Someone’s killing werewolves.
Lukas Vance finds a list of towns, and in each one he discovers a murdered 19-year-old who smells almost like pack even though he knows they can’t be related to him. He reaches the next town on the list before the killer, determined to get the intended victim out of this situation alive. When he catches the familiar pack scent and sees the guy it belongs to, Lukas wants to do so much more than protect him.
Chris Keenan doesn’t know why gorgeous, broody Lukas thinks he’s in danger. Lukas says he wants to keep him safe, and when Chris freaks out Lukas is the only one able to calm him down. Chris has been feeling off for a while, and whatever’s causing that seems to be related to the list of towns and the murderer who’s made him a target. Instead of going to the police, Chris puts his trust in Lukas. But even with Lukas protecting him, figuring out what’s wrong with him may be the last thing Chris ever does.
Chris padded in, his hair damp and mussed. He looked at the empty bed, then at Lukas, like he didn’t know where to sleep.
“Come here,” Lukas whispered. He got up and pulled the blanket down, then crawled back in. When Chris slid in next to him, Lukas pulled him close. Chris’ wet hair pressed under his chin and against his throat.
They fit perfectly together. Lukas didn’t mind the idea of not being able to sleep, since he could enjoy being this close to Chris.
“I can smell more things now,” Chris said in a small voice. “Emotion.”
“Yeah? Like what.”
“When I woke in the car, Albert’s fear.”
“Even over that cologne? He didn’t bring any of that with him, did he? I’m going to pitch it when he’s not looking.”
Chris laughed, and the knot in Lukas’ chest loosened.
“My dad has begged him to lighten up on it, maybe spritz it into the air and just run through it.”
Lukas carded his fingers through Chris’ wet hair, inhaling the clean, fresh scent. “So, you smelled Albert’s fear, and what else?”
“Just that so far.” Chris turned his face so his nose pressed against Lukas’ chest.
“You’ve always smelled good,” Chris whispered. “But now there’s something else.”
Chris inhaled deeply. He pressed closer, and a tell-tale shudder went through his body.
If Chris had been a bitten wolf, it would be good that he could smell more things now. But Lukas didn’t know what he was or how he came to be this way, and the result of whatever was going on seemed like it could kill him. He cleared his throat. “What things?”
Chris kept breathing him in, nosing the side of his neck as he slid up. “You smell different now. Better.”
“Shower’ll do that every time.”
Chris chuckled against his skin. “No. More like the woods after a rainstorm. And something musky, something rich . . .”
Chris nuzzled Lukas’ neck, and this time it was Lukas’ turn to shudder. As Chris’ body slid along Lukas’, Chris’ hand touched his stomach, then slid beneath Lukas’ T-shirt, skin on skin, moving up to his chest.
Chris was scenting him, and he didn’t even know it.
Chris looked up, Lukas’ fingers still in his hair, his lips parted, his eyes dark with arousal, cheeks flushed. Chris licked his lips. “It’s desire, isn’t it?” Chris asked. “I can smell how much you want me.”
Lukas nodded. He’d never wanted anyone more.
About the Author:
Shelley Grayson grew up on a riverbank in a microscopic town, and now lives in a slightly bigger town with a rescue cat she didn’t really want and now can’t imagine life without. When she’s not writing, she’s wishing her daughter’s college wasn’t so far away. If she’s not wearing her glasses, she probably won’t recognize you, even if you plop down in her lap. And then you’d be blocking the TV, where she’s probably watching old episodes of MST3K and Star Trek.
She loves gay romance, adores werewolves and other paranormal creatures, and doesn’t want to bother if there’s not a happy ending.
Shelley also writes contemporary gay romance as S.K. Grayson.