[BOOK ONE] When hunter-gatherer Adele Shepherd comes across an injured werewolf in the woods, it's up to her to take him in and save his life: in a remote town dedicated to killing the creatures, she's the only one left who wants to help no matter t...
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THE MOON SANK, making way for the sun to pull itself over the lip of the sleepy horizon as though it was lazily crawling out of bed long after its alarm had gone off. The morning light had hit the snooze button as many times as it could before duty roused it from the restfulness of night. Less than a handful of hours remained before midday would strike its bell, a quiet clock ticking down each second that passed and collecting them into minutes that built into hours.
There was no alarm in the cabin. Adele rose when she wanted to rise, her body waking when it had slept enough to greet the day. When her thoughts transitioned from dreams to reality, she opened her eyes to the barely visible hue of the sunrise that filtered through the cracks in the treetops: shades of orange melted into pale blue, the rainbow palette unobscured by a single cloud. Not the slightest wisp traced across the sky to ruin the perfect sunrise.
Caleb's arms were warm around her body, her head tucked beneath his chin and his hand over her stomach. He was still sleeping, his breaths gently blowing her hair, but he stirred when he sensed that she had awoken. He didn't move his hands but his lips pulled into a smile against her head burying his face in her hair. When he inhaled her, a flower blossomed in her chest with a tinkle like the gentle bell of a wind chime.
"Morning," she said when she felt him rise.
"Morning." He moved at last, freeing her from his comfortable hold. "How did you sleep?"
"Incredibly," she murmured, her words swallowed by the pillow. She didn't have to think about that. She had slept amazingly. the deepest and most peaceful night she'd had ever, and a flicker of vulnerability traced through her. She had never let herself feel weak before; never had she let her emotions take over her fight for a clear head. She had never been in a position where she could afford to let her guard down, until now.
In that moment, there was nowhere she needed to be except lying in his arms. She had never done that before, sleeping with a man in the most innocent sense of the word. Usually, every morning after came in the light of a long night before, but not this time. She had no urge to kick him out of her bed; she didn't want him to leave and never come back. She just wanted him, an all-consuming urge that ravaged her body, the strongest tug on her heart she had ever felt, but it wasn't the kind of urge she was used to.
