"Shh, shh," a voice whispered against my ear, and my blood turned to ice.
Mike.
"Don't scream, Luna," he murmured, and I could hear the sick pleasure in his voice. "I just wanted a moment alone with you. Away from all those watching eyes."
His hand remained over my mouth, his other arm braced against the wall beside my head, caging me in. I could smell his cologne, could feel his breath on my neck, and every instinct in my body was screaming danger.
He was staring at me with a lustful expression.
I felt disgusted.
"You know," he continued conversationally, as if we were just having a casual chat and he wasn't physically restraining me, "I like a woman with spirit. Most she-wolves just simper and flatter, but you? You've got fire."
I tried to pull away, but he pressed closer, and my
