This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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The minute… No, the very second… Hell, the nanosecond she got away from this guy, Lyla was running straight to Gold’s Gym and buying a membership. Maybe even two. More memberships had to mean more weight loss, right? Shit, she hoped so.
Lyla chanced a glance behind her and gasped at what she saw. Carl had almost gone full wolf as he chased her. His arms and face were covered in a mottled mix of grey and brown fur. His mouth had contorted and reshaped into a half-formed muzzle, and his hands … his hands had lengthened and were now tipped with fierce, razor-sharp claws. No way would she survive if he caught her. Damn. As pissed as he was at her for running, he’d slice and dice her instead mating. She picked up the pace, cursing herself for wearing three-inch heels instead of comfortable flats.