Lost and Claimed

2-Wolf in Sheep's Skin

2-Wolf In Sheep's Skin

Davina wasn’t that stupid. Not by a long shot.

“Rest?” she laughed, thin and tight. “People rest at home… not some random motel with a stranger.”

He gave a low, calm laugh over his shoulder

“Hey, I’m hardly some random stranger, am I? You know my name, know I’m local police. I’ll just let you sleep nothing more. Truth is… I’m dead tired too. Straight off a twelve‑hour shift came straight here just to see you.”

His voice was steady, reasonable sounded so genuine it almost settled her nerves.

She forced herself not to panic, kept her posture loose. If she fought or screamed now… it’d look like *she’d* changed her mind. Like she’d come along willingly, then threw a fit. Exactly what he wanted anyone to believe.

They parked and walked inside. At the front desk, he nodded toward the small seating nook

“Wait here a minute, I’ll take care of everything.”

He moved with such quiet, practiced ease like he’d done this same thing a dozen times before. Davina noticed every bit of it.

She stood there stiff, heart hammering hard. She’d never stepped foot in a motel in her life. And beneath all her sharp tricks… she was still untouched, a virgin.

A tiny, trembling voice whispered inside her: *How did I end up here? What was I thinking?*

She hadn’t even gotten a single bite to eat all day. This was way further than she ever meant to go — far too dangerous. Fear coiled tight in her chest.

For all her skill at twisting words and playing games… she truly knew almost nothing of this rough, cruel world outside.

He returned with the key, calm as ever, and led her down the narrow, dim hall.

She kept her tone sweet and easy, still trying to slip out gently

“Harry… truly, I feel so much better now, I really should head home. No need to keep you up any longer.”

She started to step back but his fingers curled light yet unyielding around her wrist. No rough jerk, no shouting just a firm, steady hold she couldn’t shake off.

His smile stayed warm, almost tender but his voice dropped, smooth and unarguable

“Aw, don’t be like that… I promised I’d look after you. Just come inside, rest a little.”

He guided her forward. Slow, gentle… and impossible to resist.

The door clicked shut behind them.

To her quiet shock, the room was far better than she feared cool air‑conditioning hummed softly, sheets crisp and clean, pillows plump and bright white. Almost decent.

Harry kicked off his shoes, flopped straight onto the far side of the bed like he belonged there.

“See? Just rest. Nothing else.”

Davina lay down carefully, clinging tight to that fragile hope — *maybe he really will just sleep. Maybe I got lucky this time.*

Her body felt heavy, exhaustion pulling at her bones but her mind stayed razor‑sharp, every sense wide awake. She let her eyes fall shut, feigning deep, peaceful sleep.

Minutes dragged slow. Then, so faint she almost missed it. A shift.

A hand drifted slow, casual at first… brushing her hip, gliding up her side. Higher… and higher, until it rested, heavy and warm, right over her breast.

His touch grew deliberate. Slow, warm, then firm as he gently squeezed. He traced every curve, roaming higher, feeling her up like she was something meant only for him.

Davina froze completely blood turning to ice. Confusion tangled with sharp, cold terror. Yet even then, her mind raced fast: *What do I do? How do I slip out?*

Before she could stir, he shifted turning her roughly toward him, one hand still holding her in place. His face leaned in, eyes dark and hungry and he pressed in to claim her mouth.

Something deep inside screamed pure danger — blaring, sharp, impossible to ignore. Yet her flesh betrayed her: heat coiled low, a hungry, traitorous thrum answering his touch before her mind could stop it.

She burned with shame. Felt filthy down to her bones. Lost as she was, she’d always clung to one quiet truth: her first time was meant for love, not this. Nothing but empty lust, a meaningless night that teetered sickeningly close to being taken entirely against her will.

She shot upward fast. But he crushed her back down in one rough, unyielding motion. Impatience radiated off him now; the mask slipping thin.

Why… why did she let it go this far?

Her body ached to lean in her mind screamed to run. They warred violently, no longer speaking the same tongue. She loathed herself most of all for wanting even a fraction of what he offered, for letting the predator creep so close before she dared to fight back.

A single tear slipped free. Hot and trembling. *No. Not like this.*

Harry was far gone, burning with arousal, blind to the terror rising sharp on her face. He pressed closer, his rigid need grinding shamelessly against her. And every line she’d ever held began to snap.

Then something deep within her *shifted*.

A heavy, shadow‑woven aura unfurled ancient, bound, screaming to tear loose. Long‑chained strength roared awake, rising solely to defend what was hers.

Her fear dissolved. Swallowed whole by blistering, unyielding wrath.

Her innocence… her virginity. It was the last pure thing she still possessed. She would never hand it over to anyone like him. Not to lust, not to cruelty, not to theft.

This wild, unknown power. It would guard it. It would guard Her. And she would not break.

One of her hands slipped free from his hold with unnatural ease — no struggle, just sudden, terrifying freedom.

It rose to close around his throat, fingers slowly, steadily tightening. Beneath her pale skin, faint violet‑glowing veins coiled upward along her arm like living smoke. Her nails sharpened into dark‑violet‑tipped claws. Threatening to fully extend… only to retract again, as if some heavy chain still held the monster back, fighting to burst loose.

Her eyes shifted next warm grey swallowed whole, spreading like spilled ink until nothing remained but endless, solid void. Violet luminescent veins branched outward from her lids, streaking across her skin like dark, sacred markings.

Harry seized her arm, but hesitation flooded his face. Confusion clouded him he could barely believe what he was seeing. His grip stayed firm, yet trembled, unsure if this was real.

She purred — low, menacing, utterly inhuman. Her voice dropped to a heavy, monstrous feminine tone, thrumming with faint, echoing power.

“Touch me one inch further… and you will regret the cost.”

Harry shook his head hard, trying to rouse himself — still reeling in terror and disbelief. He squeezed his eyes shut, drew a ragged breath.

When he opened them, Everything was normal. Just normal Davina's hand tightening around his neck. He scrambled back, pale and shaken. He wondered wildly if he’d lost his mind… or if the liquor had tricked his eyes.

He feigned calm, and slipped under the covers. Acting as if he’d truly rest. But the alcohol finally hit hard. He collapsed instantly, snoring before long.

Davina didn’t know she’d changed at all only that she was still badly shaken. She stared, faintly stunned her threat actually worked, after being so thoroughly cornered just moments before.

Her hands shook violently as she snatched up her bag and belongings. She moved fast, heart still hammering — not daring to glance back at his sleeping form. She slipped quietly out the door, pulling it shut behind her, and fled into the night.