Night Discovered: A Night Wolves Prequel

by Godiva Glenn

  NIGHT DISCOVERED

  A Night Wolves Prequel

  GODIVA GLENN

  NIGHT DISCOVERED

  Copyright © 2017 by Godiva Glenn

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Follow Godiva Glenn at GodivaGlenn.com

  ONE

  Damon wandered around the outskirts of the boisterous party, amused at how eager humans were to drink and dance near a precarious bonfire. This was his last night in town, and luckily it fell on the same evening as this event—whatever it was. One of the humans had called it tailgating. He didn’t understand the significance.

  No matter. He held an empty cup in his hand, just to blend in. One thing and one thing alone would tempt him tonight.

  Across the fire, a group of young women were preening, pretending they didn’t notice him watching. Out of the few that didn’t reek of cheap liquor, he couldn’t decide which seemed the worthy conquest. Who would let him go further? The blonde, or the one with pink braids? He smiled at the group, baring his human form’s perfect white teeth and running a hand through his short black hair.

  Whichever one he asked to join him, he wanted to show his wild side. Always a risk, but then again, he wouldn’t see this town again.

  The bonfire popped, and as a log settled, a fresh burst of heat escaped. Those closest to it stepped back, and a fresh layer of laughter rang out. Side-stepping a drunken frat boy, Damon tossed his cup aside and flipped a coin in his mind. Heads—pink braids. Tails—the blonde. The frat boy doubled-back and collided with Damon, but before he could push the fool away, a strange scent tickled his nostrils. Leaning down, he sniffed the young man’s pink collar.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” the frat boy slurred. He tried to slap Damon away, but Damon took hold of his shirt and pulled him close.

  “Who were you with?” Damon asked.

  “Huh? Look, what? I was just playing with—”

  “Who?” Damon growled.

  The man pointed a shaking hand across the bonfire. “Charlotte.”

  Damon narrowed his eyes at the lone woman seated at a picnic table beyond the pointed finger. He took a deep breath. Lupine? But what was she doing here? He dropped the man and shoved him away before stalking towards the tables and benches in the shadows.

  As he approached, the woman glanced up with a confused expression. He froze, not wanting to startle her. He’d never run into another lupine flying solo, so to speak. There were only so many explanations for her to be here, and yet he immediately crossed off the chance that she was a runner like himself. Something about her smelled… lost.

  She looked around, eyes only catching him for a moment, and returned to staring down at the table. Several cans surrounded her, but she didn’t appear drunk by any means. She seemed bored, and she kept rearranging the thin blue strap of her tank top, which kept falling down.

  The wind shifted, blowing through his hair and ruffling his shirt. Again, the young woman lifted her head. This time she stared at him. He waited for recognition, a look that would tell him she knew what he was, but it never came. Instead, she looked unnerved. Frightened, even.

  She rose and walked briskly away, her short black skirt ruffling in the breeze. Her tiny form, five feet of delicate curves and lean muscle, disappeared between the trees lining a path.

  Stumped, Damon didn’t rush to follow. There were no active packs in this region. He’d made sure to check before passing through the area. Was she doing the same? Passing through? Again, something told him no. She could be an outcast, but it took a lot to get tossed from the pack. She didn’t look the type.

  He walked to the table where she’d sat and sucked in a deep breath.

  Her scent was a sweet mixture, like berries and midnight, and carried an odor of wolf. He followed its trail down a winding path from the bonfire and revelry to a dark building. Earlier in the day, he’d seen the humans using the grills inside this place. The building was shaped like a cabin, but only one side had a full wall. It was more open space than anything else. Was she trying to hide, though?

  The thrill of hunting her plucked a wild chord within him. His wolf rose, eager to play this game. Perhaps that’s what she wanted, then. Females of his kind loved the thrill of a chase. He stood still and took in the sounds of the night while his eyes adjusted and searched the darkness. Given the sharpness of his night vision, the sun may as well have been out. Her light, breathy pants made his adrenaline spike, and he followed the sound to find her crouched behind a counter. It wasn’t much of a game after all.

  Up close, he admired the long black hair that fell around her face like a silky curtain. The hunt didn’t last, but she was still a nice find.

  “Poor spot to hide,” he commented, slightly disappointed.

  She gasped, and her pounding heart echoed in his sensitive ears. “What do you want?”

  “I thought—” He let it drop. The fear in her tone confused him, and her gently angled eyes glittered as if they held back tears. He lowered his voice. “Never mind that. Charlotte, right? Are you okay?” She stared up at him like she expected him to hurt her, filling him with unease. He’d never encountered a scared female like this.

  Her gaze darted around. “Please, just leave me alone, okay? I don’t know what you are or who you are but, I won’t say a word. Just leave me.”

  Damon squatted down, assuming his over six-foot frame did little to ease her discomfort. At eye level, he raised his hands, displaying his empty palms. A sign of showing no aggression, something he’d seen the humans do. “What I am? I’m like you.”

  “Your eyes are glowing. Like fire,” she whispered. “Are you a monster like me?”

