Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 2

“Are you okay?” I panic, hoping he hasn’t hit his head in the gutter, just as the car tears off down the road, not even bothering to stop to see if I’m okay. I grip his face, checking him over, before realizing we have gathered a crowd.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” His little voice cracks with the weight. of the chaos he had unwittingly unleashed. Tears carve clean paths down his dirt–smudged face, his innocence laid bare in the sun’s harsh light.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I rasp out, my throat tight with having the air smashed from my lungs and my skin burning violently. He has a scraped knee, but other than that, he looks to be okay.

“Are you hurt?” I manage to ask, though my body screams in protest. The pain is sharp, consuming almost, but my wolf will heal me in no time. This little man, however, is too young to have a wolf yet.

His small head shakes, sending droplets of tears flying. I let out a breath of relief and stand when I hear the crowd’s

murmurs before shouts resonate loudly and the crowd of people part, making way for someone.

I hadn’t even regained my footing when he appeared- shoving people out of the way; he was chaos personified in a tailored suit.

“Max!” he stammers, closing the distance in heartbeats, sweeping the child into his arms.

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Chapter 2

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is tall and muscular, towering over me as his dark

his commanding presence. Even having a mate, I must admit the man is gorgeous and would be any lady’s wet dream. Though his aura is another thing entirely, everyone scatters to get away from him as it ripples out

piercing blue eyes. His small head is

tiny frame shakes in his father’s arms, his small hands gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. My own body trembles at the intensity of the man’s aura, a strong force that seems to emanate from him in waves, and a growl rips out of him when people edge closer; the sound is a

in tailored suits suddenly surrounding us; he is clearly someone of importance to warrant this much security. Hearing me

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Скаран 2

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over me. The air around us seems to thicken with tension,

around us, almost like I’m suddenly shielded by it. It’s a weird sensation as it ripples over me, but I don’t have that overwhelming urge to submit to him. He must be a

hint of cologne, strong and manly, lingers in the air around the man as his aura radiates dominance and

nod, trying to

voice deep, each word laced with an intoxicating

his chest, holding on to him like he is

protesting the sudden shift from adrenaline–fueled

scraped knee,” I manage, my voice sounding foreign to my ears–roughened by strain. A smile attempts to breach my lips,