To Kill a Wolf: BBW Werewolf Erotic Romance (North Wolves Novella Series Book 1) Read Free

flare. He could scent her.
He could scent her panic and inexplicable arousal. With nothing more
than one look, he could scramble her insides and reduce her to a
melting, quivering mess. She could feel the heat spiraling down her
body to pool between her thighs.
    As she crossed her legs and
pressed them tightly together to stop the maddening ache, he narrowed
his amber eyes at her and his lips moved to form two words silently.
    It's you.
    With a final glare at her,
he turned and strode out of the great hall.
    Leah let out a shaky breath.
That grim-faced guard seemed to have her in his sights. Did he know
what she was planning to do?
    She had to act fast. That
guard had walked out of the hall, but he might be back soon.
    Leah dug her nails painfully
into her palms. She shook her head, trying to block out Mason's
voice, but his words stabbed into her mind like jagged shards of
glass.
    Mercy
is for the weak, and there are no weak wolves in Dark Moon .
    She
wished she wasn't here. She wished she didn't have to do this. But
even from an early age she knew that wishes didn't come true. They
never did.

CHAPTER
THREE

    Just as the appetizer was
served, Leah saw a movement at the head of the table. She put down
her fork quietly and tensed. The Alpha was standing up and shaking
hands with a few guests. Smiling and waving, he left the banquet
hall.
    Hurriedly, Leah excused
herself and pushed back from the table. She had to follow him. If
she could catch him alone...
    The
silver knife felt icy cold against her skin. Silver would burn a
werewolf, and once she plunged the silver blade into the heart of the
Thunderfalls Alpha, the young Alpha would not regenerate from his
wounds. The mortal
blow would be excruciating, a s the silver would burn through his flesh before reaching his heart.
    Steeling
herself , Leah forced the image from her mind.
    Mercy
was for the weak, she
repeated the mantra over and over again. Weak, weak, weak...
    Despite shaking so hard she
could hardly walk, she managed to slip out of the rowdy banquet hall.
She saw the Alpha round the corner of a long hallway. He had his
hands in his pockets and was humming softly to himself. She
scrambled after him, and saw him head down a rather dimly lit
corridor.
    Was he going to the
washroom?
    Leah gulped. The washroom
would be the perfect place to carry out her gruesome business. She
could slip in after him and get him alone.
    Leah pulled the knife slowly
out of her boot. She tiptoed after her target, but her steps slowed
and her hand shook. She was so close, but the closer she got, the
worse she felt. It felt all horribly wrong to her. This was a
mistake, and she was going to commit a terrible, unforgivable
mistake. A violent, senseless crime.
    She didn't want to kill him.
She didn't want to kill anyone. It just wasn't right. None of this
was right.
    Leah turned suddenly and
gasped. Looming over her was that handsome guard, his fierce amber
eyes locked on her.
    His huge hand closed around
her throat and he pinned her to the wall. “Who are you? What
is your name?” he snarled in her ear.
    “Leah,” she
choked out, struggling weakly. “Leah Miller.” Her knife
was raised and his eyes darted to the glinting blade.
    “Your pack?”
    “D-D-Dark Moon.”
    “Give me the knife,
Leah,” he commanded in a low, menacing voice.
    She shook her head, even as
his grip tightened around her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut,
and felt her body shaking violently against the wall. But she wasn't
shaking with fear. She was trembling with relief.
    He was going to kill her,
and...she was glad. She was glad she didn't have to kill the
Thunderfalls Alpha, and she was relieved that she wasn't going to die
at the teeth and claws of her pack. Her pack would not allow her a
quick, painless death. She would be shamed and tortured, before she
was allowed to die.
    “Do it,” she
whispered. “Please.”
    Her eyes fluttered open in
shock when she felt his grip loosen. A flurry of footsteps