Synopsis
Talia decides to break into a vet's house. It's not exactly stealing, she tells herself. After all, she is getting the money so she can pay him back for his services. The last thing she expects to find when she breaks into his house is a Werewolf chained in the cellar. She shouldn't have gotten as close as she did and she really, really shouldn't have gotten caught.
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
On hindsight, I should have carried a second tranquilizer with me, but hindsight is for people with experience and proper planning, of which I have neither.
I spend ten minutes opening the safe because I didn't know the password. There is money inside. All the money I need and more. Cold hard cash that could solve all my problems. I take a generous stack of hundred-dollar bills and stuff it in my bag along with my lock-picking tools and turn around.
My heart jumps to my throat.
The wolf is awake and staring at me and it is not happy.
I can feel my heartbeat going crazy. I look into the werewolf's menacing eyes and leans as close to the wall as I can. Powerful exhales of breath comings from its huge jaws.
"Oh god," I gasp. "Oh god." I look around. There's nowhere to run. The only way I can get to the exit is if I somehow manage to get past the wolf and it doesn't look like it's willing to budge. The wolf lunges towards me and the only thing keeping it from reaching me is the heavy chain around it's throat.
It is still too close for comfort. I hold my breath. His hand lunges out and clearly the chain around his neck is too long because he manages to grasp my wrist and pull me in. I feel the claws digging in, my bones creaking.
"Please let go, Wolf," I whimper when it merely holds my wrist and do nothing else.
It looks like it hadn't expected to catch me at all and now that it has me, it doesn't know what to do. "Dominic," it growls, drawing out the consonants and I blink up at it- at him- with startled eyes.
It- he can still talk. That's a good sign. That means he can be reasoned with and he might not eat me after all. "Dominic? Is that your name?"
"Dominic," he repeats, once again dragging out the consonants, elongated fangs inches from my teeth.
"Mr. Dominic, sir. I uh- if you let me go, I promise to get you help," I say.
He doesn't blink or budge.
"I promise," I say and it's three octaves higher than normal. Sweat drips from my brow. It's worth a shot.
He tips his head up and for a second, I wonder why he's offering me his neck before it dawns on me that he's seen me open the safe and wants me to free the chains on his neck. "Now," he growls.
