Hale hadn’t intended to let his inner werewolf make an appearance for this fight. Even if he’d already snuck his claws out in the club, the risk of someone seeing him in his shifted form was too great. It was the one rule the Pack lived by: don’treveal their biggest secret.
But as the man slipped through his defenses again like Hale wasn’t even fighting back and aimed a kick at his head that would have crushed his skull, Hale realized he didn’t have a choice. This supernatural—whatever he was—was strong enough to kill a werewolf one-on-one. Figuring he’d clean the mess up later, Hale extended his claws and fangs.
The only indication that Hale had caught the man off guard with the sudden shift was a slight narrowing of the eyes. If Hale needed more evidence this guy was supernatural, that was it. Anyone else would have flipped out.
The guy must have decided that claws and fangs justified an upgrade in weapons because, in another flash of motion, one hand came out from behind his back holding a knife with a slightly curved blade about twelve inches long, its razor-sharp edge glinting in the light coming from that one lone bulb.
When the fight began again, this time it was with claws and a blade instead of punches and kicks. Much of Hale’s martial arts training—especially Krav Maga—had included defense against people using an edged weapon. But this guy was faster and better trained with the knife than anyone Hale had ever gone up against. Twenty seconds later, Hale already had minor slices across multiple places on his body.
Knowing he would have to take a chance if hewas going to beat this man, Hale stopped blocking some of the strikes, taking several more cuts on purpose to lure the man in closer, letting him think he was slowing down from blood loss. When the man finally became overconfident and overextended himself, Hale struck, going for a blow that would end this fight once and for all.
But just as his claws slammed into the man’s exposed throat, Hale saw something that made him wonder if he was seeing things. There along the man’s neck, barely visible in the dim light from that naked bulb, were rows upon rows of shimmering, almost-invisible semicircles.
Scales.
The man had frigging scales!
Hale’s claws scraped across them with the same nails-on-chalkboard sensation he’d experienced back in the club, sending shivers up and down his spine. The worthless swing did little more than overbalance Hale, leaving him wide-open to a counterstrike in the form of a twelve-inch-long blade being plunged into the right side of his chest.
Hale immediately knew the wound wasn’t fatal, since it didn’t hit his heart, but it sure as hell hurt. Gritting his teeth to keep from howling in pain, he shoved away from the man to get the blade out, falling to his knees in the process.
For a split second, Hale thought the fact that he wasn’t dead would put his opponent off balanceenough to allow him to regain his feet and put some distance between them. But in the span of a single heartbeat, the man was moving again, swinging the large blade toward Hale’s neck with enough force to take his head off.
Werewolves could handle a lot of damage, but losing a head? Not so much.
Hale tried to fling himself backward, but knew it was too late for that. He was a goner.
The sudden clang of metal on metal was so loud to his sensitive werewolf ears that Hale thought he might actually go deaf, even as the scent of lilac blossoms overwhelmed his nose like nothing he’d ever experienced. Before he could come close to comprehending what had happened, someone shoved him aside and stepped protectively in front of him.
Hale lifted an arm to shield his eyes as bright light lit up the alley, nearly blinding him and casting harsh shadows all over the place. Blinking tears from his eyes, Hale caught sight of someone wearing a long leather duster and swinging a short sword.
A friggingglowingshort sword!
If Hale was stunned, then the guy with the nearly invisible scales was dumbfounded. Which was probably why he didn’t react in time to avoid the spinning back kick delivered by the figure in the leather duster, one that sent Scaly Man flying across the alley to slam into the far building.
Hard.
As in leaving-an-indent-of-his-body-in-the-brick-wall kind of hard. Hale wasn’t sure if all the crunching and cracking sounds came from the man or the concrete. Either way, the fight was now officially over.
The figure in the leather duster slowly turned to face Hale, the glowing sword disappearing into thin air. Blinking his eyes several more times, Hale cleared away the last of the light dazzle from his eyes to stare up at his rescuer in disbelief.
The person who’d saved him was a woman. She wore her long, brown hair tied back away from her face in a low ponytail and her green eyes were so bright they reminded him of emeralds.
“Karissa?” he asked softly.
Her stunning eyes widened for a fraction of a second before another bright flash lit up the alley again. His werewolf night vision completely shut down, forcing him to blink his eyes again until they cleared. By the time he could see clearly again, she was gone.
Hale was ready to think it had all been some strange hallucination brought on by his near-death experience. Then he saw the unconscious man slumped against the wall and knew he’d truly seen Karissa Bonifay, the first and only woman he’d ever loved.
Chapter 2
“Only Karissa Bonifay would run away from a big sexy hunk of a man after saving his life,” Karissa muttered in exasperation as she walked into the extended-stay hotel she’d been living in for the past few days, fully aware she was talking about herself in the third person and completely fine with that. “Most women would have at least asked for his number. Then again, I suppose I can be forgiven for bailing on the situation since Hale Delaney happens to be the man who ripped out my heart and stomped on it when we were teenagers.”
She skipped the elevator, heading for the stairs instead, pausing at the bottom to regain her breath. Her out-of-control breathing had nothing to do with running twenty or so blocks from that dark alley all the way back here to the hotel and everything to do with stumbling across a man she’d never expected to see again for as long as she lived.
“I can’t believe you’re letting an ex get to you like this,” she grumbled to herself as she started up the stairs for the third floor.
She’d been talking to herself like this since middle school as a way to work through difficultproblems. Her life had gotten more complicated in high school, so she’d never stopped.
