Scarlett's Wolf

Blake stuck to the shadows as he made his way to Ashling's apartment, his dark fur made it easy for him to blend in with the night.

      He was surprised to run into Lynette before he reached her home. He was so focused on following the scent of the familiar perfume he ignored his other senses. He could smell the wolfsbane even before he caught a glimpse of a black cat racing away.

      It was the same scene that must have greeted Jimmy at the morgue--mangled body surrounded by the flowers and sprinkled with the same mistletoe concentration. Again, the black cat was involved. He would have followed it, but he didn't want Lynette to know what he was up to. He knew the body was one of her kills; he just wasn't sure how she and the cat were connected. He would find out the connection between them on his own, but first he had to check on Ashling.

      Moments later, Blake walked around to the back of the Victorian house and silently padded up the fire escape to the second floor. The landing spanned the width of the house. He looked into a couple of windows but didn't see Ashling. The last window was her bedroom. It was open about three inches, and it was enough for Blake to smell her. He kept himself back so he wouldn't be noticed, but close enough so he could enjoy the view.

      She had a small lamp on the nightstand lit as she sat on the edge of the bed to remove her running shoes. She tossed them in the closet and sank back against the mattress as she pulled her hair free from the band it was in. He licked his chops as her soft dark waves cascaded over the edge of the bed, and she stretched her arms over her head. When she got up and headed out of sight to the bathroom, he sat down on the cold metal and prepared himself for more.

      Ashling emerged without her jeans, with nothing on but her panties and a T‐shirt, and she was brushing her hair. Blake held his breath as he watched her pull her T‐shirt up over her head, her breasts bouncing free. His eyes were transfixed on her rosy nipples as they came to erection while she tossed the T‐shirt into a nearby chair. Then, she slid her panties down to the floor, releasing the heavenly scent of her pussy. Blake's nostrils flared so he wouldn't miss one aspect of her smell.

      He knew he was drooling when she turned and he got a full view of her breasts and her neatly trimmed pussy. He had to fight the urge to burst forth and lick that sweet slit. It had to taste as good as it smelled.

      She walked around the bedroom for a short time as she put things away. Blake admired her beauty before she crawled under the blankets, turned out the light, and settled in for the evening. Blake made himself comfortable, lying with his front paws stretched out before him. He rested his chin on his paws, his snout positioned so he could breathe in her scent through the small opening of the window. He needed to gain control of himself. Even as a wolf he had a raging hard on.

      He would stay for a bit to be sure Lynette didn't show up and to enjoy the sweet smells of this beautiful woman, but then he'd have to go. 

--

Ashling Scarlett hates werewolves. She also has a secret. She uses this secret to find the victims of sadistic werewolf Lynette Barber, so she can perform a ritual to reverse their curse. When she meets a handsome guitar player, her secret becomes a curse of its own.

Blake de Marco is a waiter, guitar player and a werewolf. Hating his curse and Lynette, he sets out to find a way to stop her only to find he is drawn by the scent of a beautiful woman.

Can their love withstand the truth or will Lynette's destructive plan separate them forever?