Chapter 2 of Wolf Shield

Start reading this Paranormal Romance featuring a curvy FMC and a Big Bad Wolf today!

📖 Ready? Chapter 2 of Wolf Shield

Before she could think to run or move at all, the strange-looking man ripped her purse right out of her hands and tossed it on the ground behind him.

Shit. Her keys were still inside the bag. Sure she knew there was always a chance of violence happening to a woman alone at night, she’d even read about an increase in muggings in town, but she’d never imagined it could happen to her.

She straightened her back, Fergie wasn’t about to play the victim. Not for anyone. Cupping her hand around the lipstick tube she’d managed to grab, she addressed the would-be muggers as she’d been taught in her self-defense class back when she was still in school.

“Look, just take the bag, and leave me alone,” she said in a firm voice.

“Well, now boys, we got ourssssselves a feisssssty one,” the largest attacker hissed his words.

Fergie’s eyes darted from one to the next. This was so not going to end in her favor. She squeezed the tube of lipstick, holding it as if it were a lifeline. Fergie was in trouble and she knew it.

Oh well, she might as well go down swinging. Fergie lifted her hand around the tube of lipstick in a defensive position.

“Stand back! I’ve got pepper spray!” she lied, and the three of them laughed.

Rude! She narrowed her eyes at the three hulking men. This was not going to end well.

“Good, I like ’em sssssspicy,” one of them said.

“First of all, you guys need to see a speech therapist. And maybe a dermatologist, too. I can help you find one. I am good at finding things. Just let me grab my phone,” she took a step towards her purse, but one of the three blocked her path.

Whoa. She didn’t even see him move. Something was not right here. Fergie backed up a step, watching in horror as vertical lids flicked over that assailant’s eyes.

Like Jessenia’s pet lizard’s eyes, she whimpered. Panic set in. These dudes were so not normal. Fergie dropped her lipstick, ignoring the snickers of another of the trio.

“What the h-hell?” she stuttered.

Okay, Fergie maybe spent a lot of her time daydreaming with her head buried in books or scouring websites for info when she was between jobs. It was one of her vices, or so people said. Personally, she didn’t see the problem with being a closet-nerd.

She just loved to read. Still, never in all the time she’d spent looking up facts and studying lore, had she ever thought to come face to face with any of the wacky creatures in her books and websites.

She clenched her jaw, this was real. Her own eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. These men were not human.

“Oh, ssssweeetie, you’ll hurt our feelings,” the third one inched closer, “we jusssst want a tasssste.”

“You can just back the hell up!” she held up her hand in a feeble attempt to ward off the brute, “What the hell are you guys?” she asked again.

“You’re about to find out,” the biggest of the three reached out and grabbed her arm.

He pulled and Fergie, being herself, slid on the slick asphalt. To keep from toppling forward, she had no choice but to grab onto her attacker with her free hand. When she looked down, she saw with growing horror that his skin was covered with green mottled scales and he was oozing some kind of slime. But that wasn’t what made her scream, it was the long, gnarly claws that tipped his freakishly, strong hands.

“Ouch,” Fergie pulled back from him, shifting her weight too fast in her high heels.

She fell backwards, landing on her ass, which of course, made her scream again. The asphalt was uneven and damn it, it was hard too. It stung even her plump bottom, but that still didn’t hurt as much as the three long scratches on her forearm.

“I’m bleeding!” she shrieked once she realized he broke skin.

Red droplets welled up from the laceration and she suddenly felt woozy. She looked up and was confused. The giant reptile-man who’d just attacked her was flying.

Wait, not flying exactly. He was being lifted into the air, and, ooh, tossed away like the piece of trash he was! But what if whoever just attacked him was coming after her next? Fergie swallowed down her next scream and found the source of her assailant’s sudden airborne abilities.

Holy hotness. She stole a quick glance at the man, all six and a half feet of him, that stood in a defensive position in front of her. The hiss of her remaining attackers had her eyes darting to them, but the resounding snarl coming from her rescuer brought it back to him.

Up and up she looked to search out the source of that ferocious sound. She wanted to see his face, to look into his eyes to determine if he was friend or foe. Fergie had to work to ignore the warm feeling that grew deep in the pit of her stomach as she first took in the pair of large, muddy boots.

Those were followed by big, strong calves, and thick, muscular thighs encased in tight denim. She bit her tongue, glancing over the impossibly large bulge beneath the stranger’s fly, and allowed her gaze to travel even further up. She noted with giddy pleasure the rock hard abs, defined pecs, and bulging arms that were outlined to perfection in the thin white cotton t-shirt he wore.

Finally, she got a look at her hero’s face. Fergie almost swallowed her tongue as her eyes met the glittering sapphire stare of the hottest guy she’d ever seen. Dark, short-cropped curls crowned his head, complete with a smattering of facial hair that seemed to thicken before her eyes. A trick of the light no doubt, but it was his rough-hewn features that made him all the more mouthwatering.

The stranger seemed to growl at her, but she was positive he wasn’t hostile. Somehow, she knew he was there to help. Just like she knew out of all the men there, he was the deadliest.

“Are you okay?” he growled, and she nodded in turn.

Knowing he was on her side made her tingle all over. No, Fergie wasn’t scared of him. He was definitely stronger, rougher, and tougher than those other guys, and that knowledge warmed her further still. The stranger nodded once at her, his eyes glowing in the darkness. Nope, frightened was not the word she would use to describe her reaction to the man.

Turned on. Lustful. Okay, plain old horny were all better words for what she was feeling. His nostrils flared slightly, and his gaze dropped to her blouse where her hardened nipples were surely visible through the light cream-colored fabric.

