Raging Wolf: A MC Werewolf Romance

by Felicity Jordan

  “Get back in, Helena,” he commanded, grabbing her by the forearm. “We still haven’t finished that conversation.”

  “Yes, we have.” She disagreed, turning to face him. “Let me go!” She shouted, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

  “You heard the lady,” Michael grumbled, unfurling his arms, his eyes blazing with unmasked anger. “Leave her alone.”

  “This is none of your business, pal!” The stranger shouted, pointing at him, his index finger inches from his mouth.

  A feral snarl rattled in Michael’s throat. His inner beast was outraged with this human; it couldn’t wait to rip out of his skin and show him what he was dealing with. Still, with so many people just feet away, he was forced to swallow the snarl. Thrusting his arm forward, he grabbed the man by the collar of his coat and yanked him back against his chest.

  “Don’t make me ask twice, boy.” He said in a voice more wolf than man, a yellow glow spreading across his eyes.

  “You…” He whispered; his eyes wide with shock as Michael shoved him back.

  “Move!” Michael cried out, his chest heaving.

  “Do what he says, Tim,” Helena urged, her voice steady. Walking backwards with trembling knees, he stared up at Michael, until his calf bumped the staircase. Then, he swirled around and jumped up the stairs, the noise from the bar drowning out his loud heartbeat.

  “Thank you,” she spoke in a fruity tone, flashing him a look of appreciation, the intoxicating scent of her pheromones testing his restraint. “That guy’s been all over me since I got here.”

  “Then you should go,” Michael advised, dragging his gaze away from her. She smelled like a pastry shop, tempting him to reach out and taste that delight. “His testosterone’s off the charts, and I’m leaving. Who’s going to protect you?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she claimed, sweetening her tone. “By the way, that’s twice in twenty-four hours.”

  “Nah,” he shook his head in disagreement. “He was just trying to get in your pants. He wasn’t going to kill you. Answer me this, will you? Just how in the hell did you blow up that windmill?”

  Her smile faded at his words. “Meet me tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about it.” Her reply came fast, as if she anticipated the question.

  “Are you crazy?” Michael scoffed, glaring down at her. “Your father will…”

  “Let me worry about my father,” Helena interrupted him. “Acheron River. Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  At that, she turned away from him. He had every intention of debating this, but she didn’t give him much choice. Michael scratched his jaw, wondering what to do. Her suggestion had come out of the blue. He expected her to narrate some crazy story about witchcraft, not ask to see him again. At first, he believed that she was up to something. She was the enemy. Why shouldn’t she try to destroy him? Yet, the location of that river disproved that theory. It was by the main road to Shandaken. If she attempted anything violent, there were bound to be witnesses…

  Chapter Five

  Helena

  “Why did you have to leave so early?”

  That simple question plagued Helena’s mind for the rest of the night. It was plain to her why Michael had selected to flee. He was trying to stay out of trouble. Yet, his authoritative presence appealed to her. It was easy for him to get rid of a nuisance like Tim, but that wasn’t the main reason why she wanted him to stick around. That shifter had exhibited selflessness and courage in taking her to hospital. Despite his strong, somewhat cold persona, he had proved to her that he had heart. In a bar full of frat boys and mountain men hitting on college girls, she would gladly hang out with him. She had had enough of both.

  However, that night was just that: A few hours with her friends, plenty of alcohol and some dancing. What about the next day? The day after that? It wasn’t difficult to answer those questions. More of the same, minus the alcohol and the dancing. Qualities like composure, thoughtfulness and understanding were unknown in her world. She did like to have fun from time to time, but there had to be more to life than loud college boys and parties.

  Was Michael any different? She didn’t know him that well, but judging by what she had seen so far, he wasn’t anything like anyone she had met. He looked a lot better, and he also seemed to have brains. If by any chance one of her acquaintances happened to lend a helping hand, they would ask for something in return. That was the mindset of the average man in his early twenties. “I helped you? You owe me.” In any case, Helena was more than willing to see for herself what kind of man he was.

