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“Hey. Wake up, honey. Open your eyes and direct all that anger at me again.”

She didn’t stir, and he patted her cheek again.

This time, her eyes fluttered and then opened. There was confusion in them at first, but once the obvious recognition of him flooded the pale blue, she came at him swinging. He grinned and subdued her before she could manage any more damage to herself. He scooped her up and carried her back to the truck while she struggled to get free of his hold. If she had any inkling how much it excited him each time she wiggled those luscious curves against him, he was sure she’d smack him a good one, be horrified, or both.

“You’re going to have to trust me just a little bit, darling. I swear on my life I won’t let any harm come to you.” He nuzzled her soft hair and inhaled.

Her scent was sweet and called to him even through the cloying deer urine stench.

“Can’t trust you.” Her whispered words cut through his heart like a knife.

“At least tell me your name. If you don’t, I’m going to start calling you Ethel or Matilda or Hildegard or something.”

“Rose. Rose Canton,” she whispered against his shoulder, where her cheek rested now that she’d finally stopped struggling.

“That’s a fitting name. A beautiful rose with thorns.” He rubbed at his chest where his shirt was still sticky with drying blood from the arrow and the knife wounds.

Luckily the arrow had missed everything major and left a clean hole that hadn’t gone all the way through to his back. He’d bled like a stuck hog for a few moments, but the wound was now more bothersome than painful.

He set her in the passenger side and buckled her seat belt before leaning close and whispering in her ear, “I lied about not hurting you. When you are feeling better from this little stunt, I’m going to tan your ass.”

He smirked when she shot him a murderous glare and then cringed when her head no doubt protested. He was so more than pissed at the moment, but he wouldn’t lose control with her. She was already leery enough around him. She had scared the living shit out of him, and he was sure that he’d have several gray hairs to show for it soon. It was rare for lycans to get gray hair, but he knew if anything could cause them, this was one of those things.

He walked back to the driver’s side and slid in behind the wheel. He glanced at Rose after putting the truck in drive and turning down the road that led to his place. Rose. His mate. How had he been lucky enough to find her after all of these years? She’d be hard to win over. She was angry, stubborn, and . . . lovely, but win her over he would no matter how long it took. He’d never let her go again, and she’d simply have to get used to the idea that not all lycans were monsters.

He turned down the long drive flanked by thick evergreen trees that cocooned his house away from the rest of the world. He’d been lucky enough to rent it from an older man who had once used it as a hunting getaway. The poor gentleman had been sick, was not going to use the cedar-sided cabin this year, and had been more than happy to accept Knox’s generous offer for rent. Knox had promised to take care of the place and leave it in the same condition he’d found it, which was surprisingly clean, comfortable, and quaint, although he planned on doing some repairs if he had time.

He stopped the truck, put it in park, and killed the engine. When he turned to look at Rose, she was staring back at him. Her skin was pale and the black smudges under her eyes gave away her tiredness. He wasn’t about to put up with the argument she looked to be gearing up to give him, and when she started to speak, he held his hand up.

“Do us both a favor, and let’s not do this tonight. You’re tired, hurt, and I’m still pissed at your little acrobatic-dive-turn-eating-the-pavement stunt.”

“You didn’t give me a choice.”

“Rose?” He reached for her and tucked a soft strand of hair behind her ear, then reluctantly retreated when she flinched at his touch. He refused to let her see just how bad that reaction cut him to the bone.

“What?”

“Have I hurt you once tonight?”

“No, but—”

“Have I given you any indication to believe that I am going to hurt you?”

She hesitated before answering. “You’re a lycan.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No.” She said the words through clenched teeth, obviously not happy about admitting this to him.

“Then let’s let the arguments rest for tonight. You can go in, have a hot shower or bath, take some aspirin, and get a good night’s sleep.” He leaned close and sniffed. “If nothing else, please wash that horrible stench off.”

When she puffed out a breath of indignation, he laughed.

“Sorry, babe, but you don’t exactly smell like your name implies.”

She gave him one last seething glare, whipped the door open, and started for the house. He followed close behind in case she decided to bolt. This was going to be one hell of a ride. She wasn’t going to cut him one inch of slack. He looked down and couldn’t help but admiring her ass as it swayed in front of him. The black leather hugged it, outlining every delicious curve, and he barely kept a groan from escaping. He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from reaching out to touch the perfectly showcased cheeks. Yep, one hell of a ride—one he planned to take for the rest of his life.

Chapter Four

Rose’s head pounded as she stood under the hot spray of the shower. Since that horrible night Tammy was killed, her life had never been so out of control. How had she allowed herself to be caught by him? Knox

Slade. A monster. A lycan. The thing she hated most. And why in the blazes did he have to be so damned good-looking? She shook her head and instantly regretted the action when pain sliced through her temple.

Jumping out of a moving truck, no matter how slow it had been rolling, hadn’t been the wisest, best thought-out thing she’d ever done. Her head, shoulder, and knee ached like hell, but thankfully, the aspirin

Knox had given her after he’d brought her some clean towels and one of his T-shirts to wear took the edge off.

She had spare clothes in the truck, but she didn’t want to let him in on that because along with the clothes was a survival pack that she’d be able to use when she made her escape. So for now, she’d play the meek guest until an opportunity to run presented itself.

She rolled her shoulders under the warm jets of water pelting her and rubbed the shampoo out of her thick hair. She wanted to condition it, knew she should since it would be next to impossible to get a comb through the thick mass if she didn’t, but she couldn’t muster up enough energy to do it.

She turned the water off and stepped from the shower. While she toweled off, she looked around. She hadn’t really noticed much about the house when they’d come in because her head had been pounding so hard.

The bathroom wasn’t anything special, but it was clean, comfortable, and she liked it. With a few feminine touches, it would be quite cozy. She rolled her eyes. Why would she care about adding any touches to it at all?

She wouldn’t be here long. She slipped the T-shirt over her head, and it hung loosely, hitting just above the knees. She wrapped the towel around her head and looked for her clothes. She’d left them on the floor, but now they were nowhere to be found.

She would have probably thrown out the horrible-smelling outfit, but it kind of irked her that Knox had taken them, especially while she’d been showering, no less. He had some nerve, and yet through the indignation she felt from his actions, a small shiver of heat slithered through her at the thought of him being in the same room while she stood naked in the shower. She rolled her eyes again. This was so not the time to find out her hormones were still intact. She’d never willingly let a lycan touch her, but why did the thought of Knox’s hands on her not disgust her quite as much as she thought it should?