Page 39 of Howl Will I Know

Her fingers push into my hair, and she rolls her hips once.

“Fuck.”

The word is lost against her mouth.

Nora makes a soft, breathless sound that goes straight through me. My mouth leaves hers and follows the line of her jaw. Her head tips back, exposing her throat.

Pale skin.

Fast pulse.

My mouth waters. My teeth ache. The need to bite hits so hard that I stop breathing.

Mark.

Claim.

The instinct is absolute.

I jerk back.

Nora catches herself against the counter, startled. “Hewit?”

I drag both hands through my hair and force distance between us. “You need to go.”

Her expression hardens. “No. Not after that.”

My gaze catches on her throat before I can stop it.

Her fingers rise to the place my mouth almost touched. “What just happened?”

I can’t tell her. Not when I don’t know what the bite would do. Not when all I am is instinct and claiming and the possibility that some things can’t be undone.

“I nearly lost control.”

Nora studies me before shaking her head. “No. You didn’t. You stopped.”

“Barely. You don’t understand what almost happened.”

“Then explain it.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

Frustration flashes across her face, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she picks up her mug and carries it to the sink. Then she scoops the empty plate off the table and her cardigan off the back of the chair and walks past me without a word.

At the door, she turns back. “I’m going because you asked me to, not because I’m frightened of you. And I’m not pretending that didn’t happen.”

“Nora—”

“You keep hoping I’ll make this easier by deciding you’re too much trouble.” She opens the door, and her gaze stays on mine for another second. “Bad luck.”

Then she leaves.

I stand in the kitchen, listening to her footsteps fade across the grass. The wolf strains after her. So do I. For years, I’ve blamed him for every instinct I didn’t want to examine. Every growl, every shift, every reason I gave myself for staying away from everyone.