depths. Meet Amon?
She couldn't.
Every inch of her rebelled at the thought. It would be dangerous. Not because he could be close to turning, but because if she saw him, she might lose her nerve and return to him.
She longed to feel his warm fingers stroking her skin, caressing her in a way that spoke so deeply of his love. She ached to have his soft lips sliding against hers. She craved the way it felt to be in his arms, comforted and safe from the world as she breathed in his spicy scent.
Her eyes closed. She couldn't do it.
"You must feel it,” Leyton continued with a desperate note in his voice. Clearly he had realised that she needed convincing. If anyone could do it, he could. Leyton was Amon's beta wolf and she had grown close to him during her time with Amon. She trusted him. He knew that and it seemed he was going to use it against her. “You must sense the looming danger."
Kat lowered her head and turned it away. She stared blindly at the grass. She did feel it. As a potential mate for Amon and someone who shared a love bond with him, Kat felt his pain as though it were her own.
It ripped her apart each day.
"Will you see him?” Leyton repeated, firmer this time. His tone demanded an answer. He stepped towards her, until she felt his presence close to her back. “Just see him, that is all I'm asking. It will soothe him. He will not hurt you."
Kat's stomach turned. Was Amon that far gone? Icy fingers squeezed her heart. She couldn't bear the thought that he might become dangerous and make it onto her unit's list. The idea of having to hunt him turned her stomach, but her only other option was to give in to the werewolf inside.
"No,” she whispered, unable to say that word with conviction when her heart begged her to go to Amon.
Leyton stepped closer. Her senses detected the aura of worry surrounding him. Leyton never worried, not even about Amon. It confirmed her worst fear. Amon was growing close to turning.
"I promise you, Kat, he will not know that you are there. Just see him and then make up your mind. The next time you meet, do whatever your heart decides. Save him or kill him."
"Perhaps killing him would be saving him,” she muttered to her feet and focussed on the bloodied grass. He wouldn't know she was there? She could see him, could reassure herself and ease her fears, and he would never know she had been there. The temptation was almost overwhelming.
Silence stretched into minutes as she waged an internal war—her heart against her mind. She ached to see Amon, but the price was too high. If she went, she might not be able to contain the beast within. If she didn't go, the next time she saw Amon he might be her target. A vision of Amon lying dead at her feet as the werewolf had been tonight flashed across her eyes. Her heart won.
"He won't know I'm there?” Kat looked at Leyton and searched his face for the truth behind his answer. The craving was too strong to ignore but she had to be sure that Amon wouldn't sense her. Once she had seen him again, she would make a final decision just as Leyton had asked.
"I promise you that he won't."
Those words weren't a comfort. Would Amon not know that she was there because he was so far gone already, so close to the edge? Werewolves became deranged violent creatures when the beast took over. Their bloodlust nightmarish. She had seen them tear humans apart for fun or nothing more than sating their aggression.
She hesitated a moment, still not sure this was a wise idea, and then pointed towards the cemetery gates. “Lead the way."
Leyton took her to an area deep in the city outskirts and far from the residential streets. Desolate red-brick factory buildings towered over her. Their tall windows were made of rectangular panes that were either smashed or coated by an impenetrable layer of grime. Winter wind whistled through them, a haunting symphony. The moon drained their colour. There was sadness about this place that left her feeling more lonely and cold than the cemetery had done.
Kat walked in silence. Her right hand rested on one of her pistols. The feel of it soothed her raw nerves. Her steady heart beat a little quicker when Leyton brought her to the end of a small dark alley. He opened a door.
Amon was in one of these dead buildings.
She had thought they were only passing through this area into one less bleak.
"We cannot move him again,” Leyton said in a casual tone, as though he was making small talk about the weather rather than his alpha.
A glance into his eyes revealed that there was nothing casual about those words. The pain in their depths spoke to her heart. They silently begged her to give Amon a reprieve and accept the beast inside her so she could be the one to save him from a fate worse than death. Kat turned away and forced herself to scan the interior of the old factory. A good hunter knew every entry and exit. If Amon was close to turning, she might need them. Sometimes it was better to run than fight.
