Chapter One

Under the harsh light of the meat department in the grocery store, Sherl found herself entranced by the sweet smell of blood and raw flesh. She swallowed as her mouth watered from the scent even as her thoughts twisted away from her body's sensual reaction. Want, hunger and desire all fought for dominance. Her mind flinched away as she realized that her panties were getting wet with eagerness even as her stomach cramped with appetite.

Her eyes locked staring hard at the plastic wrapped, ten pound, beef eye roast on the refrigerated shelf before her. With trembling fingers, she shoved her long, black ponytail off her shoulder. Hunger clawed at her belly as she reached out with both hands to pick up the heavy piece of meat.

"Out-ta my way, I'm takin' that," said a rough masculine voice. The sour milk stink of old beer breath washed over her. Sherl saw a gnarled hand reach for her prize.

"Mine!" she snapped, barely able to speak. Lunging, she snatched the chilled meat from the shelf then turned away to hunch possessively around it. From slitted eyes, she watched the hand snatched away in alarm.

Glancing over her shoulder Sherl saw an older rough-looking man wearing a stained ball-cap and a battered coat, gripping a grocery cart loaded with snacks and beer. Her lips pulled away from her teeth, a snarl boiling up from her as she eyed the threat to her food.

"I want that for my family bitch!" he snapped, baring his own blackened teeth. She could smell the rot on his breath from where she stood. He stepped away from his cart and took a menacing step toward her.

A deep animal growl rumbled from Sherl's chest. If he tried to take her meat from her she would…

'I will bite him.' The thought shocked her, and pleased her.

"I think the little lady want's it for herself, mister," a familiar masculine voice spoke calmly from behind Sherl. "Why don't you have this other one on the shelf?"

Sherl whirled to face the new threat, teeth bared, a growl still rumbling. She gripped the roast hard, her fingers digging deeply through the plastic and into chilled flesh. She snapped briefly out of her feral haze, staring in astonishment. It was her seducer from the Goth club.

He towered over her, two steps away, green eyes merry with humor. His long raven hair, pulled back in a tail, hung over his shoulder rakishly. A long, black leather coat swept the tops of his weather-beaten boots. His personal aroma, of worn leather from his duster, soap and potent male musk, rolled over her in a wave.

"It's okay, Princess, no one's going to take your food." The werewolf smiled as he watched Sherl's brown eyes widen in recognition. It had taken him weeks to hunt her down. She'd stopped going to the club where he'd met and seduced her. He'd been dumbfounded when he had trailed her scent today to the parking lot of a grocery store in his own territory; he lived only a few miles away.

The werewolf noted her perfume of well-worn flannel, baby powder, soap and aroused female. He was obscenely happy to discover that she didn't carry the odor of another male. She had fucked no one since their wild coupling upstairs at the Goth club. He also noted a familiar undercurrent of musk and blood, a scent as familiar as his own.

'Well shit,' he thought. 'This is a surprise.' Guilt speared through him briefly. 'I think I may have fucked up.'

A powerful surge of lust washed over Sherl. Memories crashed through her mind, of his hands on her breasts, his flesh buried within her flesh, screaming as she came in his arms. She choked from the visceral strength of her memories. She took an unconscious step closer to him then cautiously stepped back, reminding herself that she was angry with him for abandoning her at the club without even telling her his name. She watched as his eyes narrowed slightly as he breathed in.

'He's smelling me!' she noted in surprise.

"Who asked you? Shit for brains!" interrupted the grizzled man. "I said, I wanted that one for my family, you stupid bitch!"

Sherl looked back at the old man and tensed to attack. Her eyes blazed golden with unholy feral fury. 'One more step and he's dead meat.' Her lips pulled hard back from her aching teeth. She felt a flare of heat at the base of her skull then a bolt of fire raced down her spine. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck and the down on her arms rising.

The werewolf felt a whisper of power in the air. He thought briefly about letting Sherl take a hunk out of the brainless drunk. 'It might do the old lush a world of good to have a limb amputated by someone half his size. Then again, I really don't need another idiot toting a shotgun full of silver in my territory. Hmm, decisions, decisions. Oh well,' he sighed.

"I said, this one is hers. You can have the other," The werewolf's voice though reasonable, deepened to a bass rumble. He leveled his gaze at the old man, squaring his shoulders and standing his full height. The power of imminent change poured off of his skin, whispering around him like a cloak. Briefly his eyes flared the gold of the beast within as he stared down at the old man with a slight smile. He took a single threatening step toward the old geezer.

The old man blanched, freezing in place. His nose twitched, literally scenting danger. The sour sweat stench of fear wafted from him. Eyes wide, he swallowed hard then snatched for the other roast. The wheels of his cart squealed as he fled down an aisle.

'Hmm, I guess his instincts for survival were better than I gave him credit for,' the werewolf mused cheerfully. He turned back to Sherl. She was staring at him with wide brown eyes.

"Are you okay?" the werewolf asked. To his astonishment, tears trickled from her coffee orbs in silence as she hugged the huge roast to her chest, fingers still digging into the meat.

"I… I don't understand what's happening to me," she sniffed, wiping her cheeks on the sleeve of her flannel shirt. "I'm normally a lot nicer than this but I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to bite him for trying to take the roast. I could have let him have it and taken the other one my self," she rambled. Then her voice dropped to a snarl. "But I just couldn't do it."

"It's okay, Princess," he said softly. "Here, let me help you with that." Gently he pried the roast from her fingers. Strangely enough, Sherl let him take her hard won prize.

"And I… I'm so hungry all the time, and for weird stuff," she sniffled. Sherl had no idea why she was telling him anything. He'd fucked her in front of a bunch of people at the club then left her to ride home with her incredulous roommate.

Taking a quick look around and seeing no one in the vicinity, the werewolf knelt and pulled out a long sharp blade from his boot. After peeling some of the plastic from the end of the roast, he carved a chunk off then handed it to Sherl. Surreptitiously, he re-wrapped the meat, wiped the blade on his sleeve, folded it then tucked it back into his boot.

The hunk was gone before Sherl realized she'd even tasted it. 'Oh, gross,' she flinched.' Now I'm eating meat raw.'

"Princess," the werewolf said very gently, "How long have you been feeling like this?" Kneeling before her, he peered deeply into her eyes as he handed her back the rest of the roast. He watched as her tan eyes flared golden briefly, with the fire of the beast. "How long have you been needing to eat meat?" he pressed quietly.

"I dun-no. I've been eating a lot of hamburger and steak lately…" her voice trailed off. She'd been eating a lot of hamburger and steak every night for the past week and a half. Sometimes snatching it from the microwave while it sat thawing, not even waiting until it was warm, sometimes twice in a night. She watched, as he appeared to be looking for something in her face.

"Princess, we need to talk," he was smiling in a sad kind of way. "Let's go pay for your snack." Sherl dragged her heels, but followed him to the checkout cradling her roast.