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The phone slipped from my hands as I suddenly heard a knock on the front door.
Well, that can’t be the wolf…
“Who’s there?” I shouted, willing my voice to have the same authoritative tone I used when corralling bratty interns.
There was no answer, so I peered over the edge of the loft. My blood ran cold when I saw the doorknob rattle as the wannabe intruder attempted to get in, but then I remembered I’d had enough sense to lock the door.
City-living paranoia counts for something!
With that thought, I snapped out of my cowering state. I was a Strong, Capable Woman, and whatever toothless hill-person was at my door with their oversized wolf-dog could go fuck themselves.
Because today, I’m choosing violence.
Chapter 2
Oren
This is what I get for not hiding a house key somewhere.
I sighed and knocked on the door—my door—incredibly annoyed by this turn of events. No human had set foot on this property in years, leaving me free to piss all over it as part of my vast, uncontested territory.
Until she showed up.
From what I’d observed of the young woman before she’d disappeared inside and locked me out, she wasn’t from around here. Therefore, I reasoned it would only take one good look at me to send her running.
But the thought of her running…
“You have five minutes to get the fuck off my property!” she commanded from somewhere inside, the slight waver in her voice going straight to my balls. “You and your… dog!”
“Dog?!” I shouted back, more offended by that than by her claim on my homestead.
Rude.
There was a beat of silence. “Wolf?” she asked, quieter this time.
I ran my tongue along my fangs, enjoying this exchange despite the circumstances. “Not a wolf either, I’m afraid. Why don’t you open the door and see for yourself?”
Let’s get this over with.
There was a longer delay this time, and I heard her rustling around in the kitchen area before her light footsteps returned to the entryway.
In one motion, she removed the chain and flung open the door. The overpowering scent of cherry blossoms made my vision tunnel, causing me to completely miss the large frying pan until it hit me square between the ears.
“FUCK!” I roared, clutching my head. “What the… what the fuck?!”
The pan fell to the porch with a clatter. “Y-you can talk?” she croaked, stumbling backward into the cabin.
“Of course I can fucking talk,” I grumbled, stomping inside after her and making a beeline for the kitchen. “I was just talking to you through the door, wasn’t I?”
In my periphery, I saw her sink onto the plaid couch, looking about two seconds away from a panic attack. “I thought it was your… owner talking.”
I snorted, rummaging around in the icebox for something to soothe the lump already forming beneath my fur. “Nobody owns me, city girl. I’d be a fool to allow an inferior human to hold that honor.”
“Because you’re not human…” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
The timidity in her voice bothered me so much, I sharply glanced her way. I was prepared to make another sarcastic remark—to rile her up enough to give me a challenge—but something in her face stopped me.
That face…