Leyton led the way. She followed close behind, memorising the maze of metal walkways above her and the old dust covered machinery. They entered a bright white-washed and distinctly clinical-looking room, leaving the darkness and grime behind. The lights stung her eyes. They had to hurt Leyton's too. Her fingers flexed around her gun when she sensed movement. They weren't alone.
Three huge male werewolves in human form stood before her. In large hands made for killing, each gripped a black rifle that looked like the type used for tranquilising wild animals. The males stepped forwards, their broad black-clad bodies a dark menacing contrast to the white room.
They didn't bother her.
What they protected did.
The werewolves partially blocked her view, but she could see enough to make her ache with sorrow.
A steel cage stood in the middle of the room. Its bars were as thick as her wrists. Inch deep glass surrounded it on all sides. Nothing but the cage reflected on the far wall of the glass. It was mirrored. They had surrounded him with mirrors and steel.
Kat glanced at Leyton. He had been right. Amon wouldn't see her.
"It is sound-proofed,” Leyton said in a voice at normal volume, as though to prove the fact.
Her gaze settled on the cage.
Amon would never know that she had been here for him, with him. Her eyebrows furrowed and she stepped through the group of four werewolves, not paying them any heed. Immense sadness seized her heart.
Amon paced back and forth across the small width of his prison. Shirtless and shoeless, he wore nothing but black jeans. He looked exactly as she remembered him but she sensed a difference. A longing to free him warred with a desire to flee again. She stood still, frozen to the spot by indecision and a need to witness what she had done to the man that she had once loved.
Still loved.
"It's a necessary precaution,” Leyton said close beside her. She looked up into his eyes, silently asking him if he honestly believed that and if he was alright with it. He looked away, at Amon. “He no longer trusts himself."
Her gaze returned to Amon, drawn by the waves of pain that emanated from him, both physical and emotional.
"Leave us,” Leyton said and heavy boots marched into the distance. The guards were gone.
Kat walked forwards, until she was within a metre of the cubicle. Her gaze followed Amon, back and forth, back and forth, relentless in his pacing. Tears trembled on the brink of falling as she remembered all the times that she had spent with him.
The handsome smile and twinkling eyes full of love that she recalled were gone. The set of his face was grim now, eyebrows knitted into a constant frown. His black hair had grown wild, hanging to his jaw in tangled threads. The hard muscles of his broad chest were covered in claw marks.
Had he been tearing at himself? It pained her to see him, to sense him so close but so far away. Her hand trembled where it still held her holstered gun. Her other rose shakily towards the glass.
"Amon,” she whispered, quiet enough that Leyton wouldn't hear her. Amon turned and raised his head, but didn't look at her.
Her heart broke to see his beautiful dark eyes and bowed lips. There was nothing soft or tender about them now. His eyes held pain. His lips were compressed into a thin line of restraint.
"Are you alright?” Leyton said in a low voice. It wasn't so Amon wouldn't hear them. Leyton was worried about her now too.
"I never knew he was in such a state,” she whispered and glanced at Leyton before her eyes darted back to Amon.
She pressed her hand against the glass, wishing that she could touch him, wishing that she were brave enough to let him know that she was here.
Amon stopped in the middle of the cage. Suddenly, he arched his back, threw his arms out by his sides, tensed and shaking, and howled at the roof.
Her heart jumped and pounded in response to the intense vulnerability in his howl and his pained expression. The call to her was clear, speaking his need of her. Something powerful inside her responded.
Panic filled her, a riot of conflict and fear. She fought her beast as she backed away from the cage. She couldn't bear it anymore. Tears stung her eyes. She ran, shoving Leyton away as he moved into her path. She had been stupid to come. She had known deep in her heart that if she saw Amon, she would feel the incredible pull to him that she always had.
