Starting upright, Sheila clutched the blankets to the lace neckline of her flannel nightgown. Three facts filled her mind like ice water in a crystal goblet: the moonlight spilling through the gauzy curtains told her it was past midnight; Jake's spot in the bed beside her was empty—

And she'd just been awoken by some sort of full-throated howl.

"Jake?" she called quietly, wincing at the warble behind the word. Besides, she could see that he wasn't in the room, so how could he possibly hear her if she didn't employ some volume?

The thought made her smile. She could almost hear Grandmother's dry voice telling her to pull herself together and stop being so addle-patted.

She'd heard that tone from Grandmother a lot when spending summers here at the estate as a child—she seemed to wake from nightmares at least twice a week back in those days. And now that she'd inherited the manor and its surrounding woodlands, she found herself missing the crotchety old lady more than she'd ever thought possible.

The memories strengthened her resolve, and she set one slim, pale foot onto the carpet. After all, Jake had been cracking jokes about ghosts and vampires all week after they'd tucked the entirety of their worldly possessions into half a suite on the fourth floor of the west wing and declared themselves to be moved in. So she wouldn't quite put it past the big nut to pull something goofy like this.

And if he wanted to be goofy, well, she could be goofy, too. Clearing her throat, she called out more loudly, "Oh, my goodness! Whatever could [i]that[/i] have been? And where could my loving husband have disappeared to?" She threw back the blankets and stood, the room's chill icing a shiver through her. "As a young woman now apparently all alone in this echoing old mansion, I should probably go searching for my missing husband amongst these dark and drafty halls! I certainly hope that no ferocious predatory beast is [i]also[/i] roaming said halls!"

Nodding, she crossed the room and stepped through the doorway. They'd chosen the bedroom at the top of the grand staircase, and the moonlight flooding down from the skylight set a lurking shadow behind every one of the giant vases lining the steps. The portraits along the walls seemed to leer or grimace, and—

A growling off to her right made her turn, something stirring in the shadow of the balusters. It rose onto two legs, became tall and broad-shouldered, pointed ears flicking at the top of its head, red eyes glowing where its face would've been. It raised long, muscular arms, claws glinting in the silver light; another howl rent the night, then the thing leaped.

Sheila barely had time to see all this before it was upon her, tumbling her down the hall till she found herself sprawled on her stomach, a heavy and hairy weight squishing her into the carpet, hot breath dampening the back of her neck. "Because," a jagged excuse for a voice panted in her ear, "a house just isn't a home till the first successful hunt in its halls."

With a laugh, Sheila relaxed the iron-clad control Grandmother had taught her and let her body respond to the call of the moon. Her skin crackled, midnight black fur bristling out, muscles bulging and tearing her nightgown to shreds. Rolling over, she easily pinned her mate to the floor, one big paw against his silver-grey chest, and gave a growl of her own.

Jake's grin got extra-toothy, and Sheila knew that, it he'd been standing, his tail would've been wagging like a puppy's. "Shall we call this a successful hunt, then, my Alpha?" he asked.

She leaned over and licked his nose. "You're such a goof," she rumbled. Scooping him easily into her arms, she rose to her full height, her ears just brushing the ceiling, and loped down the hall toward the bedroom door.