Right Wolf, Right Time

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Monty GrayClaw’s heart raced and his palms sweated. Years spent in captivity paled next to the dread spreading like a toxin through his system.

A wolf in human clothing, Monty should have felt far more confident than he did. He was Ac-taw, a born Shifter who could take the form of the noblest creature on the planet—a gray wolf of estimable grace, power and control. Yet he trembled. Hell. He couldn’t screw this up, not if he wanted to remain sane. One false step would be the end of him.

He glanced over his shoulder, expecting a trap. It was too quiet, too easy. All the months of lying in wait, the subtle stalking, being patient while his prey turned ripe for the plucking…it boiled down to how he maneuvered tonight.

The moon shone brightly overhead, the sweet smells of pine and rosemary making the cool, late-August air crisp with flavor, but not sharp enough to hide the creature moving within the antiquated Victorian still in sad need of repair.

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