While I anticipate the wait for it, I wanted to share a quick except.
Dylan Bane wants a night off so his wolf can howl. During his romp, a mysterious stranger joins him for a night of passion. Their encounter leaves Dylan smitten.
Sophia’s stalker has returned, and she needs Dylan's help. Dylan enlists the assistance of the owner of Rogue Inc. His uncle brings with him Altan King who captures Dylan’s eye. While Dylan defends Sophia, he discovers the man he had his midnight tryst with has been under his nose all along.
With danger abounding and two men vying for his heart, Dylan must protect Sophia and not succumb to his heart’s longings.
The darkness concealed him, so he could unleash the beast. He stripped his clothes, folded them neatly on the bench, and felt the heat of the shift. Sweat drenched his body as he stretched and fell to the ground. This was the only part he hated about switching his shape. The initial pain of breaking every bone in his body so the wolf could be free. If any non-shifter saw him, they would think he was having a seizure or a contortionist had escaped from the circus. His fingers stretched and his nails curled to thicken into claws. His vertebrae crackled like popping corn in a microwave. The agony of his reforming muscles was quickly washed away as Dylan settled into his other form. The wolf. Once it lifted its nose to the sky and howled its existence to the world, his animal mind took over, keeping the more rational side always alert to the threat of discovery even in the sanctuaries they were given.
Dylan sprinted across the park, catching the faint trails of other shifters along with the most recent ones. He leapt and stretched his legs until his sides heaved from the exertion. He howled at the moon and paid homage to it until it had crossed the sky and hung low in the horizon. Dylan lay in the grass, rolling around on his back, trying to get to the perpetual itch that he could never get, when the breeze pushed the scent of another shifter toward him. He stopped rolling and stilled on all fours on his stomach, ears perked and alert. He lifted his snout and sniffed the wind. The shifter had an intoxicating aroma he hadn’t caught before. It was so strong that it enticed him to follow. He stalked the musky odor until he came to the bushes and saw a man, about seven feet tall, lean but muscular, with olive skin that glistened in the moonlight. His brown hair hung down his shoulders. His toned ass made Dylan stop and examine him more.
“I know you’re there. I caught your scent, and I’ve watched you dance under the moon.” His voice was like silk against Dylan’s skin, with a low resonance that shivered his insides. “Forgive me for not announcing myself as is the custom, but you were so spectacular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
Dylan took a deep breath and willed himself to human form. The man had still not turned around to face him. Now that he was human, Dylan saw the scars on his back, white marks showing the torture this man had endured for someone’s pleasure. “Who are you? Turn around.”
“No, my lord. I could not face you.”
That voice. It nearly made him moan. This other man’s words aroused him so much that he thought about claiming the other man’s ass. But then the words struck him. “Lord? I am no lord.”