The Legend of the Werewolf by Mandy Rosko Page A

centered on her escape from the upcoming wedding. What
excuses could she give to Gordon, things she could do to make him
call off the wedding? How running away wasn’t an option.
    At the time, she’d been focused on getting
herself free, thinking in the back of her mind that when she was
out of the engagement, Westley would naturally follow. She figured
Gordon had to see that what he was doing to his son was
wrong.
    Right. Like that would’ve
happened.
    It made her angry, angry at herself that
it had taken so long for her to see the truth. She’d done virtually
nothing to help her best friend. Even if she got out of this mess,
he wouldn’t.
    “Don’t think of your friends much, do
you?”
    Wrong thing to
say.
    Anger boiled like bubbling acid. Her
fingernails grew long and sharp, biting the skin where she clenched
them as her teeth tingled and moved to become the incisors that
would mark her for what she was.
    Westley was known for his calm temper.
She, however, wasn't.
    A white light passed over her eyes,
followed by the blaring horn of a truck. She blinked her eyes and
shook away the instability that nearly took her. Her nails righted
themselves and the tingling in her teeth left her. The wolf went
back to the sleep.
    Mike stood firmly. She hadn’t seen him
rise from his seat. His fists were clenched, knees bent as though
ready to spring. Ready to fight.
    Another light from another car passed
over her eyes, its headlights illuminating the room better than the
light fixture on the ceiling ever could. Illuminating Mike’s
scowl.
    Her face heated with unbearable
shame.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “ You’re not very good at
controlling yourself. Might’ve been a mistake for your master to
put you with me.”
    Her eyes fell away from him, unable to
stand the scowl any longer. She couldn’t help her temper
sometimes.
    Outside another car passed, the lights
sweeping across the cabin. It parked with the other trucks and vans
outside of Gordon's house. Through the windows, she could see the
drivers and passengers all but hopping out and running to Gordon’s
door.
    Why were so many pack members suddenly
showing up?
    With a start, she realized they were here
for Mike.
    Why so many of them?
    It didn’t matter. The fact was that they
were here and it only left her a few minutes to tell him how sorry
she was for nearly tearing his head off, again.
    "God, I'm so sorry."
    She took a step towards him and he took
a step back. "Stay away from me."
    " I'm not dangerous ." That was the last thing she wanted
him to think. Not just because of what he could do for
her.
    "I'm not dangerous," she said again,
pleased with how even her voice was despite the hurricane of
emotions swirling inside her.
    His eyes were unforgiving, skeptical,
cop eyes. "That's the second time you became angry enough to nearly
lose it around me. You are dangerous."
    She crossed her arms. “Afraid of a
girl?”
    “ Only afraid of having to hurt
one in self-defense.”
    Lousy smart-ass.
    “Don’t pout.”
    “I’m not pouting!”
    More cars came, honking their horns as
they raced to get the last spaces in front of Gordon's
house.
    More were coming? Anne moved to the window
for a better look.
    Mike didn’t move, forcing her to step
around him. "What's going on out there?"
    He brushed her arm as he leaned down to
see out with her. Anne shivered and knew that their conversation
was over. "I'm betting they're here to see you."
    He shook his head as he eyed the scene.
Gordon was now out on his porch, surrounded by a sea pack mates. He
wouldn't let him take another step as they loudly questioned
him.
    He looked small and helpless in their
midst. Anne couldn’t remember having ever seen him like this.
Likely brought on by his own surprise at having his usually docile
subjects up in arms at him.
    His usual impatient visage returned as
he threw his hands into the air and pointed his finger in the
direction of their little cabin.
    Mike jerked away from the window,
pushing