by Lisa Ladew
Anna lost herself then, with very little knowledge of what was happening, only that the shifters were around her, and none let a vampire get close enough to her to get a hand on her, until finally all vampires were killed by switches and any left herded and held down by bears and wolves and the switches were swarming them and there were none left but there had to be more. She ran deeper into the cave, lighting her own way, leaving the area of not-vampires, running toward any other area where there might be vampires. Running fast, breath tearing in and out of her throat, until something came up alongside her. She stabbed at it with her fyne dagger that had killed two vampires.
It was a bear. She’d sliced into its fur and flesh. It didn’t care. It would take her to more vampires. It turned her, hitting her with its hip, not letting her go farther. Back Anna, back, she heard in her mind, but could not answer. She changed knife hands and grabbed for the bear, but he wouldn’t let her on. She pulled away from him, turned to find the vampires herself. No, the vampires are this way, it said, growled so loud in her mind. It was delicious, that growl, and she had to listen, had to follow. The bear would take care of her. Would give her everything she needed.
It steered her until they were outside, running in the open air, hurtling small trees, ducking under and around others. The haze cleared slightly.
Growler. It was Growler next to her, steering her, taking her away from the nest. That’s right. The vampires are gone. You were amazing.
Growler’s words in her mind made her shiver, and still she could not think. She held up her knife, showing it to him as they ran. Could not figure how to speak back to him. They ran, Growler steering her to a spring and stopping. Anna stopped also, breathing hard, head down, checking herself internally, trying to get a handle on what was going on inside her. Need and hot magic pulsed inside her, so molten that she had to let it out. She formed magicks in her palms, pouring them out on the ground, wrestling with herself, but already needing to run again, to move. The magic inside her only built with the outlet, raising a panic inside her. She set off at a run again, then realized she was wet. Soaking, even her dress and boots and hair. Growler had washed her in the spring and she hadn’t even known. He had rinsed all the vampire stink and energy off of her. Had he shifted to a man? She hadn’t noticed as she’d gripped her knife and remembered her kills.
Growler the bear came up behind her again, steering her as she ran, through the woods. This way, Anna, I have what you need now.
She knew he did.
11 – Prowl, Prowl
Inside a cave they went, down a dark corridor, then into an open, dry chamber, Anna could tell by the feeling of the place. Anna searched for vampires, lighting the corners with orange magicks. Instead, she found a sheepskin bed in the center.
She dropped her orange magicks to the floor near the bed. They gave off just enough light to see by, but only in a circle close to her. Outside that circle of light, a growl sounded. A thick growl. A delicious growl that sent shivers up and down her body.
Time to Prowl.
And oh was she glad it was Growler. She stalked to him, dropping her clothes as she went, until she was as naked as he must be, wet hair trailing down her back. She might have growled herself, she knew not. Only knew when she touched the naked skin of his chest that it was hot and warm and so much not-vampire. But she would slake her killing thirst on his body just the same. She reached out, emboldened by her success, by the Prowl, by who and what she was, and grabbed for his cock.
Yes.
Thick through the middle. Long but not so long it would hurt. Unless she wanted it to hurt, and then she had no doubt it would do the job.
He growled at her hand on his skin. His hips bucked forward. She moved in close and tried to drop to her knees to feast on him but he would not let her. He took her hand gently away, containing her easily when she fought him for the right to palm his thickness. He picked her up, took her to bed he’d prepared, she knew not when, then knelt, taking her with him.
She twisted in his arms, wanting him to move quicker, wanting to direct. “Growler, let me,” she demanded.
He released her and she pushed at him, wanting him on his back. She could see his face in the dim orange glow of her magicks, his intense eyes finding and holding hers, forcing her to slow down just a little. She grappled for control, but could not grasp it, pushing and clawing at him. He went down on his back, breathing heavy, eyes on her, letting her have her way but at his speed.
Her way was to swallow him whole, pushing that just-right thickness as deep down her throat as she could, tasting his saltiness, loving it, wanting more, more more. He growled into the cave, then groaned, then moved his hips, grasping her hair and her head which excited her and she went deeper.
On they went like that, for how long Anna knew not. She thought she might have swallowed his cum once but she couldn’t be sure, as she did not let him go. Only worked him, giving herself over to it completely, until he hardened and hardened more, thickening until she wanted the stretch of it inside her.
He knew. He grasped her hair, pulled it just a little until she slowed. She could think now, had some senses of modesty and control, but it was too late for her. This male knew just how much and how dirty she wanted him and there was no sense pretending different. She watched him with hooded eyes for some sign of what he wanted.
“You are beautiful,” he said. She felt such, with his thick gaze on her, never leaving her face, even as one of his hands roamed her shoulders and collarbone, down to her breasts.
He pulled her hair with the other hand until she loosed his cock from her lips with a slight pop. Her eyes fluttered shut. She liked it so much. The manhandling. The directing. She was no longer in control and it felt good.
