Chapter 1: Fancy Meeting You Like This

I awoke to an uncanny stillness and a preternatural chill in the air. Misty Creek was always cooler than other places due to the elevation and the strange, creeping mist visible every morning and during the plentiful thunderstorms, especially during the spring and summer months. But this was something different. Fear skittered down my spine as I swung my feet over the side of the bed, snatching up my robe as I stood.

Creeping on silent feet, I tiptoed into the kitchen. Gooseflesh rose on my arms. Had I not locked the door? Shaking off my fear, I crept forward, stopping every so often to check the windows and back door. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Had they found me? I’d done everything right. Ditched my cell phone. Left almost everything behind.

I stopped all contact with anyone who knew me before, paid everything in cash, and used a fake identity every time I needed one. Nothing seemed amiss, but the odd feeling didn’t leave me, even after making a pot of coffee.

This was the silence of predators—when things crept from the darkness and swallowed you whole. I blew out a breath, trying to reason with myself. Maybe the windows weren’t sealed properly or the insulation needed a refresh. It would make more sense than my worst fears bouncing around my head.

The scent of fresh coffee perked me right up, allowing me to forget the past for a moment. I wasn’t the most organized person, but I never forgot to set my coffee pot up each morning to greet me with the lifeblood of java. Humming, I fixed myself a cup, adding just a smidge of cream and sugar, and turned.

The living room window stood wide open. Damp leaves littered the sill and the surrounding floor. My blood turned to ice as I straightened, sweeping my gaze across the area to see what I had missed. I sent a tiny pulse of power around me, checking for a human presence, something I always used to do. Nothing. It didn’t mean I was out of the woods yet, though.

I’d gotten complacent. Just in time to die, I supposed. My fingers gripped the mug so tightly that my knuckles went white. Pushing away from the counter, I tiptoed further into the living room, my toes clenching as they hit the chilly tile. I stopped a few feet away from the back of the couch and scanned, my breath harsh and ragged in the tense silence.

Thoughts spiraled through my head. They’d found me. I hadn’t run far enough. I’d never escape them. Why couldn’t they just let me go? There had to be another one like me somewhere. It was the only thing that gave me hope. They’d find another one and forget about me. But then I’d feel guilty.

Was releasing my burden only for someone else to carry it fair? Of course it wasn’t, but I’d been on the run for so long, it was the only thing that kept me going. I wanted to live. So far, I’d only been surviving. I worked a crap job with horrible hours and an even worse boss, lived in a cute but cramped tiny home, and had very little savings to my name.

I couldn’t leave right now even if I wanted to. Ramen noodles made up the bulk of my pantry, and a boxed cake mix was the height of luxury for me. I couldn’t even afford a coffee at the place I worked, even with the employee discount.

The sound of fabric sliding jerked my thoughts to an abrupt halt. The couch. Something was on my couch. Why hadn’t I sensed it? Was it not human? I slowly tiptoed back to the pantry and retrieved a scarred wooden bat I’d kept with me since the night I’d run from the only home I’d ever known.

Hefting it with two hands, I crept back over to the couch and peered around the side. A massive black wolf with startling amber eyes flecked with emerald blinked up at me. It lay on top of the old patchwork quilt I’d carried with me when I left. A rush of air escaped me, and I took one large step back, holding the bat up in the air.

Me versus wolf would not go well. I’d be mincemeat before I could whack it more than once. But also…it was stunning. Raven-colored fur shimmered blue in the dim morning light, though there was a tiny white diamond-shaped piece of fur right between its eyes.

That’s why I hadn’t felt it. My powers only extended to humans. Not animal life. It didn’t seem aggressive, but I wasn’t about to drop the bat. "Good wolf," I said, waving a hand at it. "Go away. Shoo." The wolf blinked at me again. It opened its mouth, exposing way too many razor-sharp teeth. I took another step back, not wanting to investigate how sharp those things were.

"Shoo," I said again, my heart pounding against my chest. "Out the way you came. You don’t belong here." I waved the bat at it. "Don’t make me use this." It tilted its enormous head as if to say, do you really think you’ll have time to use that before I eat you?

We stared at each other, and while I debated the wisdom of trying to chase a freaking wolf out of my living room, a strand of iridescent gold streamed around it. My mouth fell open as I watched.

What strange magic was this? Fear gripped me as I edged closer to the hallway, steeling myself to turn tail and run.

Seconds later, a man lay in the place of the wolf, staring at me solemnly. All rational thought fled my brain. I’d never seen a man more beautiful than him. His hair was the same color as his fur, the ebony sheen of a raven’s wing, cut short but curling around the edges of his ears. His eyes held more green, a strange mix of emerald and amber, glowing brightly as he studied me.

He was lean but powerfully muscled, his skin golden and marked by thin white scars. I did not allow my eyes to drift any further. Ogling a dangerous stranger I was currently at the mercy of seemed unwise.

"I wouldn’t," he said mildly, pointing to the weapon I held like a lifeline.

"Um." I blinked. "You." Pointing at him, the bat slipped from my fingers. "How?"

A lazy grin spread across his face, and he wiggled his fingers. "Magic."

A snort escaped me. "Obviously," I retorted. "Why are you in my living room?"

His expression darkened. "I’m not sure. Please accept my apologies. I’ll drop a check in the mail for the damage I caused to the window."

"Rough night?" I prodded. This man…wolf…had to be a shifter. I’d never met one, and I wasn’t sure they’d actually existed. Until today. Could werewolves get hangovers? Was this the result of a wild night?

He shook his head. "Something like that." Without another word, he stood. My gaze hit the middle of his powerful chest, and I craned my head up to look at him. Six feet tall, at least. Maybe taller. My breath caught in my throat, even as my head screamed, danger, danger, danger!

"I’ll be on my way…" His eyebrows rose in expectation.

"Aspen," I croaked.

"Aspen," he repeated. A shiver rolled over my skin at the way my name sounded on his lips.

Abruptly, I realized my mistake. Drooling over a handsome supernatural intruder wasn’t the dumbest thing I’d ever done, but it was up there. Top five for sure.

His eyes glittered as he studied me. "Farewell, Aspen."

The same golden magic swirled around his feet. Seconds later, a wolf as high as my hips appeared, and with a last look behind him, he sailed out of the window in one powerful leap.