HOWL OF A BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 4: The First Kiss

Run? Every survival instinct screamed at her to bolt, but her journalist's mind whirred faster than her heartbeat, demanding answers she couldn’t ignore. Sarah's legs refused to run.

"No," she said, the word tumbling out before she could second-guess herself.

Kane's movements were pure predator as he stalked closer, his body vibrating with restrained violence. Blood—Victoria's blood—still glistened on his lips, the metallic scent hanging heavy in the air. "No?" His voice was a low growl, more beast than man.

"You just saved my life."

"And I just ripped out a woman's throat. With my teeth." He slammed his hands against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. The sheer force of it rattled the old plaster. "Do you have any idea how dangerous tonight is? What the full moon does to us?"

Sarah swallowed hard but lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his fiery gaze. "Then explain it to me."

He laughed, the sound cold and dark. "Explain? You want an interview now?"

"Yes," she said, her voice firm despite the fear coiling in her stomach. "Right now."

Their tense standoff was shattered by the sound of running footsteps echoing down the hall. A familiar voice shouted: "Sir! Victoria's pack is here!"

Kane cursed under his breath, his muscles tensing. "Damn it." He grabbed Sarah's wrist without warning, his grip firm but not painful. "Time to go."

"Where—" she began, but he was already moving, pulling her toward a hidden panel in the wall. He pressed a concealed button, and the panel slid open to reveal a narrow, dimly lit passageway.

"Keep up," Kane growled, his tone brooking no argument.

Sarah stumbled after him, her shoes slipping on the uneven stone floor as they descended deeper underground. Above them, the sounds of chaos—shouting, snarls, the crash of breaking furniture—grew fainter with each step.

"Where are we going?" she demanded, breathless.

"Panic room," Kane replied shortly. "Well... more like a panic cave."

They emerged into a massive underground space. The walls gleamed with reinforced steel, the furnishings sparse but unmistakably expensive. A large control panel dominated one corner, and heavy doors slid shut behind them with a resonant thunk.

Only then did Kane release her hand. He paced the room like a caged animal, every movement sharp and restless.

"You should have run," he muttered, more to himself than to her. His golden eyes flicked toward her, pupils dilated, his breathing labored. "Gods, your scent is everywhere now."

"My scent?" Sarah pressed her back against the cold steel wall, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.

Kane turned on her, his movements almost too fast to follow. "Do you have any idea what you smell like right now? Fear, adrenaline..." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "And that damn perfume..." His voice broke into a low growl as he closed the distance between them.

Sarah's breath hitched as her back hit the wall, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "Then stop thinking about it," she said softly.

Kane froze, his entire body going rigid. "What did you say?"

"You’ve been fighting it all night," she said, her voice steady now. "The change. The moon. Me." She stepped forward, her hand trembling as she reached for his face. "Stop fighting."

"You don’t know what you’re asking," he whispered, though his eyes—now a blazing, unnatural gold—betrayed his resolve slipping. "If I lose control—"

"You won’t hurt me," Sarah interrupted. "You just proved that."

"Sarah..." Her name was a guttural snarl, torn from his throat as though it hurt to say it. "This is your last chance to run."

She shook her head and gently cupped his face. His skin burned under her palm, the heat of it shocking and electric.

"No running," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kane’s control shattered. He crushed his mouth to hers, the kiss wild and consuming. Sarah gasped at the taste of him—blood and danger and something raw, almost feral. His hands gripped her waist, lifting her effortlessly against the wall. She tangled her fingers in his dark hair, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down her throat. His teeth—longer and sharper now—grazed her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

A distant howl echoed through the ventilation system, sharp and menacing. Kane jerked back, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.

"They’re hunting," he rasped. "Victoria’s pack. They’ll track your scent..."

More howls answered the first, closer now, the sound reverberating through the steel walls.

Sarah pushed off the wall, pulling a small device from her pocket. She held it up, the screen glowing faintly.

Kane’s eyes narrowed. "What is that?"

"My phone," she said. "I got everything on video—the fight, the transformation..."

"You what?" Kane’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl, his expression darkening.

"Insurance," Sarah replied calmly, holding the phone higher. "You protect me, I protect you. Mutually assured destruction."

For a moment, she thought he might actually lunge at her. His fists clenched, his jaw tightening. But then, to her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed—a real, booming laugh that seemed to shake the room.

"You brilliant, insane woman," he said, stepping closer and cupping her face with his burning hands. "Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?"

The howls were directly above them now, accompanied by the sound of claws raking against steel.

"I’m about to find out," Sarah said, her lips curving into a defiant smile. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled him down for another kiss. "Now, about that interview..."

Kane’s grin showed far too many teeth. "Later. Right now..." His body began to ripple, muscles shifting under his skin as he transformed. "I need to deal with some uninvited guests."

Sarah held up her phone, her thumb hovering over the record button. "We need to deal with them," she corrected.

The bunker lights flickered as something massive slammed against the door above them. Kane, now fully transformed into a massive black wolf, positioned himself between Sarah and the approaching threat. His growl rumbled through the room like thunder.

The door above gave way with a deafening crash, and snarls and howls filled the air. Shadows poured into the bunker—wolves of all shapes and sizes, their eyes glowing with the same golden light as Kane’s.

Sarah hit record. "Chapter one," she whispered to herself, raising the phone to capture the unfolding chaos.

Kane lunged, a blur of fur and fangs, colliding with the nearest wolf in an explosion of violence. Sarah edged toward the control panel, her mind racing as she recorded the scene.

The wolves circled Kane, their snarls vibrating through the air. One broke away, turning its attention to Sarah.

"Not today," she muttered, grabbing a heavy wrench from a nearby table. She swung it with all her strength, connecting with a sickening crunch. The wolf yelped and staggered back.

Kane, mid-fight, turned toward her, his golden eyes blazing. His growl seemed to say, Impressive.

As the fight raged on, Sarah’s camera captured every moment. Blood, teeth, and fury filled the bunker, but Sarah’s heart pounded with exhilaration instead of fear.

This was the story of a lifetime.

And she wasn’t going to run.