MORIA
“Moria, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Being stupid?”
I stop and glare at his face peering out the rolled down car window.
“I’m walking home.”
“Like I said,” He grunts, raising the corner of one eyebrow. “…being stupid.”
That of course does nothing to help my anger.
Or the knowledge that for all my sense of self preservation, not only had I almost screwed the man who tried to kill me but I had almost done it in a changing booth.
And not just a normal man but someone who is half man half wolf.
A wolf man.
A wolf man with a mate.
A wolf man with a mate who drinks the blood of others.
I should probably find somewhere to scream.
Then get my head checked for good measure.
I wonder if they have mental hospitals in this world.
Because I had to ha
