And that’s how I ended up in Percy Porkwell’s penthouse, my professional integrity compromised and my panties following shortly thereafter. From righteous indignation to writhing beneath a pig in record time—surely some kind of rock bottom for wolf kind.
Except now, hiding in his closet while his older brother discusses my ancestral land’s destruction, I realize I’ve found a way to sink even lower.
3
Ruby
Istay frozen in Percy’s closet, barely breathing as Hamilton and Percy leave the room. Hamilton drones on about construction permits and profit margins.
After what feels like an eternity of budget talk (though my wolf hearing catches every damning detail about their plans for Wolfstone, even though Percy closed the door), Hamilton shifts to a tone I recognize all too well from city council meetings—the condescending big-brother voice.
“Remember what happened last time you went soft on a project, Percy,” he says, his voice lower but still audible to my wolf ears. “The Riverside fiasco cost us millions because you insisted on ‘preserving the ecosystem.’” He practically spits the last words. “Dad put me in charge for a reason. Don’t forget that.” Percy’s response is too quiet to hear, but his tone soundstight, defensive. Hamilton whispers something else in Percy’s ear—I catch only fragments about “family reputation”—but it sounds clipped, threatening. Then, he finally grunts his goodbye, the door slamming closed with unnecessary force.
Silence fills the penthouse for three long beats before Percy whispers, “Ruby? He’s gone.”
I push the closet door open with more force than necessary, nearly sending it flying off its hinges. Percy stands there in his silk boxers, looking equal parts relieved and apprehensive.
“So,” I say, clutching my clothes to my chest like armour, “that was enlightening. You’re not just building luxury condos—you’re adding a ‘predator-secure’ shopping district with anti-wolf security measures. How progressive.”
Percy, at least, has the decency to look uncomfortable. “Ham likes to exaggerate the security features for investors.”
“Really? Because it sounded like you’re installing silver-infused perimeter fencing.Silver, Percy. Do you know what that does to wolf skin?” My voice rises with each word, my nakedness forgotten in my anger.
“It burns us. Scars us. Some wolves never recover from silver exposure.”
“It was never my idea,” he says, stepping closer. “Hamilton pushes the anti-predator angle. I just design the buildings.”
“Just following orders?” I sneer. “How noble.”
He runs a hand over his face. “It’s complicated.”
“It really isn’t, Percy,” I snap. “What you and your brothers are proposing will destroy my heritage.”
I yank on my clothes, my hands trembling with the effort to focus. The heat is still there, humming under my skin, but my anger cuts through it.
For once, fury wins over instinct.
Percy watches me dress with a mixture of disappointment and something else—something that looks suspiciously like admiration. “Wolfstone is really important to you.”
Is he dense, or do the Porkwell brothers all share the same brain cell?
“Of course it’s important!” I bark, struggling with my bra clasp in my agitation. “It’s the last place where wolves can just… be wolves, where we don’t have to pretend to be something we’re not to make prey species comfortable. Where our pups can run free without being registered and tagged like criminals.”
Before I realize what’s happening, Percy is behind me, his fingers gently taking over my mangling clasp. “Let me.”
His touch on my bare back sends an unwelcome shiver down my spine. Despite everything I’ve just heard, my traitorous body still responds to him.
“I really did want to show you the development plans,” he says softly, his breath warm against my neck. “I’ve been working on alterations to Hamilton’s original vision, preserving more of the natural landscape, incorporating wolf-friendly spaces.”
The clasp clicks into place, but his hands don’t leave my skin. They rest lightly on my shoulders, neither demanding nor retreating.
“Why would you do that?” I ask, turning to face him, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing.
His eyes meet mine, unusually serious. “Because your article was right. Not about my family being terrorists—that was excessive—but about the importance of preserving heritage. I’ve been researching wolf cultural sites.”
I blink, genuinely surprised. “You have?”
“I’m an architect, Ruby. I respect history, structure… Meaning.” His thumb traces a small circle on my shoulder. “I’m not the villain you think I am.”