She bolted from the factory, fleeing him again, and didn't stop running until she had reached her apartment. Flinging the door shut behind her, she went straight to her bathroom and splashed cold water on her face to mask her tears.
After a moment, she raised her head and stared at her dripping wet reflection in the mirror on the cabinet above the sink. The water had erased her tears but had done nothing to remove the feelings colliding inside her.
"Stupid,” she said to herself, frowning so hard her dark eyebrows almost met. Redness marred her deep brown eyes, a sign of the tears that she had washed away.
When she closed her eyes, the image of Amon pacing the small cage filled her mind. Her heart clenched all over again. He'd howled with so much pain that she had felt it.
Amon was close to turning.
Her gaze fell to her guns.
She didn't have much time to make her decision.
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Chapter 2
Kat arched off the bed. Her bare body pressed against the warm hard wall of his. He pushed down against her hip, his rigid shaft scalding her thigh. Teasing fingers trailed lightly over her skin, caressing and leaving flames in their wake that licked at her senses. Shivers of hot needles swept across her flesh, igniting delight wherever they travelled, affecting her right down to her marrow.
His fingertips dragged the fire around her breasts, a path that smouldered long after the caress had gone, working in circles until they brushed her taut nipples. Moaning, she thrust her breasts up, eager to feel the touch again. He took the pert bud between skilled fingertips and lightly squeezed, sending another tremble of desire through her and causing her breasts to tighten.
Kat sighed her approval and then frowned when he moved away, heading lower. Her body begged for more than the barely-there touch. She needed to feel his strength and passion. She wanted him to be rough with her, not torture her with this gentle exploration. Her arm covered her eyes as hot fingers travelled lower, teasing her stomach and encircling her navel. She arched into him again, pushing her pelvis against his, and groaned.
"Amon,” she whispered, heated and hungry.
A deep chuckle filled her ears, making her quiver as she imagined what he would look like. Leaning over her. His body poised and tensed. The long black threads of his hair brushing his cheeks. His rich brown eyes intent on her, his focus wholly on her pleasure.
His touch disappeared, leaving her cold, and instead of the relief that she had expected, he increased her torture. His mouth fiercely claimed her right nipple, rolling the hard bead between his teeth. His hand closed over her other breast. She tensed and shuddered with need as his weight bore down on her, pressing her deep into the mattress, and silently pleaded him to quench her thirst to have him inside her.
Another moan escaped her when he moved downwards, worshipping every subtle plane of her body with the soft velvet stroke of his tongue and lips. Stoking the fire inside her until it was beyond her control. Desire took the reins and she writhed against him. She couldn't take any more.
Her eyes rolled back in her head when he licked her hip and then her stomach, moving slowly towards where she needed him most. Just a little farther. She groaned and removed her arm from her eyes to scowl at him when he moved away again, kissing up towards her breasts. Tease.
Her volley of abuse was lost before it could reach her lips when he grabbed her. Her arms were above her head before she could say a word. Long fingers tightly enclosed both of her wrists. Her heart hammered when she met his eyes. Wicked hunger filled them, black and violent, commanding. With a half smile, she faked a struggle, wanting to feel his strength and know that she was at his mercy. He had always played this way with her, willing to dominate her if she wanted it.
She wanted it alright.
Amon growled and tightened his grip on her wrists until they hurt. Kat surrendered herself to him as his mouth claimed hers. His tongue delved between her lips, hot and probing, its sensual glide tearing a moan from her throat.
Their teeth clashed as he pushed down against her, trapping her beneath him in the most delicious way. She relaxed, intoxicated by his sheer primal strength and his desire for her. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue brushing every part of it with fierce attention as though her taste was a drug and he was addicted. No part of her mouth was left untouched—her teeth, gums, cheeks, everywhere. She stroked his tongue with hers, savouring his taste as though it might be her last.