  He sat back. Is she serious? “Sister?” he asked. “Where is your pack?”

  She shook her head. “You mean my purse? I don’t have anything.”

  Damon scrubbed a hand over his face. Was it possible? Didn’t she know what she was? He reached for her hand, but she flinched away. “I’m not going to hurt you. We need to talk.”

  She nodded, but her already racing pulse sped more. Her body slumped forward, landing against his outstretched arms. She fainted?

  TWO

  Damon carried the unconscious Charlotte through the dark woods, away from the party and any spectators. A fainting wolf was yet another first in his book. He didn’t think it genetically possible for a female wolf to be so timid. In his pack, the females were more prone to aggression.

  He set Charlotte down on a blanket beside his motorcycle before rummaging through his packs for a bottle of water. He grabbed one and sat beside her. Where on Earth did this little one come from?

  Minutes passed before she roused and sat up. He held the water bottle within her sight, hoping it would calm her. Thankfully, she snatched it, but her eyes scanned the darkness and her heart once again raced.

  “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. “But I’m not a threat.”

  “You’re like me,” she said softly.

  “Yes… Do you know what that is?”

  “Monster. Cursed,” she mumbled. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the cap on her water. “Werewolf.”

  He arched his brow. “We aren’t cursed or monsters.”

  �
��Are there many of us?” she asked unexpectedly.

  Shrugging, he grabbed the bottle from her and opened it before passing it back. “Not here. This isn’t our territory. Which brings me to wonder why you are here.”

  “I go to school here,” she replied defensively. “I just started an MBA program.”

  He laughed. He’d never heard of a wolf going to college. And what was an MBA? “Your pack let you come here alone, when you don’t seem to know… Wait, were you serious when you said you have no pack?”

  “Pack of what?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, trying not to yank it out. “Are you telling me that you are alone? Who taught you our ways?”

  She stared down at her water before taking a long drink. Wiping her mouth, she looked around. “I don’t think my eyes glow like that.”

  “What?”

  “Sometime last year, I got angry. I punched a wall. But my hand changed. It got huge and—covered with white fur. It grew claws. Then I was out camping, and one minute I’m sleeping in my tent, then next thing I know I’m crawling around on the ground and I can’t talk and I—well.” She chuckled, though her story wasn’t funny. “It kept happening. Every full moon. And the claws, sometimes they come during the day.”

  “Your parents didn’t warn you of this?”

  “I’ve never hurt anyone,” she added quickly. “Some nights, it was close. Damn, but sometimes people smell like… but I would just hunt around. I have a knack for catching rabbits.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly.

  “Is it?” she sniffled. “You smell so good… like home, but I don’t even know what that means.”

  He opened his arms and she accepted, dropping the bottle and crawling into his offered embrace. He nodded and brushed his fingers through her soft hair. “Your parents?”

  “None. I was found, abandoned. But no one ever adopted me. I’m only here on scholarships. Honestly, I…”

  “Your wolf must have adapted to human life,” he mused. “Most lupine can’t survive outside of the pack without going mad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stroked his fingertips along her bare arm. His wolf was abnormally curious about her, as was he. Her existence didn’t quite make sense. “The presence of pack and the spiritual ties to our land and ancestors keeps us strong. Usually, if a lupine is away from that, the balance between our forms is broken. The wolf takes over.”

  “Literally?” Her voice shook.

  “Yes. They shift into their wolf and are trapped like that.”

  “But then how and why are you here?”

  “My wolf and I have a special bond and strength. Not all can leave the pack, but most that have the ability use it for good. I still feel the pull, but I can be away from my pack for up to months at a time. I’m a runner. I travel between packs, delivering messages. But I occasionally take detours.”

  “Detours to college parties?” She glanced up.

  Damon grinned and looked away, feeling suddenly foolish. “I have needs. The women are usually nice—” He placed a finger over her mouth. “Before you get riled up, I can smell a sober woman, and yes, I do mean woman. I’m not here for the freshmen. I think the ones I find are called grad students. Sometimes I catch a professor.”

  Shaking her head, Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I was going to ask about the… needs. So is it a wolf thing to constantly want—you know?”

  “Definitely.”

  They sat in silence. Her sweet aroma relaxed him. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but where to begin? He only had a night. His pack wouldn’t handle his further absence well. The council had to suspect he was sneaking in personal time between assignments by now.

  “If it’s not a curse, then what is it?” she asked.

  “We aren’t humans who are cursed,” he explained. “We have three forms: man, lupine, wolf. The lupine came first. The wolf was the next adaptation. Then the human form.”

  “Lupine…”

  “The formal word for our kind and our ways. The form that straddles man and wolf. Some call themselves werewolves, as you do. Or shifters. It’s all the same.” He leaned back, giving her space. “I suspect you’ve never taken that form. You only transition partially, when emotions are high.”

  “The claws? Yeah. When I’m stressed, usually.” She held out her hand and turned it, examining it under the moonlight. “If it’s not a curse, then why do I have to change every full moon?”

