Heart of the Wolf
Nice.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “How about the ride home?”A loud chime, followed by several successive ones, saved her the trouble of trying to find a witty reply. Grabbing her phone from her purse, she saw multiple messages on her notifications as Maxine was blowing up her phone.
I’m here!
Where are you??
The VIP tables are empty!
The bartender said you left! Where did you go??
Rolling her eyes, she tapped off a quick message to Maxine telling her to stay put. “That’s my best friend. She’s looking for me.” She sighed. “I should get back to Blood Moon before she reports me missing or something. Can you give me a ride back there instead?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
They walked to his bike, and soon they were on the way back to Manhattan. She clung to him, not too tight, but she couldn’t help but enjoy herself as she closed her eyes, pressed up against his strong back, her cheek resting on the buttery soft leather of his jacket.
It seemed impossible, this whole scenario. Never in a million years would she have thought that she would feel so attracted to someone in an instant—and someone like Ransom. He was magnetic, and all she wanted to do was be near him all the time. Her wolf, too, growled with pleasure.
A gasp escaped her mouth, and it was a good thing she was clinging so tight to him or else she would have fallen off. This instant attraction … could it be possible that …
The bike slowed down, and the engine sputtering to a stop interrupted her thoughts. She mentally shook her head, though her stomach flipped excitedly at the thoughts that had raced through her mind.
“We’re here,” he announced.
Reluctantly, she let go of him and hopped off the bike. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked when he didn’t move.
He shook his head. “Not really my scene.”
“But you had already been in there,” she pointed out. “C’mon, I’ve got a table and bottle service.”
He chuckled. “It’s all right, princess, go ahead and meet your little friends. I’ll be fine.”
“But—” Her mouth snapped shut. Surely an older guy like him wouldn’t want to be around some whiny, clingy girl. Her wolf scratched at her, not happy at the developing situation. Cool your jets now. “All right. Do you have a phone?”
“A what?”
“Cellphone. You know, a little device you carry around where you can call—”
“Yeah, I got one.”
She held her hand out expectantly and raised a brow at him. His brows snapped together before realization hit him, and he handed her the device from his pocket. Tapping her number into the phone, she added herself as a contact on his phone, putting her name as “Isabelle Brooklyn Bridge” cheekily. “There,” she said as she gave him back the phone. “Text me if you plan to stick around New York.”
“Don’t you want my number?” he asked.
She grinned at him before turning on her heel and sashayed toward the entrance. Oh no, she didn’t text guys first. They texted her. And if her suspicions were true, then she wouldn’t have to wait too long for him to contact her.
Despite her she-wolf’s protests and whines, she managed to get back inside Blood Moon past the line of people waiting to get inside. Her cousin was already by the entrance, waiting for her.
“Isabelle!” Maxine’s shriek was loud enough to pierce the music filling the club. “Where have you been?”
Her body practically vibrated with excitement. “Oh, Maxine, you’ll never believe it …”
Chapter Two
What the fuck am I doing?
It was a question Ransom had asked himself repeatedly for the last sixteen hours as he rode continuously from Kentucky, stopping only for gas and food. Now, as he stopped in New Jersey for a quick break, he could see the Manhattan skyline across the Hudson, a sight he hadn’t seen in six months. So close, yet so far.
Manhattan. Home of the New York clan.
Growing up, even the thought of those people was enough to put him on edge. They were the ones to blame for where he was now. Or rather, who he was. And to think he’d never stepped foot in their territory until six months ago. Never wanted to.
But, for things to progress and move forward, it was a necessary evil. There was a plan in place, set in motion long ago.
A plan to get back at those who committed the atrocities that had forced him into this life.
A plan for revenge.
I should turn around.
His inner wolf, however, did not agree with that plan. It urged him to keep going, snapping at him each time he stopped or started to doubt himself.
“All right, all right,” he groused. “We’re here. You can stop yammering.”
The animal had been relentless over the last six months, ripping up at him. Restless. Uncontrollable. Sometimes inconsolable. Pops had definitely noticed that something was not right. “What the hell has gotten your wolf all riled up?” he had asked one day. Ransom had merely shrugged him off because how was he supposed to explain that nothing seemed right or normal anymore, not since he’d met her. Isabelle Brooklyn Bridge.
He could barely count the number of times he’d stared at that name in his phone, finger hovering over the screen, wondering if he should message or call her. At night, he’d close his eyes, imagining her soft, curvy body against his, her delicious sweet and spicy scent—honey and cardamom—tickling his senses, or those gorgeous mismatched blue and green eyes.
And those sweet, soft lips. Lips that made him hungry for more. The moment they locked gazes and he looked into her eyes, he knew he was in trouble. That’s why when she walked back into the club and away from him, he vowed to never contact her. But that didn’t help at all.
She was not part of the plan. He had to forget her.
Distance and time did nothing to quell his need for her. If anything, not being able to see, feel, or touch her made his hunger grow exponentially.