When her tongue traced his lips, his murmured his approval into her mouth and drew back. She licked them again, memorising the soft fullness. A new hunger awoke in her, a desire to change the tempo of this erotic dance. She wanted to explore every inch of him. She wanted to breathe in the sensual warm masculine scent of his skin.
She wanted to feel the changing landscape of his body beneath her lips and tongue, charting the places where his skin was soft and sensitive. Her body hummed at the thought of such a long adventure across his, at the thought of worshipping him as he deserved to be, this epitome of male beauty and strength.
She ached to serve this god.
She longed to be served by him.
Her whole body sung in response when he claimed her mouth again, thrusting his tongue between her lips in a show of unrestrained dominance. She cried out for more, lost in the waves of pleasure rocking through her. Thoughts of quiet hours spent touching and caressing were torn from her by the feel of his palm moulded around her breast and his hard length against her hip. She jacked off the bed again and rubbed his erection with her thigh, urging him into taking her.
Amon thumbed her pert nipple before rolling it between his fingers, sending sparks shooting out from its centre that stole her breath along with his kiss and sent her mind spinning. He swallowed her moans and thrust against her hip.
Dazed with lust and the heat of desire, she wriggled beneath him, desperate to get him between her legs where he belonged. The burning inside her was too much. She begged him to quench it.
He growled into her mouth and moved between her legs, parting them roughly with his knees. His hand left her breast and in one gasping thrust, he was inside her. Eyes wide, she stared up at him as he held her captive, filling her over and over with his hard length.
It was bliss.
Kat relaxed beneath him, compliant under his commanding roughness. She looked up at him through hooded eyes. His face mirrored her own, a picture of ecstasy and hunger. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. This was how it should be. She was made to love him. He was hers alone.
Amon's hand tightened around her wrists as he rocked against her, his eyes narrowing with a frown of concentration. The spark of pain his grip sent through her settled in her chest. She moaned and pressed her body into his, until they were one flesh, moving together in a mindless frenzy and rush to come undone.
Their hot, sweat-dampened skin stuck to each other, hindering their movements but not slowing either of them. She clamped her muscles around his shaft, quivering on the brink and desperate to fall into ecstasy with him.
Her eyes locked with his and widened. Their now-golden depths betrayed the start of his change into a werewolf and provoked a powerful response.
Something loomed inside her, dark and menacing. Panic replaced desire. Her whole body stiffened as her beast rose to meet his, pushing her to change. She thrashed against him, desperate to escape him and her own wolf side. He growled. She froze, mesmerised by the sight of his glistening white canines. His mouth opened in a howl. Her own howl surged through her. Her teeth grew. Her body tensed around his.
Her beast took control.
Kat shot up in bed, trembling and breathing so fast that her lungs burned. She gathered the blanket to her body and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging herself. Cool air chilled the sweat on her back. Shivering, she stared into the darkness of her bedroom.
The beast stirred inside her. She pressed her hand to her chest and took deep breaths to calm it. It was only a dream. There was no need for it to start thinking that she was going to change and take it for a walk.
A few minutes later, it had quietened again and she no longer felt it. She slipped from the bed, knowing that she couldn't sleep now, not with the dream thundering around her skull.
Flicking the bedside lamp on, she dragged her fingers through her sweat-slicked red hair and told herself to get a grip. Her hands shook when she held them out in front of her. The green numbers on her alarm clock flashed eight o'clock in the evening.
Kat padded across her bedroom to the bathroom and went straight for the shower. She stripped off, turned the shower on and stepped into the bathtub. Standing there, she let the cold water pound down on her bare body.
The beast was restless. She couldn't shift the images from the dream and they were stirring the wolf within her. Her body hummed and tingled with the memory of Amon's touch. The water became cold fingers caressing her skin.
She ducked her head under the jet to clear it and then shut the shower off. Grabbing a peach-coloured towel from the rack, she dried herself and closed her mind to thoughts of Amon. Her movements as she went through her nightly routine were mechanical.