  To her disappointment, the night of their date bore little resemblance to the night before. The moon and the stars were hidden from view. Black clouds were in their stead, along with a torrential rain that drenched everything in its wake. Helena turned her white BMW left and out of the road, regretting her decision to meet him outdoors. She grabbed her umbrella from the passenger seat and jumped out, before scanning the area. Thick raindrops formed bubbles on the frozen surface of the river. The trees along either bank were still covered in snow, despite the rain. She felt solid ground underneath her heels. No surprises there. Helena didn’t have to look down to realize that the soil had been hidden under a layer of ice. She put her umbrella over her head and shuffled off, in the hope that she hadn’t driven to Acheron River for nothing.

  A flash of lightning exposed the figure of a large rock in her path. Helena treaded lightly around it as she drew nearer to the trees. Their lower branches bent under the weight of the snow. She threw a glance over at the other bank, raindrops bouncing off the frozen ground and onto her jeans. More tree trunks and a few bushes scattered around them filled her view.

  “Witches use umbrellas?” Michael’s deep voice shattered the silence. “Funny. I thought you had a spell to shield yourselves from rain.” He added, emerging from behind a cedar tree to her right.

  “I wish we did,” she sighed, his soaking-wet clothes adding to her discomfort. “I’m sorry I dragged you out here tonight. I didn’t know the weather would be this bad.”

  “I chose to come,” he pointed to himself. “Besides, a little rain never hurt anyone.”

  “A little?” Helena snorted in amusement. “Michael, it’s pouring!”

  “So, how did you blow up that mill?” He posed the same question, vapors from his breath rising over his head.

  “Believe it or not, I got ambitious,” she stated, her voice weakening. “Let me start by explaining how a spell works. The witch chants the spell and her energy is channeled into whatever she means to do. Now, there’s this…” She paused. “Spell in our family, which allows us to teleport from one place to another. It’s passed on from generation to generation. Specifically, from father to son. Women can’t use it, because my great-great grandmother betrayed her husband at the time. She, uh…” She smiled in bitterness. “She abandoned him.”

  “I’m not following,” Michael complained, his tone stiff.

  “Let me finish,” she requested. “There’s a catch. Well, three catches actually. First of all, you have to focus on the desired outcome. You can’t be thinking of anything else. When I finished chanting it, I thought of my father. Therefore, my energy stayed in the mill. It shot up and down the building, looking for a way out, but didn’t find one. You know the rest.”

  “I see,” he nodded. “Go on.”

  “The second catch is limited range,” she explained, settling her gaze on his face. “If I ever get it to work, I’ll be able to teleport within fifty miles of my location at a time. Catch number three? I have to have been to the desired destination. Otherwise, I’ll get stranded in the void.”

  “Witches…” Michael gave a short laugh. “You don’t make life easier, not even for your own descendants. Shifters are a lot simpler. We’re in danger? We shift, fight and that’s it. We sense trouble? We stay in our wolf forms. They can do a better job of protecting us.”

  “You see an explosion in the forest? You go and save a damsel in distress.
” Helena teased him, her lips curving into a sweet smile. “Is that a shifter thing or just a Michael thing?”

  “Careful, girl,” he uttered, a touch of annoyance in his voice. “You’re doing it again.”

  Helena lowered her arm and tossed the umbrella down on the ground. She reached up and cupped his shoulders, intensifying her stare. Holding on to him, she tilted her head up. She felt his ice-cold chin brushing her skin, just before her lips touched his. Sparks of electric currents raced down her body as she tasted the wetness of his mouth. She let go of his shoulders and curled her arms around his neck, pressing herself into him. A boom of thunder echoed across the wilderness as he pulled her into his embrace. His strong arms lifted her off her feet, raindrops dripping down her head. Michael swept his tongue across the seam of her lips, his tenderness enveloping her more and more by the second. She wrapped her legs around his waist, stroking the side of his neck. There was no hastiness in his caresses. His hands stayed on her upper back, cupping her through her coat while she relished his kiss. Blinding light shot through her closed eyelids, his grip loosening. Michael eased her down and pulled back, his eyes acquiring the yellowish shade she witnessed the previous night.

  A ferocious snarl marked the beginning of his transformation. The cracking of his ribs forced her to shut her eyes. Gunfire-like sounds filled the air while the handsome man hid under the beast. Moments afterwards, his yip made her stomach chill with fear. Helena had only heard of shifters. She had never seen one up close.

