The Wolf's Surrender. Kendra Leigh Castle

a window hung with sheer curtains in a shade of deep cream. A single, low dresser sat opposite her against the wall, an old-fashioned basin and pitcher resting on top of it. A small nightstand sat beside the bed, and the little clock on it put the hour at a little past 9:00 a.m. The walls of warm, honey-colored wood left no doubt she was in a log home, and on them someone (Jenner, she assumed) had hung a couple of photographs, gorgeous shots that had been blown up, matted and framed. They showed a forest, probably this forest, in full autumnal glory.

      As she looked around, Mia’s eyes lit on the weekend travel bag placed neatly on the floor beside the dresser. Her bag. Tears pricked her eyes as reality began to fully penetrate the protective cocoon she’d been wrapped in since last night. This was really happening.

      She’d done exactly what had always been expected of her: the worst.

      “You’ve the dark blood in you,” Grandmother Ada’s voice whispered in her mind, the rasp so familiar, so real that Mia shivered. “I knew it the instant you were born. Tainted. I warned your mother what your father was, but she wouldn’t listen, and look where it got them. My family’s light snuffed out, your parents’ lives lost, and only you to show for it. A little girl who’ll draw the shadows like flies to honey. They’ll break you, Mia, once I’m gone. And then you’ll break everything.”

      Mia closed her eyes against the tears and forced that awful voice back into the dark corner of her mind where it belonged. She was determined not to lose it now. If she was going to be dealing with a pack of werewolves today, at least she could do it without looking like an extra from Night of the Living Dead. At least Jeff was something the werewolves seemed to know how to hunt. The shadows in her grandmother’s warnings, always feared but never seen, were her problem. She’d just make sure to get out of here before they became anyone else’s.

      “I’ve managed so far,” Mia told herself in a bare whisper. “I can handle this. After last night, I can handle anything. No matter how weak anyone thinks I am.”

      And as she dug into her weekend bag, she almost believed it.

       Chapter 3

      Ten minutes later, Mia padded quietly down a short hallway, drawn by the delicious smells that had flooded her senses the instant she’d left the bedroom. Rich coffee, toasting bread, potatoes and eggs and bacon…it was easy to push her nerves into the background when she was positive she’d never smelled anything so heavenly. And she felt much better since she’d changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a simple, fitted V-neck sweater. Her hair had been de-knotted, and she’d been glad to find the gorgeous bathroom across from her room so she could brush her teeth. Tired of her itchy, driedout eyes, she’d opted to soak the contacts and had instead put on the geeky-chic glasses she favored for work. Thick woolen socks warmed her feet.

      It was, Mia figured, no time to try to be glamorous, not that she’d really packed for that sort of charade. She’d stupidly thought that Jeff had appreciated her being basically casual and earthy, the sort of girl who liked to run barefoot in fields and catch fireflies on lazy summer nights before dancing wildly under the moon.

      She really should have known better.

      Troubled by the way her thoughts kept circling around Jeff, Mia tried to concentrate on the mouth-watering smells wafting through the air and followed her nose into a room that opened clear to the peaked ceiling. As soon as she stepped into it, she forgot her nerves entirely.

      Before her was a wall of enormous windows, turning nearly the entire thing to glass. And just beyond, seeming to be a part of the room itself, was a forest ablaze with color. Crimson and gold, vibrant orange to deepest rust—the colors flooded her vision until they were all she could see. Though her job and her fears had long kept her bound to the anonymous city, Mia was possessed of a sudden, wild urge to dash into the waiting arms of the trees and just…run.

      Wow, she thought. Except she must have said it out loud, because the next thing she heard was his voice, deep, resonant, and just as gruff as she remembered, though now colored with a hint of amusement.

      “Thanks,” he said. “I’m partial to the woods, myself. Thought breakfast might get you up. Coffee?”

      Mia turned her head toward the sound, seeing the portion of the great room that had been turned into a kitchen. She saw gleaming marble in deep earth tones, glass-front cabinets, a scatter of containers and appliances that indicated the kitchen wasn’t just for show…and in the middle of all of it was Nick Jenner. Still bigger than life. Still simmering with the kind of latent sensuality that left her nerves raw and quivering.

      Damn it, he was even better-looking than she remembered. And he’d asked her something. Which she couldn’t seem to remember for the life of her.

      You wanted a way to get your mind off of Jeff, she reminded herself. Of course, she hadn’t wanted her brain to shut down completely, either.

      “Hi,” Mia said, and immediately wanted to cringe. Whatever he’d asked her, hi wasn’t an answer.

      Jenner lifted one eyebrow before turning to fiddle with something he had going on the stovetop. “Hi yourself. You feeling all right? Last time I checked the wound it was healing up well, but it could take a while for you to get your thoughts all the way back together.”

      He’d checked on her. Of course he had. Still, she was absurdly touched. People simply didn’t take care of her…that was her job. Mia breathed in deeply, forced herself to concentrate on forming a coherent answer. He was right…she did still feel a little scattered. But she couldn’t afford to stay that way for any length of time. She had a lot of questions that desperately needed answering. And goddess forbid she slip up and say something.

      “No, I’m fine,” she replied, and tried for a friendly smile. “Still a little foggy, but I think some coffee might help with that.”

      Which was what he’d asked in the first place, Mia realized. What a great impression she was making. She walked to stand at the edge of the kitchen, all while Jenner watched her with his intense eyes, more like a wolf’s than a man’s. He didn’t return her smile, but he didn’t look irritated by her presence, either.

      “Well, I’ve got plenty of coffee,” he finally said in his deep rumble of a voice. “Probably too much food, too, but I didn’t know what you’d like, so…” He trailed off with a nonchalant shrug that Mia found ridiculously attractive. “Cleaned out the pantry. Made a little of everything.”

      “Oh, I like everything,” Mia rushed out. “Eating everything, I mean. Er, but not all at once.” She wanted to die, Mia decided. Just lay right down on the floor and give it up. Her foot was already glued into her mouth. Maybe she could just choke on that.

      A slow, lazy smile curved up both corners of Jenner’s mouth and deepened the appealing little lines at the corners of his eyes. The bundle of nerves all knotted up in Mia’s lower belly seemed to tighten all at once.

      “Good,” he said, his amusement clear in his voice. “Try to eat a little more of everything all at once this morning, though. You’re going to need the energy.”

      “Yes, I guess I will,” Mia said, glad that he didn’t seem to think she was as ridiculous as she felt right now. She felt as skittish as a deer scenting a predator on the wind. It was both unfamiliar and unnerving. But there was something she needed to get out of the way before anything else was said this morning. She took a deep breath and plunged in.

      “Look, I want to say thank you,” Mia said. “For helping me. Your friends saved my life. And you took care of me. If there’s any way I can repay you…”

      Jenner’s eyes seemed to brighten as she trailed off, their strange honey-gold lighting with some inner fire for just an instant as he eyed her in a way that made heat spread from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. But before Mia could do more than register it, he had turned back to the eggs and was poking them with his spatula.

      “No need,” he said, his voice slightly