Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 5

I’m not sure why I invited the strange wolf to my home.

I’m obviously grateful. He saved me from what would’ve been rape or death or worse. But I usually

don’t involve myself with other wolves these days.

Since my release, I’ve stuck to myself.

So why did I welcome him? Gratitude, sure.

More likely… because I’m lonely. So lonely it’s hard to imagine what I’m living for. But in those brief

seconds this stranger risked his life for mine…it was like someone saw something in me. Something

worth saving.

He glances at me sharply while I fumble with the lock. I open the door and hold it open for him to enter.

They call it a ‘studio apartment,’ but it feels more like a box. A cramped space with just the essentials—

a bed, table, kitchen and bathroom.

I watch him carefully, his expression giving nothing away. I gesture to his still bloody hands. “If you

want to wash up…”

He wordlessly moves to the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Chris is a monster. The wolves that were with him…they’re no better.

If I was still an attorney, I would’ve put them all in prison for their crimes or have them punished by pack

law. But life had taught me that the innocent rarely prevailed.

I repeat my mantra in my head.

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Today is a new day.

The man steps out of the bathroom. His brows furrow as he looks at me.

I can only imagine what he sees.

My clothes are torn. I’m dirty and bruised. My hair’s a mess and I’m sure my face is too. The back of

my hair is caked and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a gash from when Chris smashed my head into a wall.

He sniffs deeply. “You’re not human.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“No. But I’m not like you,” I tell him the truth. “My wolf is gone.”

His eyes widen, the most emotion I’ve seen from him.

His gaze travels over me, probably cataloging all my injuries. If I could shift, my body could heal

instantly. But without my wolf…

I am weak. Fragile. Human.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’ll heal.” Eventually…

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “I don’t have much, but I have dry rice and pasta—“

“I’m not hungry.” Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Let me get you a drink.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

I’ve been on my own for so long, I am not up to casual conversation. If I’m being honest, I don’t think

he’s too good at that either.

He crosses the small room until he’s directly in front of me.

I lift my head, tilting it back, until I meet his eyes.

I twist my hands together anxiously, and they ache. Just one more pain in my scarred body. But even

that pales to the discomfort of not knowing what to say or do or how to act around this strong wolf.

He touches my face and a soft sigh escapes me.

He tilts my head, side to side.

I feel awkward, and strangely lacking, beneath his gaze.

"What's your name?” he asks.

“Grace… You?”

He remains silent for a long time, then finally answers: "Jay."

"Jay," I repeat his name. It’s a common one, could even be an initial or nickname, so I don’t think much

about it. “Where do you live? What about your pack?"

He scoffs. "I don't have one.”

That’s heartbreaking. He’s a good man. One who thought nothing of saving a total stranger. It didn’t

seem fair that he was rogue or exiled.

He’s watching me closely, his senses sharper than mine. I wonder what he's learning about me. I

squirm uncomfortably.

I take a step backward, but he follows.

This man… Jay… is powerful. He’s big and strong and he has alpha genes. A body and will made for

war. I wonder briefly if he ever fought in the great pack wars, like my grandfather did

This man has the body of a warrior and the face of a model. One of his dark brows arches up and I

realize I’ve been staring… A lot.

I blush, embarrassment staining my face and warming my ears.

“You, uh, really should shift,” I stutter, latching onto the distraction. He isn’t injured. But the fight

would’ve stirred his animal instincts. Better to let the wolf takeover than keep it caged up.

“Why is that, Grace?” The way he says my name makes my breath hitch in my chest. He lifts my chin

with his large hand, forcing me to look him in the eye.

“What is it you’re hoping will happen…?”

Then he bends down to me, his face inches away, his lips so, so close to mine. His hot breath sends

shivers through my body. And I feel something stirring within me that I haven’t felt in years. Something

like desire…

It would only take one swift move to lean in, and…