  The site of the dark-brown wolf froze the blood in her veins. He let off one more yip and turned to face the river. Two strides led him to the shore, his tail swishing out behind him. She watched as the wolf leapt over the frozen stream, his flight putting a smile on her face. Once again, Michael Gibson had shown to her that he didn’t mean her any harm. He landed on the other side, his heavy paws cracking the ice. He disappeared in the bushes, leaving her alone in the dark, but longing for more…

  Chapter Six

  Michael

  “Trouble.”

  Even the beast within knew what a terrible mistake he had made. He’d just tasted the forbidden. He’d laid his hands on a witch, and for that, there was a good chance he would pay the price. His punisher didn’t matter. Whether it was Bruce or Dunston himself, Michael would soon perish, because he had failed to show restraint. But how can one say “no” to such a beautiful creature? How can somebody reject the advances of a gorgeous woman? He’d already done that once outside that bar. Disregarding his nature, Helena flirted with him. The signs were too obvious to miss. Her smile, her voice, her posture and her pheromones were screaming what she wanted from him. For some reason though, he had chosen to ignore them. His curiosity had gotten the better of him.

  Galloping through the forest, the wolf sought refuge. Bushes and trees blurred past as he recalled the awkward situation he had just escaped from. Part of him couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it. He loved the taste of her lips in his mouth. He savored the sensation of her wet tendrils against his cheeks. Holding her in his arms sent his heart into a flurry of wild beats. That wonderful sensation had overwhelmed him and robbed him of the desire to walk away. He meant to kiss her over and over again, until he remembered her identity.

  If someone had told him that he would kiss a witch in the rain a week ago, he would’ve called them “crazy.” He would avoid someone who had the ability to suck the life out of him. Still, this was exactly what had happened. Now, Michael was in dire need of a friend. Anyone from the motorcycle club would do. They had been close for almost a decade, but they were also loyal to Bruce. He didn’t know if they would keep his secret or go straight to their Alpha. There was just one person he could confide in: Ray Walker.

  The wolf loped up the hill on the outskirts of Mercer, balls of hail crashing onto his body. Thankfully, his cabin was on the edge of town. None of his fellow countrymen would see him running around in wolf form and sense his confusion. Wolves can smell weakness from miles away, and to them, bewilderment meant weakness. Although he was a high-ranking member of the only motorcycle club in town, they wouldn’t hesitate to go after him. Michael assumed his human form and barged in, his breath coming out in gasps. He headed straight for his bedroom and clothed himself, Helena’s feminine form still swirling in his mind.

  “Witch…” He mouthed to himself, shoving his foot into his boot. “You must have put a spell on me.”

  The knock at his door prevented him from making any more assumptions. He walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs, angry that someone had paid him a visit at this hour. However, when he swung the door open, his anger vaporized. It was Ray.

  “What the…?” He cocked an eyebrow, staring up at his soaked hair. “How long were you out there?”

  “Come on in, man.” Michael sighed, unwilling to give him an answer. He had more troubling things in mind than the time he had spent out in the storm. “I was going to come over your place.”

  “I know,” Ray murmured, heading to the fireplace in the corner. “I was making dinner when I saw you emerging from the forest. Is everything all right? What were you doing out there?” He asked, sitting on his knees.

  “Being stupid,” Michael stated, sauntering across his living room as his friend picked up the fire iron.

  “I’m all ears.” He said, stirring live embers from among the ashes.

  “I met up with Helena tonight.” Michael announced, reaching down into the crate of wood beside the fireplace.

  “You did what?!” Ray exclaimed, his gaze shooting up to his friend.

  “That’s right,” Michael affirmed, tossing a log into the fire. “I’d been wondering how she blew that windmill up. She said she’d tell me if we met up by the river.”

  “I’m just glad she didn’t choose a bar as your rendezvous point,” Ray spoke, sparks flying over the ashes. “Wait a minute,” he continued, narrowing his eyes up at him. “Why did you come back here in wolf form?”

  “Because I had to leave that river fast,” Michael pointed out, pressing his lips together. “She got all…” He faltered. “Flirty with me again. I couldn’t resist her. Not this time.”

