To make things worse, shifters have been disappearing from Last Chance, and a killer is stalking Sin. When the situation starts to heat up, it's gonna take every resource the two of them can muster to keep Sin alive!
Sitting in the old, wooden porch swing, enjoying the cacophony of animal sounds surrounding the cabin, Sin settled the icy glass against her cheek, closing her eyes with pleasure. Her skin felt heated, flushed, and the cool breezes sliding through the forest did little to soothe it. She’d been even more jumpy than usual since arriving at the cabin. Actually, since running into Crevan Dakota on the ferry.
To distract herself, she’d made a start on expelling two years of dust and debris from the cabin. She’d washed the bedding and remade the lumpy bed in the cabin’s single bedroom. And she’d spent some time walking around, just touching her Granna’s things.
She especially savored the little fox figurines Granna had created from the abundant wood surrounding her little haven. Sin’s fingers had slipped reverently over the small, carved figures, the painted wood coats still bright despite years of neglect. As she’d done when she was just a child, she marveled at the way her Granna had brought the tiny figures to life beneath her carving knife and paintbrush.
It was as if Granna could put herself inside the fox. Feel what the animal felt. Her Granna’s love of the small, stunning arctic fox was well known. Sin’s favorite childhood memory was the time she’d come to spend the summer at the cabin and had walked inside to find a large cage by the fireplace. Inside, a gorgeous white vixen growled, a swarm of tiny kits suckling at her belly.
The event had been the impetus for the carving Sin currently clutched in her hand. Her Granna had made the tiny kit for her the next day, presenting it as a memento of that summer. Sin had never let it out of her sight. In fact, she’d had it set into a necklace that she only took off when she showered or swam.
She caressed the carving with her thumb. It was so lifelike. The tiny fox sat on its haunches, its tiny ears perked inquisitively and its dark eyes filled with life.
The beautifully carved figurine was all she had left of her Granna.
That, and a rustic cabin in the middle of an Alaskan forest. A cabin in dire need of repair. She looked up at the peeling paint of the porch ceiling above her head and took note of the cracked window that looked out over Last Chance Creek from the small kitchen.
She sighed. At least with all the cleaning and repairs she’d be too busy to think about the changes crawling around inside her body.
The shadows on the other side of the wide creek split apart and a long, low-slung body glided toward the creek. As if conjured from her thoughts, the wolf stopped suddenly and looked up, seeming to catch her gaze.
She sucked in a breath, marveling at the size and beauty of the animal. From where she sat, it looked to be at least four feet tall at the shoulders and around two hundred pounds.
The moon caressed the large creature, tipping the dense, black fur in silver.
Sin was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, for fear the wolf would run away. But it didn’t seem inclined to run. In fact, it settled onto its haunches and stared at her for a moment, the vibrant eyes focused on her with frightening intensity.
She knew she should fear him, but somehow she didn’t. She felt as if she recognized him.
Him? How did she know it was a male?
A memory tried to surface but she wasn’t able to pull it forward. Maybe she’d seen the wolf when she’d been there before? As soon as she had the thought she realized it was unlikely. There couldn’t be many wolves of that size in the whole state. Surely she’d never laid eyes on one before. She would have remembered it.
But the wolf across the creek certainly seemed interested in her.
Run?
Sin jerked. Where had that thought come from? Her stomach tightened and burned. Her skin crawled with heat.
Run?
The single word scalded her, rippled across her awareness like fire. Before she knew what she was doing, she stood up, placing the glass on the softly swaying swing.
The wolf stood too, its tail twitching as she started toward the creek.
Sin’s heart was beating so fast she felt faint. Her palms were wet, her mind racing with all the things that could go wrong, considering what she was about to do.
But she couldn’t seem to stop her feet from moving forward. And suddenly she was running.
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