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Hidden Demons
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When nightmares come to life, do you fight or do you run?

Markus has a mission—to track down the evil wolf shifter suspected of kidnapping human women and turning them into shifters. Though he spends his nights combing the surrounding town for his quarry, his days are spent gathering information and denying his growing attraction to the beautiful and mysterious Rhiannon.

All Rhiannon wants is to rid herself of her nightmares and earn enough money in her dead-end waitressing job to afford a degree. She's had enough of dead-end relationships to last a lifetime, too. Yet when she falls into the sights of a rogue wolf who brings her worst dreams to reality, the sexy hunk she hasn't wanted to desire comes to her rescue.

Thrust into a realm of fear and danger, Rhiannon must rely on Markus to help her find her way home. But when she learns of his true nature, can she ever trust him again, let alone hope he might love what she’s been forced to become?

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Excerpt

Heart racing and covered in sweat, Rhiannon reached over with a shaking hand to switch on her bedside lamp and then checked her surroundings. She sighed in relief and slumped back onto the bed when she realised she was in her bedroom and not being chased through hell.

"Fuck me." Her voice shook like the rest of her body.

Nightmares were the norm for her. They had tortured her every night for as long as she could remember, but they'd never felt real before. Even now, lying wide awake in her bed, she could feel the razor-sharp teeth slicing through her flesh and crushing bones.

Bile rose, thick and fast. She leapt from the bed and raced to the bathroom, barely making it in time before the contents of her stomach left her body, violently.

Finally finished, she wiped a shaking hand across her mouth and then gingerly climbed to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly when she made her way over to the sink. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, barely recognising the person staring back at her. Her skin was paler than normal, and the large, dark circles around her eyes were at least three shades darker than they usually were. She looked like death had warmed her up, dragged her through a bush backwards, and then threw a bucket of water over her.

Grimacing, she turned away from the mirror and leaned over the bath to switch the shower on. She brushed her teeth while waiting for the old boiler to kick into gear and heat up the water.

Steam began pouring out from over the top of the shower curtain after a few minutes, cloaking the chipped and peeling paint on the ceiling with a white cloud. She stripped off and dumped her sweat-soaked nightshirt into the wash basket and then turned back to the bath. Before stepping under the showerhead, she waved her hand through the water to make sure it wouldn't scald her. She'd been burned by the boiler one too many times since moving into the rickety old apartment, so she always made sure to check first.

Satisfied with the temperature, she moved under the spray. Rhiannon leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the heat from the water seep into her body. She stayed like that for several minutes, just soaking up the heat before washing her body. Fifteen minutes later, she turned off the shower and then grabbed two clean towels from the stack next to the bath, one to wrap around her hair and a larger one for her body.

On her way back to the bedroom, she stopped in the kitchen to switch on the kettle. She grabbed a cup from the cupboard above the kettle and placed it on the side before fishing around in another cupboard for a box of herbal tea. Her nervous system couldn’t handle any form of caffeine after a nightmare, so she made sure to keep a good stock of herbal teas for in the morning.

She fished around in the cupboard for a box of tea and was proud when her hand wasn’t shaking. Earl Gray? No. No caffeine after a nightmare. She passed over an orange cinnamon then a hibiscus raspberry before settling on peppermint—she’d need the energy boost with her schedule. When she opened the packet, she inhaled the sweet scent, ready for her small apartment to be filled with delicious aroma.

She tapped her fingers on the kitchen worktop, impatiently waiting for the kettle to boil. The second it clicked, she poured the still-boiling water into her cup and then left the tea to brew while she returned to the bedroom to chuck on some clothes.

The bed with its twisted and tangled sheets could wait until later. Instead, she headed straight for the chest of drawers on the far side of the bed. After fighting with the cheap, poorly constructed flat-pack furniture for her work uniform, she managed to gather clean underwear and work uniform.

Rhiannon grimaced at the pink, short sleeved swing dress with white polka dots and a square neckline as she laid it out on her bed. The white apron she had to wear with it made her look like a nineteen-fifties housewife. When she'd pointed that out to her boss, Vincent, and asked for a revamp on the uniform, he'd laughed before flat-out refusing.

Vincent thought the uniforms looked cute and fit in with the theme of the restaurant. She thought the entire place could do with an update, but it wasn’t her money to invest, so she had to go with what the boss wanted. That didn’t mean she had to be happy about it though.

Next, she pulled out plain white knickers and a matching bra. Any other colour, apart from nude, could be seen through the thin dress. White ankle socks and canvas shoes finished off the outfit. She'd tried wearing skin-coloured tights when she first started working there, but they kept snagging on everything, so she gave up on them after the fifth pair in as many days.