She brushed her teeth, tied her red shoulder length hair back into a ponytail, and applied her perfume. Her underwear came next, followed by her black combat trousers and black vest top. She grabbed her little figure-hugging black shirt and paused at the mirror.
Her gaze fell to her right upper arm.
Her fingers traced the intricate thin black band tattooed around it. It matched Amon's perfectly.
She remembered the night that they'd had them done. He'd been so sweet, holding her hand and whispering soothing words whenever she had flinched away from the needle. Amon had always hated to see her hurting.
Pushing those thoughts away, she slung the shirt on and buttoned it, hiding the tattoo from view. She went to the chair in the corner of her bedroom and removed her holster from the back of it. In one fluid move, she had her arms through it. The black leather sat snug across her back, the guns hanging at her sides. They still felt heavy tonight. She ignored them. Her tiredness was reason why the proximity of the silver bullets affected her. It had nothing to do with Amon.
If she was weak, just being near silver made her sick.
When her black army boots were on and tied, and she had her jacket, she checked herself one more time in the mirror. Her dark eyes looked cold in her reflection. An image of Amon appeared behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and smiled. She shook him away along with the overwhelming need she felt for him. She didn't need him. She needed to kill something.
Turning away from her reflection, she put her jacket on and grabbed her phone. It rang the moment she touched it.
She flipped it open.
"Kat speaking."
"Kat, there's been another attack.” It was Paul, her partner at the unit.
She left the apartment and started down the stairs.
"Where?” She didn't have any werewolves on her list at the moment. Maybe whoever had done this wasn't on the list yet. A chill ran through her when she remembered Amon pacing the cage. He didn't trust himself. She hoped it wasn't him. She needed more time.
"The cemetery again."
Kat frowned. It was unusual for a turned werewolf to hunt on another's territory when they had only died the night before. Normally it took weeks for one to move in and take over.
She reminded herself that her kill last night hadn't been a rogue werewolf. Amon's man would have been there for her, not because he had any claim to the area. The cemetery must be this new werewolf's territory. It must have remained hidden until now. Or perhaps it had only recently turned dangerous and had been drawn to that area because of a werewolf death there. A shiver danced down her spine.
"I'll check it out,” she said and then added, “alone."
"Understood.” Something in Paul's voice said that he didn't understand but he was willing to let her off without a questioning tonight.
She paused, struggling to think of what to say, and then closed the phone. It didn't feel right to lie to Paul. She had known him since she had joined the Werewolf Control Forces and they had been partners for almost seven years. He was funny and smart, and a good hunter.
Ever since she had realised what she held inside, she had been distancing herself from him. Once they had been good friends. Now they were practically strangers. She wished it were different, but she couldn't risk him discovering that she had a werewolf inside her. She would be out of a job if he did. The control unit didn't employ anyone who could potentially make it onto the list.
Kat walked through the building doors and turned in the direction of the cemetery. A flicker of fear settled in her stomach. What would she do if the attacker was Amon? Leyton had asked her to make a decision. Would she kill Amon or save him?
She wasn't strong enough to do either.
Her hand went to her right gun.
The cemetery loomed ahead of her. Flashing blue and red lights told her that the clean up team were already at the scene. She nodded to them as she approached and looked into the back of the ambulance. By the looks of things, the victim was alive. The paramedics blocked her view of their patient so she couldn't see how bad it was. She turned away. She didn't need to see. She had witnessed firsthand how vicious a rogue werewolf could be.
The ambulance driver closed the back doors and then the vehicle pulled away. As the screaming sirens drifted into the distance, she drew slow deep breaths to prepare herself. The victim would survive this time. No doubt they would wake up not remembering a thing just as all the others did. The unit ran the hospitals and the drug they administered was very effective at erasing recent memories. It was the only way to stop the knowledge of werewolves spreading.
Sometimes she wished she had never found out about them. Other times she was glad that she had. She was glad that she had shared a short time with Amon.
"Kat...
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