Allison Fox twisted in the sand, putting the handcuffs holding her wrists underneath her and came face to face with a devil.
A dark eyed, dark haired gorgeous devil at that whose every tall, muscled inch towered over her. Despite the scowl and the danger emanating from him, the man underneath intrigued her.
She recognized her captor as Diego, one of the brothers who owned Club Diablo. A strip club that sat at the entrance to Devils Point, the island these men called home.
Except these were no ordinary men. They were dangerous werewolves who threatened humanity with their very existence. Although they were nothing like the wolves she’d encountered in the past.
These were clean, well dressed and rather articulate. It hadn’t been easy identifying them as shifters at first.
Except this was their mating season, the one time a year they lost control when it came to their need to mate. And with such single-minded focus distracting them, they tended to let their guards down.
“You got her, Diego? Or do you need our help getting her home?”
She turned to the voice to see Dante and Damien also staring down at her. Although they were shifting around as if antsy to get the hell out of there.
“Not much to it. Look at her. She’s like a scrawny rat. I can easily handle her alone.”
Scrawny rat. She took offense at his assessment of her but kept her mouth firmly shut. The less she engaged the better. Besides, her energy was better used to figure out her escape. She still had a mission to accomplish before she could go home.
“Good, we’re headed back home to check on the others. But Chess and Branch will be around if you need some help.”
Diego leaned down and grabbed her around the shoulder and hauled her to her feet. Effortlessly she noted. No small feat for her one hundred and seventy pounds. He might have compared her to a scrawny rat, but she was far from it. Thanks to her family genes she was stocky at best and overweight at worst. And no diet in the world seemed to change that.
“Let me go,” she demanded, wrenching her arm free from his hold.
“No,” Diego said.
“Have fun little brother. Don’t forget to call if you need some help handling her.” Both men disappeared into the woods amidst guffaws and snickers. Whatever was so funny she didn’t understand.
“You can’t hold me like this. I have rights.”
He glared at her, the intensity in his eyes allowing some of her fear to get the better of her.
“You gave up your rights when you tried to shoot my brother.” Diego wrapped his hand around her arm just above the elbow and steered her in the direction his brothers had gone.
Handcuffed and having been divested of all of her primary weapons, even the small hunting knife she kept in her boot, she had no choice but to go with him and hope as time went on she’d discover a way to break free and then make these wolves pay.
“Why did you try to shoot him?”
“He’s a werewolf. Why wouldn’t I?”
“That’s a shitty answer.”
Allison shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
He stopped and hauled her close. So close there was barely a breath between them and she immediately felt his body heat. And his scent. It didn’t take supernatural anything to identify the woodsy outdoors mixed with the spice of his soap. It was a heady mix.
More than that. He was somehow screwing with her brain. She couldn’t exactly focus on anything but him and how good he felt this close to her.
She planted her hands on this chest and tried to push away. “Whatever you’re doing to me stop it. I don’t do wolves and getting inside my head won’t change that.”
“You don’t do wolves.” He repeated her statement very slowly and with a low growl behind it. “And how exactly am I getting in your head? I haven’t even begun to interrogate you.”
