It's a Wolf Thing by Mina Carter & Chance Masters Page A

Not in the barracks. There were repercussions for werewolves who couldn’t keep their shit together, and all of them involved a chat with the General or her bulldog, Jon.
    Spence took a deep breath and let it trickle out of his lungs. His eyes shifted around the room until he found a photo of him and Cain. It took the edge out of his anger.
    “Take care of her for me Spence…”
    Cain’s last words before he died on some nameless, god-forsaken, blood-soaked battlefield in the ass end of nowhere. Fuck. Take care of her. Was he mad? Of course he was. With the conflicting emotions running through him, he was fucking insane, and he had every right to be.
    Not only had he promised to protect her, he…he was her friend. Just a friend. The word rolled through his mind like a curse. Fucking friend zoned when all he wanted to do was…
    His heart rate kicked up again as images of what he wanted to do to Dale played through his mind. The imagery looped in an endless litany of eroticism he’d kept locked up tight in a small box in the bottom of his mind. It was all he could do. If he let them out of the box too much, he’d never be able to stand next to the woman on the battlefield and fight.
    No, he wasn’t surprised. He’d kept it in, suppressed, and refused to let a hint of the turmoil locked away within show…until he’d seen her all dressed and prettied up. He’d always known she was a knockout. He’d lost count of the number of fights he’d had in the barracks when some ass made a comment about her. Even in her battle gear, she was something special. But in that red dress…she was something else. Spence dropped his head back and groaned as his cock punched to full mast again.
    Great, just fucking great. He’d only just gotten the damn thing to go down.
    He sank his clawed hand into the mattress and peeled it off the wall with a huff. As it dropped into place, he fell on it and propped himself on his elbows. He hadn’t realized just how frustrated—pent up—he was. With the General it was always battle, battle, battle. How that woman could carry on like a machine was beyond him. As he reached down to undo his boots, something caught his eye. He paused and redirected his focus to the foreign object.
    “The fuck?”
    He grabbed the broken frame and lifted it. There was something underneath, but he didn’t recall tucking anything back there. He turned it over to reveal a green key card. A frown on his face, he plucked it out and turned it over his fingers to examine it.
    “The hell is going on?”
    He glanced around, the sensation that he was being watched digging in between his shoulder blades. His claws and fangs erupted, out and ready. Some of the demons were good at infiltration. They’d lost an entire barrack last month.
    His eyes washed black, and his senses climbed through the roof, but he couldn’t smell or hear anyone. No traces of foreign scents. He glanced back to the key. It had just…appeared there. There was just one group he knew of that was capable of manifesting stuff like this.
    The Fae.
    “Key card…” His eyes widened. “Oh.”
    He’d heard the rumors of course, and they were interesting ones. It was some sort of weird morale initiative the General had arranged with the Fae, since not all of them were good as front-line fighters. They were adept with magic though, so instead of fighting they dealt with healing spells, fire spells…and matchmaking. As far as he knew, a green card was an indication they’d found you a match and an invitation in one go. His eyebrow winged up as he ran the key card through his fingers again.
    He was paired up with someone for a night, huh? It’d certainly take his mind off Dale being with someone else. And who knew, maybe he’d find someone he could spend some time around more often. That was looking ahead a bit though.
    He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Why hadn’t he just asked her out? He’d have saved himself a wrecked room and