Forever Werewolf

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“I—”

“You pack wolves are all alike.” He stood and kicked the toe of his boot against the stone step to shake off the packed snow, and to avert his growing anger. “You’re all so tightly knit and exclusive. New guy comes along and you feel threatened.”

“I didn’t say that I’m threatened by you. Nor did I say—”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He stomped up the steps, knowing if he didn’t leave her now he’d only give her a real growl. And he would never do that to a pack leader’s daughter. Any woman, for that matter.

Wow. She’d just strummed his chords and what an awful tune.

“I’m going to find something to eat, then get back to work shoveling out your pretty little castle, Miss Princess Trueblood.”

So maybe he didn’t have as good a handle on this challenge as he’d thought.

“Arrogant idiot,” Lexi muttered after the angry wolf who stomped inside. “The vampire thing definitely rubs him the wrong way.”

And rightly so, she figured. Vamps and wolves had been at odds for centuries. They honored an ineffable ceasefire at the moment, but there weren’t a lot of wolves who would embrace a vampire as friend. Her father was friends with Trystan’s father, Rhys Hawkes, but it was more a political relationship than an embraceable acceptance.

For good reason. Wolves didn’t go near vamps because if bitten by a vampire the wolf would develop an insatiable bloodlust, and werewolves did not drink blood or feed on humans. Ever. It was an abominable practice. And vampires avoided wolves because they knew the wolf was stronger and could beat the crap out of them with one fist tied behind their backs.

So a young werewolf who had been born of a vampiress and a half-breed couldn’t possibly be full-blooded wolf. Why did he believe that?

Of course, if he hadn’t a hunger for blood perhaps that led Trystan to such a belief. But the blood hunger could emerge anytime. Lexi knew well that, genetically, things didn’t always go as nature had intended in a wolf’s body.