Sheridan
I’m drunk on endorphins for the entire ride home—I hardly notice that Trey’s put me in the passenger side of my car and took my keys to drive. When we get out, I throw my head back, like I’m in wolf form and am going to howl at the moon.
The moon bathes me in her beauty—she’s full and lush, her feminine power amplifying mine.
Trey’s eyes glint silver, too, and I suddenly can’t believe he’s never marked me. Our wolves were made for each other. How could we have denied it all these years? I lunge at him, twisting his shirt up in my fingers, smashing my lips over his.
He stumbles back, a surprised chuckle puffing between us, then yanks me up to straddle his waist. I bite his neck, lick his ear, rub my breasts against his chest. Somehow, he gets us inside and then we tear at each
