Crave Read Free

slimmer build gave him the advantage of speed. He could probably incapacitate the werewolf with only minimal injury to himself.
    However.
    There were two other male werewolves seated on the curved dark leather seat of the booth behind the male dancing with the woman, and both of them were watching the couple. Three glasses stood on the oval black table in the centre of the booth. The male was with them.
    One werewolf he might be able to handle.
    Three would crush him.
    It should have stopped him from pursuing the woman, but his feet still propelled him forwards, towards what could only be a bloody and painful future.
    He couldn’t turn back now that he had tasted her.
    He hungered for another touch, another taste.
    He craved her.
    And he would have her.
     
     

Chapter 2
    What was she doing?
    When she had fled England, Kristina had vowed to avoid interacting with werewolves. It was safest that way, no matter how much she often craved the company of her kind. All packs had a unique scent, something a werewolf could smell on each other and recognise. Part of her training as a cub had been spent on burning knowledge of the European werewolf packs and their scents into her mind. It was something all packs taught their young. The man now grinding against her backside and turning her stomach with his dominant grip on her was from a local pack here in Paris but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t turn her over.
    She had been on the run from her pack for months now but she was sure they were still looking for her.
    This was a mistake.
    Kristina tried to get free of her partner but his thick arm tightened across her stomach, holding her firm. A spark of panic leapt through her blood and she struggled to tamp it down and disguise it so he wouldn’t sense it in her. She made out she was turning in his arms and he allowed it, his large hands moving to her backside, clutching and squeezing.
    What the Hell had she been thinking?
    The vampire had scared her and she had gone running to her own kind. Pathetic. She was stronger than that. So his fangs had come out and she had felt their sharp tips on her tongue, that didn’t mean he had intended to bite her. Not everything she had been told about vampires was true. She had thought she had known that, had accepted it as fact, and had always been proud of herself for being able to see that vampires weren’t really a threat unless you made them one by provoking them. It turned out that she was wrong and she hadn’t accepted it after all. The moment his fangs had touched her, she had panicked and lashed out, her heart rocketing and hackles rising. Everything bad she had ever been told about vampires had shot through her mind and she had gone with it rather than telling herself that it was just desire that had brought his fangs out. It was a reaction her kind shared with vampires. Whenever she got a little overexcited, her canines extended against her will.
    She should have been flattered by his reaction to her kiss, not sought to knock his fangs out.
    She was no better than every other werewolf. They had driven fear of vampires, horror stories about them, so deep into her mind that she couldn’t escape it even when she thought that she had.
    The male werewolf leaned down towards her and she stiffened in his arms, fear of him rising inside her and telling her to break away from him, that he would try to dominate her just as her alpha had. She had to run.
    His warm breath washed over her skin, turning her stomach, and she shrank backwards, trying to escape his touch. She had been a fool to run back to her own kind for protection. She had probably been safer with the vampire than she was with this male. They all wanted the same thing from her, all smelt her readiness to mate and took it to mean that she wanted them when she didn’t. She wasn’t interested in bearing cubs like a dutiful female. She wanted a life.
    A firm cool hand on her shoulder caused her to jump. The start of a shriek escaped