Marked By the Wolf (Werewolf Romance) (5 page)

He smiled. "All of the above, and I am very much looking forward to the last one," he replied.

"Maybe I'm not," I countered. "Maybe I'm not going to accept you as my mate."

"Then I will still protect you from the Foundation," he insisted.

"What do they want with me, anyway? I'm one of you now," I pointed out.

"But you are not an official member, and a werewolf who isn't a member is more dangerous than a human who knows of their existence," he explained. "A human can be disbelieved and even silenced, but a werewolf can wreak havoc on the human populace and bring attention to our existence."

"So let me get this straight. I was going to be fodder for them at the Foundation banquet and you bit me to save me because you what? Fell in love with me at first sight?" I guessed.

"At first scent, but continue," he corrected me.

"Uh-huh, at first scent. So I escape and they know I'm a werewolf somehow-"

"The trail you left told them you had been attacked by one of us, but they haven't isolated the scent. There were too many of us in the room to get a definite smell," he told me.

"And now they want me to become a member in their murderous organization or what?"

He frowned. "Or be killed."

I rolled my eyes. "So it's either membership in a death cult or death? Being a werewolf is worse than being in a sorority," I quipped.

"I will help you make the transition as smooth as possible. That's why I'm taking you to your new home," he told me.

"My new home?" I glanced out the window and saw we were in an older part of the city. The tall skyscrapers were far behind us, and all around us stood ancient homes with lawns larger than football stadiums. The lawns were surrounded by tall brick walls and accessed via iron-barred gates. Treetops could be seen over the walls, and I glimpsed the pointed roofs of Victorian mansions and copies of medieval castles.

Roger turned into the driveway of one of the grounds and stopped in front of a black wrought-iron gate. He pressed a button on the dash and the gate opened to allow admittance. We pulled through the gate and I glimpsed a large green lawn filled with fruit and shade trees. The gravel driveway wound its way through the lawn to a large Tudor-style mansion complete with stone and wood exterior. Vines supported by lattice covered many of the walls, and bushes surrounded the base of the home.

Roger stopped the vehicle in front of the large double doors. The stranger gently took my hand and opened the door. We stepped out and he stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders. "Welcome to your new home," he whispered.

I looked over the extreme signs of wealth and a goofy grin slid onto my lips. It looked like things weren't going to be completely awful as a werewolf.

For all books by Mac Flynn
visit her Smashwords author's page

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