Rescued by Her Wolves (Paranormal Werewolf Menage Steamy Romance) by Willow Wilde Page A
Authors: Willow Wilde
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sounded like it was right outside the truck. And it was loud.
I gazed at the stranger, who was looking over my shoulder with a terrified gaze in his eyes.
“Don’t…turn…around…” he told me through the glass. “If you turn around, that thing’s going to attack, and as soon as it gets through the glass…come towards me.” He waved his hands inwardly, keeping his eyes glued over my shoulder.
He could have been lying, but the sound – and the look in his eyes – told me to believe him. As the growl slowly emanated again, I kept my eyes glued to him, slowly creeping his way.
“That’s right…easy does it…just come towards me…” he murmured confidently. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”
I stopped at the door. “What now?” I whispered.
“Slowly, carefully , climb out,” he answered. “But do not look back.”
“ Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?” I hissed violently. “ I am NOT climbing out of this truck with something like that outside!”
“Look, lady, you’re going to have to trust me…you’ll be safe with me, I promise. But I need you to climb out, stay beside me , and don’t. Look. Back. ”
This entire scenario terrified me, but I did as he requested. Quietly, I popped the door open, climbing out to stand beside him, and closed the door behind myself. “Now what?”
“We need to go. Now. Take my hand.”
Hesitating, I finally put my hand in his, and we bolted from the truck into the trees. I stumbled around the bushes and underbrush as he effortlessly glided in front, pulling me through the darkness. I heard howling from behind, snarling, and unnatural footsteps, crashing through the foliage on our trail.
“Oh fuck!” I cried out as we ran. “What the shit is going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we’re safe!” The stranger told me, and we continued running. Cross-country had never quite been my strong suit, and by the time the house came into view, there was a tremendous stitch in my side. We clamored towards the steps and threw open the front door, and he bolted it shut behind us and flicked on the lights.
Whatever the animal was, I heard it bang against the door, scratching at the doorknob and generally losing its shit. After a few moments of silence, there was some dampening thumping as it wandered down the steps and, by the sounds of it, off into the night.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked.
“Did you see it?” He demanded, pulling close. “Did you turn to look at it?”
“No!”
His gaze locked onto mine, his eyes searching my own. “I…believe you. Good. That means you’re safe.”
“Safe from what? What the fuck was that thing?”
He smiled softly, which was odd, given the circumstances. “It was a werewolf.”
~
The stranger poured me a cup of coffee several minutes later, and I took the warm mug from his hands and gazed around the house. It was an old building. Looked as if it had been constructed in the 30s, maybe the 40s. Sparse décor lined the walls, with simple furniture around – a matching, old couch and loveseat in the living room, one of those huge projector box TVs dominating the living room wall near them, with minimal upholstery around. The dining room table looked handcrafted, and so did the chairs for that matter. A staircase along the back of the living room told me that the bedrooms were mostly on a second floor.
“A werewolf,” I finally repeated, taking my first sip.
“That’s right,” the stranger smiled. “Name’s Randall, by the way. The other two’ll be back soon – Rionn and Rosco are those lot. We’re brothers, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Bit of a pack mentality, you might call it. But anyway, who are you, trapped out in the woods this late at night?”
“My name’s Chloe,” I answered. “I was traveling back home after driving out to spend the week with some friends.”
“Oh
I gazed at the stranger, who was looking over my shoulder with a terrified gaze in his eyes.
“Don’t…turn…around…” he told me through the glass. “If you turn around, that thing’s going to attack, and as soon as it gets through the glass…come towards me.” He waved his hands inwardly, keeping his eyes glued over my shoulder.
He could have been lying, but the sound – and the look in his eyes – told me to believe him. As the growl slowly emanated again, I kept my eyes glued to him, slowly creeping his way.
“That’s right…easy does it…just come towards me…” he murmured confidently. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”
I stopped at the door. “What now?” I whispered.
“Slowly, carefully , climb out,” he answered. “But do not look back.”
“ Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?” I hissed violently. “ I am NOT climbing out of this truck with something like that outside!”
“Look, lady, you’re going to have to trust me…you’ll be safe with me, I promise. But I need you to climb out, stay beside me , and don’t. Look. Back. ”
This entire scenario terrified me, but I did as he requested. Quietly, I popped the door open, climbing out to stand beside him, and closed the door behind myself. “Now what?”
“We need to go. Now. Take my hand.”
Hesitating, I finally put my hand in his, and we bolted from the truck into the trees. I stumbled around the bushes and underbrush as he effortlessly glided in front, pulling me through the darkness. I heard howling from behind, snarling, and unnatural footsteps, crashing through the foliage on our trail.
“Oh fuck!” I cried out as we ran. “What the shit is going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we’re safe!” The stranger told me, and we continued running. Cross-country had never quite been my strong suit, and by the time the house came into view, there was a tremendous stitch in my side. We clamored towards the steps and threw open the front door, and he bolted it shut behind us and flicked on the lights.
Whatever the animal was, I heard it bang against the door, scratching at the doorknob and generally losing its shit. After a few moments of silence, there was some dampening thumping as it wandered down the steps and, by the sounds of it, off into the night.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked.
“Did you see it?” He demanded, pulling close. “Did you turn to look at it?”
“No!”
His gaze locked onto mine, his eyes searching my own. “I…believe you. Good. That means you’re safe.”
“Safe from what? What the fuck was that thing?”
He smiled softly, which was odd, given the circumstances. “It was a werewolf.”
~
The stranger poured me a cup of coffee several minutes later, and I took the warm mug from his hands and gazed around the house. It was an old building. Looked as if it had been constructed in the 30s, maybe the 40s. Sparse décor lined the walls, with simple furniture around – a matching, old couch and loveseat in the living room, one of those huge projector box TVs dominating the living room wall near them, with minimal upholstery around. The dining room table looked handcrafted, and so did the chairs for that matter. A staircase along the back of the living room told me that the bedrooms were mostly on a second floor.
“A werewolf,” I finally repeated, taking my first sip.
“That’s right,” the stranger smiled. “Name’s Randall, by the way. The other two’ll be back soon – Rionn and Rosco are those lot. We’re brothers, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Bit of a pack mentality, you might call it. But anyway, who are you, trapped out in the woods this late at night?”
“My name’s Chloe,” I answered. “I was traveling back home after driving out to spend the week with some friends.”
“Oh
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