Oliver's POV
"What do you want?" she asked. Her voice was firm, but I could smell the sharp, metallic tang of fear rolling off her. She was trying to act high and mighty, but her hands were trembling.
Ignoring her defensive posture, I reached out and handed her the jacket she'd left tangled in the passenger seat. "You forgot this in my car."
"Oh," she murmured, snatching the fabric from me. Her fingers brushed mine for a split second, and the spark that jumped between us nearly made me snarl.
"Her Scent," my wolf growled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration inside my head. "Take her. Claim her now, make her scream our name."
Unable to stand it any longer, I turned away and made my way back to my car.
"Coward," my wolf spat as I slammed the door.
As I drove away, I slammed my palm against the steering wheel. I was angry for no reason—or rather, I was angry because that woman was a complication I hadn't prepared for.
