CHAPTER 3
ETHAN
Ethan Blackwood closed his eyes and muted Julian Styles, the leader of the iOS team, out as he droned on about the compatibility issues they'd resolved this week. It wasn't usual for him, but he'd been off form for two days. He prided himself on the face-to-face, personal approach in which he worked as the CEO. Everything mattered, regardless of how small, and every meeting required his full attention.
Was he a micromanager? Guilty, but he had built a billion-dollar company out of nothing by paying attention to every single little detail, ensuring that all things fit in line with his game plan. Always, he had been that way, prior to the wolf. Bringing out his inner creature only made it paramount that he remain in control and unencumbered of all distractions like her.
The wolf growled in his denial. No, she wasn't distraction to him. She had replayed itself in his mind the night that they shared. Even now, he could sense her desire, her need. He wanted to run his hands through her long, silky strands of hair and jerk her head back before nipping at her throat.
Instead of her intoxicating perfume, confusion and worry hit his nose when he breathed deeply. The conference room grew quiet. He opened his eyes to find the team staring at him. All but project head engineer Ryan Thompson averted their gazes quickly.
No one at the office—no one except her—had any inkling of what he was really. They didn't need to know the wolf in order to handle him like the alpha that he was. Millennia of instinct instructed them how to identify a predator, a threat.
His inner animal reveled in their respect, even fear. It was a component of good management—the carrot to the stick. The staff worked most effectively when they feared failure and his reaction to it. However, it got in the way when he let himself get distracted.
"Sir, did you hear me ask a question?" Julian Styles stuttered, not daring to glance at him.
"Repeat it," Ethan Blackwood commanded, his voice involuntarily low and rough.
He'd scheduled this appointment so near the full moon that he was riding the edge of it. Like the moon itself, the wolf waxed and waned. Its strength increased and decreased. He always kept it in control, never letting it into the driver's seat, but that became easier after the full moon…most of the time. Damn her.
The wolf howled, and he almost tore the armrest off his leather chair. He fumed at each try he made to push her out of his head. When he woke up alone with only the scent of her reminding him of her presence after that moment, he'd tried to wipe her out of his mind. He would not have it.
"Did we still prepare for the investor demo next month?" Julian Styles finished saying without stuttering, even though he could not look his eyes in.
The rest of the team had their faces buried in their heads, frowning and confused. They required his power, his guidance. Without his authority, the brilliant team of programmers and engineers that he'd put together was a rudderless ship. Bloody hell to her for having left him so preoccupied and for making him second-guess his work on it.
For months, he'd focused his mind on their new project, the crown jewel for their security software. They'd leveled the playing field with archival tracking of facial recognition. The NYPD and other law enforcement agencies salivated for its introduction. With it, they'd be in a better position to track down criminals and get them off the streets sooner.
All was going to plan. They'd been moving along with few setbacks. He'd never doubted the project until she stormed into his life and left chaos in her wake.
His wolf remained leashed, tightly in his control, because he directed his violent tendencies into his other favorite activities. He only indulged in the three Fs—fighting, feeding, and fucking. He engaged in the latter two.
Long-term relationships did not catch on with the wolf. If he tried one, they'd sooner or later all get together. They'd wonder, eventually, why he always took off in the middle of a full moon. New York was the city, after all, so it wasn't like he ever was without fleeting bedfellows.
He had been stalking one of the most popular clubs in town when he first saw her. The mini-dress she wore hugged her curvy yet feminine and athletic figure, but her hair really caught his eye. Her hair was long, silky strands framing her heart-shaped face. Her hair begged to have a hand stroked through it.
He caught a whiff of another shifter, a stalking cat, but one looking for deadlier fun than he. They were the worst kind of bastards. He thought about stepping in with the girl he'd had his paws on, but then along came this one and took her place. That ended the debate.
When they got up and went out the back door, he trailed behind them, not wanting to have his fun ruined by having her harmed. She didn't need his help. She'd been handling the whole situation from the start. When he saw the blackness behind the club by the doorway, the other shifter picked up on his chance. He came at the girl with a swing of his elbow, but she ducked away, and a shot was fired. She stood like a vengeful angel, a miniature handgun in her hand as he fell to the ground. Even discovering the truth, that she had hunted his people, hadn't diminished her appeal for him or his wolf.
During the same time frame the NYPD had, there was someone from The Holy See interested in the system they were creating. They claimed it was to protect valuable artworks, but did they plan on utilizing it to track his people? He'd followed hunters using her and the system to a St. Michael's Shelter, but did it go further than that?
"Yes, we are still going," Ethan Blackwood said, though his voice was more assured than he was.
The tension in the room eased significantly, and the team started to disperse. His eyes fell to the laptop on his desk. For the hundredth time since he'd last seen her, he struggled against the need to attempt to find her again so he could keep her in sight and ensure she remained safe.