Damn girl. This was so not the right time for her headlights to be on and her panties to grow damp. The heated look lasted for only a flash, but in that brief moment he’d managed to take her in from top to bottom in a way that made her want to climb up his mountain of a body and take him for a ride.

Yowza. She had never had such a knee-jerk reaction to a man before. Never felt this kind of sudden and fierce attraction to one. It was like her body recognized him as its master and was demanding some attention.

What the hell was going on? Fergie shook her head and his gaze returned once more to where her wound was now full-on bleeding.

Oh, great. More blood. She felt dizzy as she watched the red liquid pool and drip down to her lap. Her skirt sucked up the droplets, turning the smart khaki into a muddy color in the darkness. Fergie felt nauseous, but before she could give in to that unpleasant sensation, her attention snapped back to him.

Her hero’s eyes seemed to glow even brighter than before. A trick of the light, maybe? Then a louder, more menacing snarl ripped from his throat and she gasped in surprise. That sound was not altogether human. She cried out a warning just as the stranger turned lightning quick to meet the oncoming lunge of the remaining two goons.

“Watch out!”

Fergie remained frozen in place on the ground. She was in shock, she realized. Or at least she was until one of the men landed right next to her and reached for her heel clad foot.

“Oh, no you don’t, these are Christian Louboutin’s,” she grumbled and kicked at the man’s green tinted hand, “do you have any idea how many days I went without lunch to buy these!”

She kicked at him again but missed as he seemed to float out of reach. Like his buddy before him, green-boy here floated up and tossed away from her before she could connect. Too bad. She really wanted to kick his ass for ruining her outfit.

She didn’t have time to reflect on that as two firm hands suddenly wrapped around her arms. Fergie squealed at the sudden appearance of a pony-tail wearing man. He pulled her to the side and squatted down.

“Miss,” he nodded his head, “I think we better get you out of here,” he picked her up off the ground.

Fergie hardly had time to catch a breath before the large man stood her on her feet and shoved her behind him. He’d moved so fast, she hardly noticed it. Taller than her rescuer, but not as muscular, and not as devastatingly gorgeous in her opinion.

Still, he seemed to be protecting her. He backed up a step, and she did the same, reaching out to hold his arm as her heels slid again on something she’d rather not think about.

Her rescuer had beaten the stuffing out of those three punks. Like literally.

There were copious amounts of blood, not hers, ooze, a few actual teeth, and other crap on the pavement. She backed up another step and squeaked as she slid again. Fergie squeezed pony-tail man’s arm tighter.

The other man whom she thought of as her rescuer turned around at the sound. Having pummeled the last of the three assailants into dust, he was now free to come over and introduce himself. Or so she hoped.

Fergie wanted to whoop with joy! She was so happy to have gotten out of the whole thing relatively unscathed, and all thanks to him.

Can you say swoon? Fergie waited for him to meet her stare so she could thank him, but his focus seemed to be on where her hand gripped the other man’s arm. Letting go as if she’d been burned, she swallowed down the odd sensation of guilt that suddenly filled her.

“Storm, now listen up, cump, I just got her out of the way. I didn’t do a thing to her,” the man who’d picked her up off the ground had both his hands in the air as if in surrender, and she could certainly see why.

Her rescuer had steam coming out of his ears. Okay, not steam, but he seemed to be smoking. Again, literally, and she meant that in its correct sense, not the modern way of misusing and abusing the word.

Actual tendrils of black and gray smoke seemed to surround his body, and that wasn’t all. Electric blue lights glowed and circled his hands.

“Um, what’s going on?” she swallowed nervously.

“Storm, man, I swear,” pony-tail tried again.

All that begging didn’t help much. Her rescuer seemed to blink from the place he’d been standing to the space directly in front of her. He growled fiercely and drew back his bloodied fist, socking pony-tail man right in the face, while snarling a word that suspiciously sounded like mine.

Dizzy from her ordeal and from having the person she was leaning on so abruptly removed from her grasp, Fergie blinked rapidly as he turned to catch her. He wasn’t a lizard, but he was surely something else. Something other, she thought definitively.

His eyes glowed like little blue lasers and long fangs appeared when he opened his mouth. He was a bit furrier than before. His beard appeared thicker, and his once short, curly hair, longer now than it had been when she’d first spied the sexy warrior.

That wasn’t right. No, it was more than not right. It was impossible. A wave of dizziness swept over her, more than she should’ve felt from the minor blood loss. Her rescuer tightened his hold on her arms.

The last few minutes had been the craziest in her entire life. Maybe she needed a moment for her brain to catch up. Fergie held her spinning head with one hand and tried to catch her breath.

“Easy,” the stranger’s deep whisper sent chills through her body.

He released her slowly and held his hand out, his claw-tipped hand, in case she stumbled. Eyes wide, Fergie stared at the sharp looking appendage. The man frowned and closed his fist to hide his nails, but it was too late. She wobbled unsteadily, and he raised his hand once more. This time, she squeaked.

“Sorry about that, it’s just my Wolf. He is still agitated,” he grumbled the explanation, but all she heard was the word wolf.

“I’m sorry, what?” she stopped and looked at him dead on.

“My Wolf,” he repeated.

“Ooh-kayy,” she knew her eyebrows were somewhere up in her hairline, but what else could she say.

Dizziness hit her again, and she blinked her eyes. Shit. This had never happened to her. Oh hell.

“Um, Mr. Wolf?” she cleared her throat.

“Yes,” he said one eyebrow quirked.

“I think, I’m gonna,” but that was all she got out before blackness swallowed her.

Well, damn.