Free Inquisitor (Witch & Wolf Book 1) by RJ Blain

plea of a werewolf. With my luck, I’d annoy one of them and end up cursed. The hinges squeaked as I shoved the door open. I left the necklace on the dashboard. If I didn’t manage to return to human form, at least Samantha would be left with something. Samantha followed, keeping her distance.
    The lure of the full moon had waned, but the need to change roused at the thought of taking to the wilds on four paws instead of two feet. Breathing deep of the cold, wet forest, I succumbed to my wolf.
    Before I had been forced through the initial ritual transforming me into a werewolf, one of the members in my new pack had told me the change was a little like being torn into several pieces, only to be stitched back together again without the benefit of painkillers. The others had agreed.
    For me, it was a little like the shifting of the seasons. It ambushed me from behind, stealing my humanity and casting it aside in the same fashion as someone who discarded a winter coat because it was spring.
    I rose to my paws and shook myself off. Something hugged my throat. With a snarl, I kicked at it with my hind paw. Metal tags jangled. An itch started on my right foreleg, and I attacked it with my teeth. A growl rumbled through my chest.
    My nose burned as I breathed in my scent.
    “Stop that. Bad Shimmer.”
    I froze, bearing my fangs. Fear hung in the air, sweet and enticing. I quieted, so I wouldn’t scare off my prey. She, judging from the sweetness of the scent, was close.
    “Shimmer!”
    It took me a moment to remember that the metal box my prey hid in was an SUV, and the witch within wasn’t prey, food, or a prospective mate. It took twice as long to remember the female’s name.
    Hunt, part of me demanded. Watching the SUV, I bit at my itching skin. Samantha wasn’t food. Samantha wasn’t prey.
    Samantha was pack. Furless, weak, and incapable of hunting. Samantha needed feeding, as did I.
    Hunt , my wolf ordered. I drew a deep breath. The stench of metal, oil, silver, and fear burned my nose. The full moon peeked through a gap in the clouds and bathed me with its light.
    Lifting my head high, I howled.
    There was no answer. A snarl worked its way out of my throat. Of course there was no answer. Samantha was the last of my pack. Humans had extirpated my brothers and sisters from all of the wild places nearby long ago.
    I would, as always, hunt alone.
     
    ~*~
     
    The rabbit squealed and thrashed in my jaws, and I didn ’t wait for it to die before feasting. Its cries ended in a gurgle. I gulped the warm flesh down as fast as possibly without choking.
    There weren’t other wolves to steal my kill, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other predators or scavengers out in the trees, waiting for their moment to strike. My growls rumbled in my chest. The first rabbit, as was my right as the dominant Alpha Female of our pack of two, was mine.
    My weaker sister would get two rabbits, fresh killed for her, until she could hunt with me, until her song joined with mine in the still quiet of the dawn. I was aware of the moon dipping beneath the horizon as the sky lightened to the east. Drizzle dampened my fur. A sneeze burst out of me, the incessant itching of my muzzle intensifying with each breath.
    Dragging my nose over the leaf-strewn ground didn’t ease the itch. If anything, it made the crawling sensation creep over my skin worse. I attacked the worst of the spots with my fangs.
    When I couldn’t make it stop, I took my frustrations out on my rabbit. The tiny bones cracked beneath the force of my jaws. I licked the blood from my muzzle. A breeze stirred the leaves still clinging to their branches. Voices whispered, and I lifted my head, twisting an ear to listen. Snapping the last of the bones and swallowing them, I rose. Sniffing at the air, I stalked after the sound.
    The musk of perfume tickled my nose. Humans, I decided with a silent baring of my fans. Females. I breathed deep, fighting the urge to sneeze. There was