Turning around to put her washed cloth up, she yelped and dropped it instead. Deucalion was standing in the shower doorway behind her, watching.
"How long have you been there?" she demanded. What, she couldn't get privacy now?
Instead of answering her, he moved through the water to stand in front of her. Abruptly, his hand shot up to grip her hair at the roots, yanking her head back and pushing her body to his. Fear made her go still except for her harsh breaths. Pain made her cry out, but he didn't loosen his hold. His eyes flashed Red and his canines lengthened as he put his face next to hers. "The last person who spoke to me as you just did didn't come out of a coma for Six months."
Little alarms went off in Allison's head. She'd heard about the tempers of the werewolves, especially
