Taming Her Heart by Marisa Chenery Page A

them.
    “Tell me you did not just cut me with a fucking sword,” the werewolf spat.
    Dolf frowned. “Ah, yeah, I did. It’s what I do.”
    “So you go around jabbing it into innocent people, whenever you feel like it?”
    Now, this was getting downright weird. “I’d hardly call you innocent. You’re a werewolf.”
    The other man sniffed the air. “By your scent, I’d say you are too.”
    It was Dolf’s turn to scowl. “I’m nothing like you. I can shift into werewolf form, but I’m one of the Anglo-Saxon god’s warriors.”
    “A god? You expect me to believe that shit?”
    Dolf was really confused now. “Are you playing some kind of a game to delay the inevitable? All the members of your pack know about me and my fellow warriors. You consider us the bad guys, because we kill as many of your kind as we can. It’s our job to protect mortals from Fenris’ get. And the best way to do that is to end your existence.”
    The werewolf shook his head. “I haven’t a fucking clue what you’re talking about. I don’t know about any pack. I’ve been on my own.”
    “How can you be? When was your first shift?”
    “Two nights ago.”
    Dolf gave the werewolf a direct look. “You should’ve been drawn to the pack’s den by instinct, after you were bitten. Then, on the night of the first full moon, you shift, while another pack member takes you out and watches over you as you claim your first victim.”
    “You mean, kill someone?”
    He nodded. “Yes. That’s what your kind live and breathe for—bloodlust and death.”
    “No, man,” the werewolf said as he shook his head in denial. “No fucking way. I don’t want to kill anyone, though the idea of hunting down a rabbit, or even a deer, doesn’t sound too bad. But not people. Never that.”
    Dolf felt as if everything he’d ever known about werewolves sired by Fenris went straight out the window. This newly turned didn’t match what one should be like. And the fact he hadn’t found the pack had Dolf wondering if it were no longer together. The night he and his fellow warriors had rescued Maggie, they’d learned the werewolves had become divided. Not all of them had liked Stephen being the leader.
    He scratched his head. Dolf believed him. The werewolf didn’t show the typical aggression associated with his kind. Looking into his eyes, Dolf didn’t see the soul of a killer, either. “If that’s the case, I have to admit I haven’t a clue what to do with you. My gut is telling me you aren’t like the others.”
    “Then let me just walk away.”
    Dolf shook his head. “I can’t do that. You’re still a threat to mortals. You might not go around killing them, but one bite from you will turn them.”
    The werewolf held up his hands as if to hold Dolf off. “I’m not going to do that. You have my word.”
    “Shit,” Dolf said under his breath. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take the werewolf’s life just because of what he was. If Dolf did, it would make him no better than the beasts he hunted each night. He trusted his gut, and it usually wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but he didn’t see any alternative. “What’s your name?”
    “Chris.”
    “I’m Dolf. Well, Chris, I think you need to come with me. I can’t leave you running around loose, especially if you’re going around lurking in bushes.”
    “I wasn’t doing that.” Chris gave him a sheepish look. “I-I was hiding.”
    “From what?”
    “You. You smell like a werewolf. I don’t know how the hell I know that, I just do. The encounter I had with the one who attacked me was more than enough.”
    Dolf shook his head in disbelief. “It’s called instinct, Chris. And it goes to show you can’t be left to your own devices. Let’s go.”
    “Where?”
    “Nowhere bad. I have to bring you to someone who’ll have the final decision about your fate.”
    Chris backed up a few steps. “Ah, I really don’t like the sound of that—deciding