Gideon’s on the ground, his hands around Celeste’s neck. In the harsh glare of the entrance light, I get my first up-close look at Celeste in her wolf form.
She isterrifying– larger than any wolf has business being, with vicious claws that swipe at Gideon’s arms and chest. Powerful jaws snap at his face, and I know that even with his vampiric strength, Gideon will lose this battle.
“Argggh!” Gideon wrestles with her. Blood gushes from claw wounds in his arm.
“Celeste!”
At the sound of my voice, Celeste’s back straightens. She sits back and glances over at me, teeth bared, stained with Gideon’s blood. Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t seem aggressive towards me.
Is she here to protect me?
Raw fear punches through me. I can’t let Celeste hurt Gideon.
I step forward, placing my body between them.
“Arabella, no.” Gideon hisses.
“He’s part of our pack,” I growl, brandishing the umbrella. “We don’t hurt our own.”
Celeste growls back, the sound so deep and dark that it rumbles in my stomach. I think she’s telling me to move… or else.
She lunges straight at me, those horrible teeth bared. I swing the umbrella through the air, knowing with horror that it’s not going to stop a huge, salivating wolf with a heroine complex.
A long shape darts between my legs.
Cleo VII rears up, fangs bared, hood extended, hissing a warning. Celeste twists midair to escape the snake, hitting the flagstones on her side. She whimpers, rolling into my garden bed, crushing the flowers.
Cleo VII advances. Celeste scrabbles onto all fours and slinks off into the bushes.
“Cleo, you beautiful creature.” I hold out my arm, and she coils around my shoulders, her tongue flicking as she fixes her eyes on the spot where Celeste entered the woods.
“Arabella…”
I turn at the forlorn sound. Gideon lies, clutching his arm, blood staining the flagstones beneath him.Shit.
“I can’t leave you out here to attract more delightful wildlife.” I grab Gideon under his shoulders and drag him inside, leaving a trail of blood across my front porch. I’ll be sending him a bill to clean that later.
Once inside, I’m confronted with the scale of my problem. There is absolutely nowhere in my vast and pristine new property where I want a bleeding, moaning Gideon. I settle for dumping him on the kitchen tiles while I search for something to clean him up with.
“Ow.” Gideon crawls towards the living room. “Why didn’t you put me on the couch?”
“That couch is Hermès. You’re not getting anywhere near it until those wounds are healed over.”
“That blasted wolf has ruined a perfectly decent suit.” Gideon coughs blood on my Scandinavian larch floorboards.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love an excuse to go back to Savile Row.”
“Did you just save my life?”
“Technically, Cleo VII saved your life. But don’t let it go to your head. She still doesn’t trust you.” I toss him a damp tea towel. “You’re bleeding on my new rug. Fix that.”
Gideon wraps the towel around his arm. He fishes his phone outof his pocket as I open my fridge and pull out a bottle of vintage blood I’d been saving for tonight – a Steamboat Captain (full-bodied, sea-salt flavour). “I’d better call the security team and tell them we have a wolf problem.”
I whip the phone out of his hand. “Don’t do that.”
Gideon tilts his head to the side. “And why wouldn’t I? Are you hoping that beast comes back for another bite?”
“Perhaps.” My heart hammers against my ribs as I debate what I should tell him. I wipe off two glasses and pour blood right to the rims. I hand him his glass and settle on the truth. “Drink. You’ll need it. That’s no ordinary wolf. It’s Celeste.”