  “It’s a reminder. A spiritual obligation. Our lupine forms are the balance, but we rarely use them. Our wolf form, same. As a result, the moon pulls us down to the ground and reminds us to pay homage to our wild side.” He combed her hair back and behind her ears. “The wolf is always there. I imagine you’ve sensed yours?”

  Heat sparked, and her pale cheeks reddened. “Yeah. She’s… Well, she’s interested in you.”

  “Makes sense.” He brushed his thumb across her blushing skin. “Tell me. When you noticed me the first time, what did your wolf do?”

  “She… well, I got confused. Sometimes it’s like that, struggling with what I want versus what she wants,” Charlotte said softly. “She wanted to run. But… she wanted you to follow.”

  The admission stirred his own wolf once more. Her close proximity awakened his blood and he discretely adjusted himself beneath her, not wanting to scare her with an unwelcome visitor.

  “Can I come with you?”

  “With me?”

  “Can I meet your pack?”

  The question shocked him. “You don’t want to stay here?”

  “The life I’ve had until now, it was like I was in a dream. Or playing the part of someone else. Until last year, I didn’t know why. Now everything is falling into place and I want to know more. If you can teach me, I want to learn who I am.”

  Damon pondered her request. His alpha, Reid, would easily welcome a new lupine. The rest of the council would have to approve of her to stay as well, but he suspected they would. Her lineage was a mystery, but he could think of a few families who would rush to adopt her. His pack wasn’t large. A new daughter would be a blessing.

  He finally nodded. “Yeah, I think they’d love to meet you. But you realize we have rules? Pack laws? It won’t be anything like your life so far.”

  “That’s fine.” A single tear fell down her cheek and he swiped it away. She blinked rapidly and looked down. “Sorry. Just imagining a place I could belong. Silly thing, I guess. I get emotional.”

  “We all do. Wolves are anything but cold.”

  “I realize it’s sudden, but just being close with you, feeling the presence of your wolf, I assume—it’s making me homesick in a way I can’t even explain. Because I don’t even know what home is, or where it is.”

  He could guess what she meant. No experience he could name or describe could fully capture the sensation of pack. Since she had no pack to call her own, it seemed her wolf was reaching out to his and seeking his pack. “Perhaps your wolf has been hiding all these years, waiting for that home.”

  She met his eyes again, staring intently. “Could you make your eyes glow again? They’ve stopped. But they made me feel safe. I mean, once I was done being scared.”

  The wolf pacing within him tilted its head, amused. He didn’t need a mirror to know the golden hue had returned. “How’s this?”

  With a soft sigh, she licked her lips. Her cheeks blossomed again, and she squirmed close to him, nuzzling his neck. “I have so many questions, but more than that I just want to hold you. Why is that?”

  “I can only guess. The scent of my family, my pack—it’s like nothing else. It’s warm and familiar. If I’m the only other wolf you’ve met, I guess it’s your instinct.”

  “Lucky you’re not some scary monster.”

  Her small breasts pressed against him and she straddled his lap. Eyes wide, he held still while she shifted and got comfortable. His hands searched for a safe resting spot, but her skirt had ridden up and his f
ingertips brushed across her bare thighs.

  “Charlotte.”

  “How do you know my name?” she asked, leaning back.

  “Some guy… your scent was all over him. He pointed you out.”

  “Oh.” She averted her eyes.

  “Something you want to talk about?” He recalled how inebriated the young man appeared. And what had he said? Something like, I was just playing.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she insisted. “I was a little… I was supposed to be his date tonight, but he wouldn’t stop drinking.”

  “That human was to be your date?” Damon put the pieces together. Humans only brought dates to these parties for one reason.

  “I don’t even know him that well. I just thought he could be fun for a night. He got grabby, but not in a pleasant way.”

  Damon growled. “I’ll rip him apart.”

  “Hey!” Charlotte placed her hands on his face and hovered close. “I mean that he was too drunk to be any good. He didn’t hurt me. He just couldn’t… help me. So I sent him away.”

  Gradually, the rage dissipated. She’d just admitted that she was seeking companionship. His dick twitched, as if he needed a reminder of his own mission tonight.

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  Shit. Of course his cock would act up with a beauty on his lap.

  “Is that an offer?” she asked hesitantly. They stared into each other’s eyes. A soft glow crept along her irises.

  “Do you want it to be?”

  “I think the regret would kill me if I said no.” Excitement trembled in her voice, battling shy hesitance. “But, ah. What is your name?”

  He groaned at his own oversight. “Damon. My family is of the Adams clan.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Damon of the Adams clan.” Charlotte angled forward and licked his lips. “So, about those needs we both have…”

  He leaned over her and she fell from his lap with a playful laugh. Her hair spread around her like a snow angel, and the moon lit up her skin. Pearled nipples poked through her thin shirt and his mouth watered. He bit through the cotton and captured one. Moaning, she tangled her fingers through his hair while he nibbled the hardened bud. He released her and yanked the shirt down, exposing her small, perfect breasts. He pulled each nipple into his mouth and sucked until they were each bright red, and her sharp moans were on the verge of screams.