  “You fucked her?” Surprise sent Ray’s voice two octaves up.

  “No,” Michael maintained his calm tone. “We just kissed, that’s all. After we did, it’d be too awkward, so, I just shifted and ran like hell.”

  “Shit,” Ray huffed in exasperation, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why did you let that happen, man? Don’t you know who she is?”

  “The whole goddamn state knows who she is,” Michael grumbled, his face hardening. “She made a move on me. What would you do in my shoes, Ray? What if you saw that gorgeous little face so close to you? You’d pass? No. No way. You’d do the same.”

  “Maybe, but I didn’t. You did,” Ray emphasized, getting up on his feet. “Let’s hope she doesn’t tell dear old daddy.”

  “She won’t,” Michael assured, shaking his head sideways. “I got the feeling those two aren’t getting along.”

  “She’s still his daughter,” Ray shrugged his shoulders, his voice coming out lazier than usual. “He’ll think you violated her.”

  “I don’t care!” Michael’s stentorian voice roared like thunder. “Let that prick come! I’ll be ready for him.”

  “Michael…” Ray said in a calm voice, his face remaining expressionless. “That prick has fought battles against shifters before. They didn’t even get to touch him. You do remember that, don’t you?”

  Michael exhaled hard and tipped his head back. “I’m just tired of that same old fear, Ray. ‘Don’t do this, or else Dunston will knock your head off.’ ‘Don’t go there, because Dunston will kill your whole family if he finds out.’ We’re the toughest motherfuckers in the valley, brother. We shouldn’t be afraid of one man.”

  “A warlock,” Ray corrected him. “And it’s that fear that’s kept us alive this past three years. Boy, am I relieved you didn’t bang Dunston’s daughter. She’s going bac
k to college in New York. Problem solved.”

  “She’s still in college?” Michael squinted, his face twisting in an expression of surprise. “How do you know?”

  “I found her ID in my van,” Ray replied. “Brooklyn Business School. My guess is she’ll join daddy’s corporate team after she graduates.”

  “When’s she going back?” Michael asked, an idea flashing through his mind.

  “Duh.” Ray scoffed with a half-smile. “Monday?”

  “That’s tomorrow,” Michael remarked, walking past him. “She must be on her way.” He presumed, looking up at the clock on his wall. It was 9:20pm. “Where’s that ID?”

  “In my glove compartment,” Ray said, strutting towards him. “Dude, you can’t be serious.”

  “You don’t have to come with.” Michael told him, gripping the doorknob. “Give me the keys to your van.”

  “On one condition,” his friend raised his index finger in the air. “You do what you have to do and come right back. You don’t lay a finger on her.”

  “Deal.” Michael gave an emphatic nod, holding his hand out, palm facing upward.

  “Don’t screw it up,” Ray advised, shoving his hand into his pocket. He pulled his keys out, but, just when he was about to hand them over, he curled his fingers into a fist. “Screw it,” he said on an exhale. “I’m driving.”

  “Let’s go,” Michael smiled in contentment. The idea of a three-hour long road trip didn’t appeal to him. He meant to give Helena back what was hers, but he didn’t appreciate driving all alone in the storm. With Ray’s company though, their trip to New York would not be dull or tiring. Michael wished he did this during the day, so that he could finally visit the Hudson River. Still, that could wait a little longer. Helena wasn’t coming back to Dawson Valley for at least two months. He wanted to see her one last time…

  Chapter Seven

  Helena

  For the first time in almost four years, Helena left her birthplace with a heavy heart. She didn’t have much to do there. Yes, she could hang out with Kate and Julia, but that was just about it. Life in the mountains wasn’t exciting. In fact, it was rather boring compared to what she could do in the Big Apple. The few clubs in Shandaken and Payton played country or vintage music, and they were frequented by farmers and married men looking for an adventure. “Purple Rock” was just an exception to that rule. There were no cinemas and the coffee shops were not suited for a young woman like her. Whenever she dared visit one of them, she felt out of place. Why? Because they were frequented by mothers and their children. Most of them were ten years older than her or more and gave her and her friends scornful glances. It was as if they were telling her that she shouldn’t be in there until she got married and had children.