Werewolf Off Limits

Serenity has never learned to say no to the demands of her older sister, Avery. She had lived under her shadow for so long that she doesn't remember what the sun looks like. This time is no different. Avery has talked her into looking after her spoiled boy who, like his mother, is used to having his way.

It isn't that Serenity minds leaving her job. She just hadn't counted on Victor Carter, the local Alpha Werewolf who is in charge of the territory and the house that Serenity now resides in. He is magnetic. Beautiful. Perfect. He is also off limits on account of everyone telling her that he is going to marry Avery.

Except he keeps getting closer to her and she has no idea what she is supposed to do with the interest that he is showing her. He's promised to his sister. The right thing to do is to stay away. Hard to do when he keeps looking at her like she is all he has ever wanted in life.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

“Let go of me right now,” she said and made a strangled noise when he nuzzled her neck, one hand curling in her hair.

“Aren't you just the prettiest little kitten?” he growled and kept her hands pinned above her head with a vice-like grip. He released his grip of her hair to slide a hand underneath her shirt.

“Let go of me!” she repeated, feeling like a broken record, but her brain can't really function, not with his lips so close to her skin, leaving trails of fire against it.

The tips of his claws dug in, just a little, and she let out a hiss that's mostly pain before his mouth is on hers once more. It's hot and demanding and she bit his tongue when he tried to lick into her mouth.

He pulled back with a grin. “I love it when they fight back.”

“That's enough,” Victor's voice echoed in the otherwise quiet room. That was all the warning he gave before he had grabbed his brother by the back of his shirt and yanked him from Serenity, who crumbled to the ground immediately, her knees too weak to hold herself up.

The older, bigger man had his brother subdued in a matter of seconds, pinning him on the ground with a hand on the back of his neck and his knee on his back.

“Apologize,” he growled.

The younger brother looked about her age, somewhere in his early twenties. His shirt had torn during his transformation to a werewolf and if he was thinking of changing back to his bigger form, the thought was dashed by his brother snarling angrily at him.

“Apologize,” he repeated.