Blood rushed into my ears, drowning out all the sounds around me—the clink of glasses, the whir of a fan overhead, the voices of others in the place.

All I heard was the drumming of my heart.

I was so drained, all I wanted was to curl into the fetal position.

Between fighting the wolf inside me and the hunters who were always looking for me and others like me, I was fucking exhausted.

"Hello, miss." A voice with a light French accent invaded my personal torture.

I raised my head and met the man's eyes, using them to center myself.

"My name is Mateo." He studied me carefully, concern clear in his eyes as he took in my disheveled appearance.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is something wrong? Can I do anything to help?"

Dread coursed through my veins. It would be so easy—too easy—to hurt this man. To reach up, curl my fingers into his throat, and drag him down where I could tear him apart. It wouldn't be me, though. It would be her. The beast.

Fuck . Was I about to kill this nice man? All because he had shown some concern for me? Was my time up? Had it just been luck that I had contained the wolf for four years? Was I doomed to live in hell? That fate seemed so cruel after glimpsing a small piece of heaven.

Swallowing was a battle, and every breath ached in my lungs. My mouth went dry, and my lips cracked and burned. Again, I couldn't find the words to assure the bartender I was okay. I glanced up at him, and his dark eyes studied me. His forehead pinched with concern.

Out of nowhere, a pleasant, commanding, masculine voice cut through my panic.

"Mateo, give the lady some space and a martini." His tone was deep and rich, but there was no mistaking this man's command of the room. Heads turned, mine included.

And it was worth it. The voice belonged to the most attractive man I'd ever seen.

Tall and dark. Hair like night. Eyes the color of coal.

I was still trembling, though now I couldn't tell if it was from fighting with my wolf or from my instant, burning desire for him.

I was no virgin, had been with men before, but I'd never felt desire like this—desire that thrummed through my veins.

I had to be wary. It wasn't normal to have this level of attraction from just a few kind words. A man like that would never want someone like me, not that I had time for love. Love needed time and trust, and I had neither to spare.

But his kind, beautiful smile kept me captive. We held each other's gaze as I focused my attention on his eyes. I followed his breathing, nice and slow. In. Out. In. Out.

He slid onto the bench opposite me. "Is it all right if I sit with you for a moment? It's been a long day at work, and this is my usual booth." He lifted his brow as if he knew there was a battle for control going on inside me. "But I don't want to bother you."

Without answering, I stared at him as my feral mania ebbed and my control returned.

Mateo appeared in front of us, sliding the martini in front of me, but he didn't leave.

I didn't know if he saw the monster residing within me or if I was just in that bad of shape.

Did he think I was going to hurt his friend?

Needing to take the edge off, I sipped at the martini. Slowly, the tension faded even more. My muscles relaxed, and my body calmed enough that I was almost certain the danger had passed.

Mateo nodded at the other man, apparently satisfied, and he returned to the bar, leaving me alone with my new point of focus.

I studied the handsome stranger across from me, and he stared at me in return. My inner monster relaxed at his appraisal. Sometimes my wolf seemed to become less restless and pent-up when I had no-strings-attached one-night stands. I was busy considering having another as I watched him.

After another long swig of the drink, I eyed the stranger up and down.

There was no ignoring the way he made my stomach flip and how I didn't bristle at his attention.

Normally, I didn't feel safe and secure with another person, but the way he looked at me quieted the noise in my head.

I let my shoulders relax. If he had that effect on me, there was no way I didn't want to be around him longer.

I didn't find that kind of escape easily, and I obviously needed it desperately if I was this close to losing control around so many people. A release was exactly what I needed.

But I couldn't be sure if this incredibly gorgeous man in the expensive clean suit would be interested in such a thing with me for one night. I checked his ring finger. No ring, no tan line.

Single.

Perfect.

I closed my eyes and licked the remnants of the martini off my lips.

For now, I had to settle my wolf and unwind, which didn't seem to be an issue with this guy. It would pass the time. A healthy dose of flirting with a handsome stranger—and maybe more, if I played my cards right—could set me right before I moved on to the next town and resumed my life on the run.

Again.

Read how Tori ends up agreeing to be a fake Fiancé in Never Trust an Alpha , book 1 in Wolves of Blackwood

Ridge Blackwood's breathtaking gray eyes gaze at me beneath hooded lids. "You can trust me, Tori." Trust an alpha wolf?

Yeah, right. Certainly not one who wants me to be his fake fiancé.

But I'm all out of options. A man is dead and I'm the prime suspect.

Worse still, I have no idea how to be a wolf. I didn't even know they existed until my mother was killed and I discovered my family hunts shifters.

And then I turned into one.

Now the man I thought was my father is hunting me down, and taking sanctuary among other shifters in Blackwood Creek is my only chance of surviving and finding answers. It's that or turn feral.

So, fake fiancé it is...