Chapter 1
I jerk awake with a sharp gasp, arms flying up to hug my own shoulders.
No hands. No one.
Just me, curled up alone in the back seat of the long black Lincoln parked behind the estate.
Tonight is my eighteenth birthday party.
Ever since Mom married into this werewolf pack, I’ve been the twins’ little stepsister.
They’re nothing alike.
Caden still smells like motorcycle exhaust and leather; he never misses a chance to dig at the soft, chubby body I used to have. Eric is the control freak—perfect suit, perfect posture, and nobody in the house dares cross him.
Mom keeps insisting that if I just stay quiet and obedient, we’ll all be one big happy family.
Yeah. Right. I still flinch every time either of them walks into a room.
And tonight I completely fucked it up.
My first heat hit early.
Out in the ballroom every male guest’s eyes had started to crawl over my skin until my scalp prickled. Worse—my temperature kept climbing and my panties were already soaked through, the sticky mess making it hard to walk straight. The second Mom got pulled onto the dance floor I slipped out and hid in the car.
No A/C. The leather sticks to my thighs, slick with sweat.
I feel disgusting. And that filthy dream only makes it worse. I was actually fantasizing about my own stepbrothers touching me like that.
Click.
The door swings open. Cool night air rushes in.
I flinch hard, knees slamming together, and yank the skirt of my dress down with both hands.
Caden stands there, one hand braced on the frame. Jacket gone, shirt half-unbuttoned, the streetlight cutting across his face as he looks down at me.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out thin and shaky.
He doesn’t answer. Just frowns and scents the air, slow and deliberate.
Then his gaze drops—right to the tight press of my thighs.
“I should be asking you that,” he says with a dry little laugh, leaning in until his shoulders block the entire doorway. “What’s that sweet, sticky smell in here? You’re sweating like crazy, hiding in the back seat all alone…”
His eyes drag over my flushed face. The corner of his mouth twists into something mean and knowing, like he’s already peeled back every dirty secret I’ve ever tried to hide.
“You were moaning pretty loud just now. What’s the matter, little piggy? The quiet girl who can barely look us in the eye suddenly filling her head with filthy shit like that?”