Instead of placing the underwear on the bed with everything else, she put each item on as she pulled them out of the drawers. But before dressing fully, she dried her hair and whacked it up in a high ponytail and then she began plastering on makeup in hopes of hiding the dark circles under her eyes. Halfway through applying concealer, she remembered the cup of tea brewing on the side in the kitchen, so she quickly retrieved it.

By the time she was dressed and ready to go, she still had a couple of hours to kill. So she picked up her latest library book find and disappeared between the pages of a romance novel to help pass the time.

Rhiannon was both grateful and annoyed at her alarm clock when it went off an hour and a half later. The book was just getting to the juicy parts, but if she carried on reading, she wouldn't have time to stop off at her favourite bakers on the way to work. Not to mention, she would probably be late.

Using an old receipt for a bookmark, she placed the book back on the coffee table and then washed out her empty cup. After a quick trip into the bathroom to check her hair and makeup, she was out the door, grabbing her coat and handbag on the way past.

Other than concealer, which she often used to cover the permanent dark circles under her eyes, she never bothered with makeup until recently, thinking it was more effort than it was worth. But that changed when the new chef started working at the restaurant. Markus Grey.

The man was sex on legs and she wanted a taste, but so did every other woman who laid eyes on him. Well, at least, all of the women that had visited the restaurant since he started there. No matter how much they tried to hide it, she could see the desire burning in their eyes as they watched him covertly. Or what they thought was covertly, anyway.

Rhiannon couldn't blame them. She'd been caught ogling him on several occasions, but thankfully, not by him. Her friend and fellow waitress, Tracy, had been the one to catch her. The woman had eyes in the back of her head.

Wrapped up tight against the brisk morning air, she headed to her favourite bakery to buy her usual cinnamon roll to eat on the way to work. Not the healthiest breakfast, but she didn't care. It was her one sweet treat a day.

Her mouth began to water in anticipation, but her hopes were dashed the moment she turned the last corner. Her jaw dropped and she stared in shocked horror at the scene in front of her. Fear gripped her tightly, but not for herself. For her friends.

The entire row of shops, with the bakers in the centre, was completely blocked off by police tape. Emergency vehicles parked haphazardly along the short stretch of road. Some of the cops were questioning bystanders while others milled around with notebooks in hand. Medics rushed back and forth from the awaiting ambulances to the shop, carrying medical bags and pushing gurneys.

The large shop window had been blown out along with most of the shop's contents, leaving broken glass and debris scattered across the pavement. The white PVC door hung off its hinges, it’s glass panes completely missing.

Her blood froze. Had someone set off a bomb? She searched the scene for what might have happened. No smoke damage, so maybe something else. But what? Firemen wandered around the scene, but they didn't appear to be clearing away their equipment.

Small groups of people had gathered at each end of the street. Those closest to her murmured their speculation. Some thought it was a robbery gone wrong. Others thought it was an explosion. But there was one group who thought it had something to do with their oldest daughter, Mia.

Why would they think that? She'd grown close to all of them over the years, but especially with Mia, who was only a year older than her. Her and Mia had hung out on many occasions, partying together until late into the night, or chilling out watching a movie.

They were such lovely people. They never had a bad word to say about anyone and welcomed everyone with a smile on their face. Rhiannon hoped and prayed they were all safe and well, but she had a sinking feeling that wasn't the case.

A sharp pain shot straight through her heart and tears stung her eyes when the first black body bag was wheeled out of the shop, closely followed by another three. One after the other, the bodies were loaded into the ambulances before being driven away.

By the third body, tears were flowing freely down her face. She swiped at them, not caring about smudging her makeup, but they were quickly replaced by more.

Uncaring that she was late for work, she waited for the fifth and final body. A small glimmer of hope pushed its way into her heart and began to grow as the minutes ticked by with no sign of another body being wheeled out.

Had she missed the other person being brought out? Or was one of them still alive? Rhiannon hoped for the latter.

If one of them had survived, she couldn't imagine what they were going through. The thought of an entire family, especially that family, being wiped out in one go made her heart hurt, but being the sole survivor must be hell.

Rhiannon finally turned away from the bakers a minute or two after the last ambulance pulled away. She was about to continue on to work when a shiver raced through her and an unnerving feeling of being watched flooded her senses.

When she scanned the crowd, she caught sight of a tall, well-built, dark-haired man stood a good twenty yards away in an alley’s shadows. His sombre suit blended with the early morning’s office workers, yet there was a menacing air about him.

Her mouth dried. Despite the distance, she could tell he stared directly at her, his gaze intent and burning, like a raptor zeroing in on its prey.

Leave now! her instinct screamed. She swallowed hard, tore her gaze from him, then hurried on to work.

She always listened to her instincts. They’d never led her wrong.

Yet.

*** Content Warning ***
This book contains content that is unsuitable for some readers.
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