Reece was a shifter. He was an alpha. A private investigator.
He was a wolf. The exceptionally definition of a predator.
There was no reason for him to feel like he was caught and caught. There was completely zero reason why he ought to feel like the conclusion of the world had come to his cherished little town.
Yet as he stood in his house, giving his wolves their orders for the approaching vampire danger, he might feel the dividers near in on him. They appeared to shimmy more tightly with each breath he took. With each arrange he gave, the log dividers squeezed in a foot.
All he might do was trust that no one noticed.
“You know what to do,” he said to his pack some time recently rejecting them to their positions.
“Hey,” Celestine whispered to him. She took his hand in hers and pull
