sable

He stalks toward me, hulking and broad-shouldered with his hands curled into fists at his sides. His ash brown hair is windswept from his race after me, and his honey-colored eyes are unblinking as he looms over me.

Fear creeps into my consciousness, and I cringe away from him. I’m not used to being scared of Ridge—he’s the one who has been most like a protector to me, my champion since the night he dragged me out of Devil’s Ditch after I fled from my uncle’s truck. Ridge is firm but gentle, gruff but kind. Unlike some of my other mates, he never gets this caught up in his...