The Wolf's Surrender - By Kendra Leigh Castle Page 0,2

solid beneath her, was oddly comforting. She would rather the earth held her than the monster.

Jeff’s face contorted with raw fury before he vanished with a single inhuman roar, his figure already lengthening and changing as he rushed past her into the yawning darkness beyond. And then there were other voices, surrounding her as the world began to swim again. Humans, after all. Relief coursed through her. But it died, a short, brutal death as she looked up into eyes that glowed as bright as the moon. And no amount of willpower could convince her that she was imagining it. Not anymore.

“Just hang on,” someone said. “We’ve got you now.”

I hope that’s a good thing, she thought faintly. I really do.

Then, blissfully, reality finally went dark.

Chapter 1

If there was one thing you could count on, it was that things always got weird right before a full moon. Still, Jenner held out hope, month after month, that there would come a night when his fellow creatures of the night would collectively behave themselves.

Tonight was not that night.

You’re gonna want to get over here, Jenner. We’ve got a biter.

“Hell.” Nick Jenner gave a low growl and shoved away from the pool table, where he’d been about to make the shot that would relieve a couple of his pack mates of twenty bucks. Dex’s voice had sounded loud and clear in his head, and there was no mistaking the urgency in the message. Being able to communicate telepathically with the other members of his pack came in handy, and it sure beat walkie-talkies, but there was also no hiding from it when you didn’t want to be bothered. Especially when you were your pack’s Lunari, second only to the Alpha in both power and responsibility, and said Alpha was giving you a dirty look from across the room.

Bane was linked in to the conversation, of course. He always was. Jenner gave him a sharp nod.

I’m on it.

Bane nodded back, then returned his attention to the pretty blonde who probably had no idea she was being hit on by a werewolf, much less one who headed up one of the larger packs in this part of the country.

No way would he ever want to be an Alpha, Jenner thought as he headed out the door. He couldn’t stand to have all those voices yammering away in his head all the time. He liked Bane, though he was an ornery bastard...hell, probably because of it...but running herd on all the Blackpaw in the area was a deeply unappealing thought. For one thing, it meant having to talk to people. A lot of people. And often.

Being what basically amounted to captain of the guard could be a pain, but Jenner would take the hunt-and-chase any day over all of that talking. His opinion was often asked for, and given, in private, but he much preferred being the silent half of the pack’s leadership in public. Diplomacy had never been his strong suit. Fighting, on the other hand...well, it turned out he had quite a knack for that. And being a werewolf meant having some interesting things to fight on a regular basis, if you wanted your pack to continue to exist.

His father, pampered and entitled, would be horrified if he knew the full truth of it. Actually, he was horrified enough at the little he did know about his oldest son’s life. The thought made Jenner smile.

On my way, he thought, giving it the little mental push he’d learned quickly after his own life-changing bite years before. Instantly, he felt a flash of Dex’s relief, and sighed irritably. If Dex was twisted up about it, it couldn’t be good.

Goddamn biters. It had been quite a while since the last one, which was good considering all the other crap he had to deal with out in the woods. There had been a lot more activity lately, a bad sign, though the shadows had started up and then quieted down just as everyone got really jumpy many times before. But Jenner knew his luck couldn’t hold forever. He just hoped that the woods were clear of any other annoyances tonight. Last night’s hunt should have cleared those blood-sucking shadows out for a day or two, at least.

Jenner paused just outside the door of Rowdy’s, the small, ramshackle bar that was a pack favorite on weekends. He inhaled deeply, his sensitive nose painting him a mental picture of everything going on in the area. The air, faintly damp and