Read Lone Wolf Pack 06 - A Future for His Werewolf Warrior for Free Online Page A

turn into men who looked like they'd walked off the cover of Playgirl. They didn't turn into men, period.
    Ward pinched his arm in an attempt to snap himself out of the peculiar dream, but nothing happened. The naked not-wolf was still there. "W-What the hell is going on?" Ward managed to stammer. "How is this happening? Is this even happening?"
    "It is," the man replied. "I'm a shape-shifter, and I assure you I'm very real. You're not dreaming and you didn't have a car accident—well, other than the one where you ran into me."
    "So... You're what? Some kind of werewolf?" Ward suppressed a bout of hysterical laughter when the man nodded. "Okay, I think I need you to get dressed now. I can't have this conversation with you naked, and I'm profoundly uncomfortable with the presence of a nude stranger who can turn into a wolf."
    The man winced, but didn't try to argue on that point. "I'm afraid I left most of my clothing at my den."
    "Den," Ward repeated in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me."
    Obviously, the stranger was not kidding, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, since it gave Ward something to do. He left the couch and headed up to the bedroom, studiously thinking only about his self-assigned task—to find the guy something to wear. It wasn't easy, since rummaging through his bags didn't nearly provide a sufficient distraction. His internal self seemed to be running around in circles, flailing and screaming, "Werewolves! Magic! A hot naked guy!" There was very little Ward could do about it, and all things considered, he didn't think anyone could have blamed him.
    Despite his complete lack of focus, he managed to find a pair of sweatpants that would probably suit the stranger well enough. When he turned, he found the man waiting in the doorway.
    It reminded him of the wolf who'd come after him in the kitchen, which was oddly endearing. He chased back the thoughts and tossed the man the sweatpants. His unexpected guest caught the item of clothing with ease. Ward looked away, even if a wicked part of him nudged him to feast his eyes on the gorgeous specimen of masculinity in his bedroom.
    But if there was one thing Ward knew at this point, it had to be that a werewolf would make an awful rebound guy. He had no idea if this was real, or what the strange man wanted with him. It was all too confusing, and Ward half wished to close his eyes and pretend this wasn't happening.
    He supposed he should have been more surprised or more frightened, but after spending the last half hour or so cuddling a mammoth wolf, maybe he'd become desensitized to the shock. Or maybe he was simply losing his mind.
    He decided he needed to address at least some of these questions, because otherwise, he simply would not be able to function. "Okay. So first thing, first. What does all that mean—that you're here for me? Who are you really? How did you come to be here?"
    His hands trembled as he let out every dilemma on his mind. How had his proverbial great escape turned into him meeting a werewolf? And seriously, he needed to stop watching werewolf movies, because he was letting his curiosity get the better of his self-preservation.
    The man lifted his hand, like he wanted to reach out to Ward. He let it drop and crossed his arms over his naked chest. He was just as distracting even after pulling the sweatpants on, and Ward congratulated himself for managing to focus on the stranger's words, not his sculpted physique. "My name is Mathias Girard. As I was saying earlier, I'm a shape-shifter, although just half werewolf. I don't want to confuse you with more details of my legacy. I didn't plan on running into you, or scaring you, or spying on you. It simply... happened."
    Ward supposed that made sense, since he'd been the one to run into the then-shape-shifted Mathias. And God, how was he even thinking about this without screaming? Maybe it was worth it simply because it kept him from dwelling too much on his failure of a love life.
    Still,