Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“I’ve got your resume right here. I’m sure, Ruby. So what do you say?”
“When you say decent, how much less than minimum wage is it?”
I bite down even harder, my chest clamping when I think about her question's implications.
“You’re twenty years old, Ruby. Why are you asking if I’ll pay you below minimum wage?”
She laughs with a note of defensiveness to it. Every gesture from her and every noise makes me want to claim her with even more passion.
I’m a bursting hulking mess, or close to becoming one, the beast within tugging on its chains and roaring to be free.
I thought I’d mastered myself.
I thought I’d never let go, never lose control.
“That’s what happens when you don’t have a high school diploma and no real work experience. Or very little. And no qualifications. I’ve worked under minimum wage at every job I’ve had since I…. How old were you when you started getting paid properly?”
My hands clench into fists. For a terrifying second, I think my claws are going to erupt. My body is on the edge, getting closer and closer the more time I spend near her.
I should roar at her now, tell her no, tell her she can’t work for me.
But then, being close to a scent is the only way to get used to it. Even now, standing maybe a foot from her, I can feel the beast slowly starting to accept I’m not going to let it out.
It’s not easy. It makes me tense, and difficult to maintain my composure, but I can do it.
A less experienced shifter would be salivating right now, animal-eyed, changing in the bright late-morning sun and alerting every hunter within one hundred miles.
“How old are you?” Ruby says. “You know since you don’t have a resume for me to get a sneaky look at.”
I smirk, unable to help myself. It doesn’t change the hammering paws against my resolve, but I’m able to be a human as well as a beast with her... the relief hits me harder than I expected.
It means there are options here. Maybe no dating, kissing, or anything intimate. If I got one look at that curvy body without clothes on, I don’t trust myself to stay contained.
My insides would tremble the same way they did last night.
With more than her scent to tempt me, I’d snap. My bones would reshape.
My wolf would erupt.
“Um, Ramsey?”
My skin shivers when she uses my name, a hint that a change would bring great pleasure.
It sometimes happens as if fulfilling our true selves gives us a reward. It’s a rare feeling for me, and I’ve never given in to it.
Some shifters spend their days lost in the pleasure of changing. It produces this type of release.
I smirk, hopefully masking the tautness of my feelings. My wolf won’t settle, but at least I’m not softly taking her in my massive paws and carrying her someplace.
At least I’ve still got hands, feet, and a mouth to smirk.
“I’m forty-two,” I tell her.
For a moment, I think about our age gap. Twenty-two years, but then a vision of glinting teeth cuts into my mind. Of reaching claws. If anybody tried to threaten my Ruby, I'd collapse into a hulking body covered in silver fur and battle with rage.
I’m older, yes. And maybe she won’t like that.
But she’ll like the truly dangerous truth far less.
“When can you start?” I ask, knowing I need to get away from her soon.
There’s only so much I can take, even as my wolf is growing accustomed to her scent.
“As soon as you’ll let me,” she says, with a note of pride in her voice.
I find myself thinking about the sort of mother she’ll make, always wanting to put the hard work in, doing whatever it takes, so our children are happy and excited about life.
She’s going to be incredible….
Except, what will we do if the beast wins out over the human?
Humans and shifters can mate, but there’s always a chance the children will inherit the shifter. It’ll come out in their teens, a piece of mayhem to contend with, so much worse than regular puberty.
Relax, I growl at myself. She’s just a young woman who wants a job. That’s all. She’d laugh if she knew what you were thinking.
“Today,” I say after a long pause.
I wonder what she thinks about me stopping to stare at her.
I wonder if she can tell how close I am.
She won’t know what I’m close to, but surely she can see or sense something.
Surely she can tell there’s something not quite right with me.
“Really?” she smiles. “Okay, yes. Thank you. Please. I mean...I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I never expected this.”
My lips spread at the joy whooshing across her face.
It’s impossible not to smile – or my equivalent – when there’s so much happiness from inside her. I can scent it in the air, the change in her mood, as if more hope is sinking into her just-Ruby smell.