Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

The fortune she thought she was owed.

The sister she’d killed to get it.

I should’ve killed her, I knew that now.

What was one more stain? It wasn’t like I’d ever been clean.

So many…so many people had died because I was a stupid kid. And I knew that. All my life I’d known that. I’d carried that burden with me every goddamn day. Felt its shackles around my wrists and its weight on my shoulders. It altered the way I thought, the way I breathed, this ever-present ache that never lightened. Like walking on a bed of nails.

The only time I’d ever managed to truly forget was when I was with Mutt.

When he dragged me into his—or my—bed. When he jerked me over the long line of his body, let me lay my head on his pillowy chest, and listen to the steady thump of his heartbeat. When he held me close and tight, grabbed the back of my neck, and pinned me where I was safe and happy and cared for.

Where I belonged.

Not because I had to—but because he simply…wanted me.

Wanted me the way no one ever had.

“Sometimes I wish you were a wolf,” Mutt had said once. “Not because you aren’t perfect the way you are—because you are. But because I think…if you could scent how I feel about you—if you could feel the way my heart beats when you’re around. If you could hear my truths, I could make you happy.”

Mutt was safe. He was warm.

He was bright enough to chase away my shadows.

And I…trusted him.

I trusted him to keep me safe. From everything that haunted and hurt me—and from myself too. He’d saved me more times than I could count.

And now I wanted to save him.

I wanted to keep him.

I wanted to live for a future I’d never known I’d have.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified.

Because now…now there was something new to lose. Someone new. And part of me condemned myself for allowing these feelings to grow at all—but I…I couldn’t regret him. Even if this hurt. Even if I failed. Even if all I had were memories.

At least now I had good ones.

Feeling sick and sluggish, I tore my clothes off and slid inside the shower stall. Nightmares still festered in the back of my mind. Nightmares of a world where there was no more cuddling, no more laughter, no more wagging tails.

Nightmares about losing Mutt entirely.

Nightmares about living a life without him.

I hadn’t had time to settle yet. Usually the hot water helped, but right now it just…hurt. I couldn’t seem to get my hands to stop shaking while I gingerly twisted the shower knob and squeezed my eyes shut tight as the pipes wheezed into action. You had to baby the damn thing. Pull too hard and the handle would pop right off.

The pipes sputtered, and with a rush of heat, a torrent of water was let loose. It pounded harshly against my body, boiling my skin as water drops skittered across my shoulders. I hissed out a breath, focusing on the bright bursts of pain. They grounded me enough in the present that Lydia’s voice didn’t feel quite so loud as I clenched my teeth tight and willed the panic that had been stalking me all day to subside.

Think about something else.

I needed a distraction, and my bacon-chip-eating house guest was the perfect candidate. Werewolves kept their secrets close. And I’d yet to find one fucking usable thing that would work to give Mutt more time.

One of Lydia’s buddies had once told me that werewolves peed on their mates to mark their territory. I really, really hoped that wasn’t true. The same guy had gotten himself killed trying to lure a group of goblins out of a cave using a pack of firecrackers and imitation gold, so really—it was probably wise to ignore anything he’d said.

It was unfortunate that I knew more about their peeing habits than how to save Mutt.