There was the familiar, bitter copper tang of blood on his tongue, but he felt good. Powerful. Alive. The full moon was up—and he was still a man. What had he done? The last thing he remembered was feeling the Change coming on and fleeing Nicodemus Frost’s house for the cave, where he could chain himself up. Either he hadn’t made it or someone had let him out. The blood in his mouth… By Artemis, what had he done? He looked down, checking for the source of the blood, horrified he was going to find himself covered with it and what used to be a person. But the only thing he was covered with was a naked Fury. Instead of a crimson splash, the silver-gold of her hair spilled over his chest and she was curled into him as if he were the safest place in the world. Both of their feet were caked in dark earth and flickers of memories erupted in his brain. Meg coming to the cave. Sucking him off. Fucking him. Running from him. But not in fear. Laughing. Taunting his beast to chase her—and chase it did.