He loosed her hair and pulled out from under her, then grasped her shoulder and pushed it to the bed, so she was face down, ass up. He moved her, positioned her how he wanted her, even as she stared at the pulsing thickness of his cock, turning her head to do so as he twisted her so that she could no longer see it. Noises fell from her lips. Begging maybe, she knew not. He growled. She begged more. Please. Yes. Please. Can I have it? Won’t you give it to me? Why do you torment me so?
She could feel his cock then. Velvet hard skin, pushing at her lower lips, seeking the entrance there, but not entering. One of Growler’s hands grasped her hip, hot there, masculine strength pulsing through his skin. The other held his cock, swirled it against her. She pushed against him, getting the thick head of his cock just barely inside her, stretching her already. He pulled away and growled. “You want it, Anna, but is it yours by right?”
She had no idea what he meant, and yet maybe she did. “Yes,” she breathed. “Mine.”
“So be it,” he said, and he leaned forward, invading her smoothly and decisively. Anna screamed, tensing at the intrusion that made her swell and spasm and felt so fucking good that it hurt just a little, which made it feel better. His hand let go of his cock and he grabbed her shoulder, the other hand still on her hip, grasping the flesh there as if she might try to get away. Never. He twisted her, pulling her back until she could feel his cock as deep inside her as any had ever been before. Deeper.
He stayed that way as she pushed against him, mewling into the blanket, trying to make him thrust, damn it all, thrusting on him, until their skin slapped together and the velvet slide took her closer to where she wanted to go. He let her move for a moment, then stilled her with his hands, not letting her move an inch. She almost cried. “Please, Growler,” she said. “I need you.”
“This is a gift, Anna,” he said-growled. “A gift that I give to you this time. You can take it next time.”
She squirmed. Clenched her fists. Tried to work out exactly what he meant. And finally, she relaxed, going limp, pressing her cheek into the blanket, opening her hands, relaxing. Waiting.
He moved only slightly, as if testing her, and when he was sure she meant it he withdrew from her, then pressed back in slowly, making her gr
oan. “It feels so good,” she said, and she let go of any of the last of her wanting to control any of it, spreading her arms wide, giving herself over to the male who had just claimed her completely, even if not with his bite. Orange magicks squirted out of her fingers, spreading out into the cave. The killing magic drained with them.
Anna let herself be good and truly fucked. And when it was over, when Growler had wrung so many orgasms from her that she had lost count, she fell asleep.
***
Anna awoke with a start, wrapped up in Growler’s arms, his naked front to her naked ass. She liked it.
Fertile. She was fertile now that she had killed her first vampire. And Growler had spilled inside her many times in the hours that he’d covered her body with his.
She blinked into the dark, silent cave, not knowing what time of day it was. Or what day it was. Polly had said Prowls could last for days when a lot of vampires had been slain, and until all the killing magic was burnt off, switches could not return to the cosh, could not live peacefully together, so they took the time if they needed it. Anna could not remember how many vampires there had been. Only her two that she had killed, but there had been more in the nest. And then there had been none, and Growler had… commandeered her.
Fear and contentment warred inside her. There should have been nothing more natural than this to her, a switch, having been well-loved by a shifter, but Antimony’s control warped it all.
Growler growled contentedly from behind her, pulling her close to him.
His growl reminded her that she owed him something.
“Thank you for thy killing weapon. It is strong and true. It killed those vampires.”
He growled again. “You killed those vampires. That dagger is only strong because of who holds it”
She wanted to believe it. “And the care of the one who carved it,” she said softly.
Growler growled. After many moments he spoke. “Yes. He cares much.”
Anna held her breath. If he spoke more of it, she would ask him to stop. It had been dangerous to bring it up. He did not speak again. She turned to safer subjects. “Why are you called Growler?”
He growled.
She laughed. “That is the reason? I thought the name came first, before young cubs could growl.”
He growled again. “I was born growling. My mother could think of no name that fit me but that one. She often told me of that when the name popped into her mind, I was growling for milk, thrashing my head back and forth, completely blind and helpless, but not willing to wait for milk to come to me. She did not name me that for many fortnights, calling me only baby fat head, thinking the Great Bear would be mad if she named me after him. Until papa told her that mayhap the Great Bear was the one who placed the growl in my throat and the name in her mind.”
Anna laughed at baby fat head and the matter of fact way Growler told the story, like he’d heard it many times, then recited it many times himself. She twisted in his arms, until she faced him. She could see his hard face in an orange glow that she was not sure where it came from. Her maybe, him maybe.
She touched his face gently, feeling the rightness of it, knowing Antimony would not allow such.
But Antimony was not there.
***
Growler closed his eyes and let Anna touch his face. She ran her fingers down his cheeks, then traced his lips, her finger pads leaving goose bumps on his skin. Thick emotion pulled at him, strong, emotion he would not name, would barely let himself feel. This was only about her need, and at that moment, she needed to touch his face. He parted his lips slightly, his breathing coming faster, as his dick hardened, first with her look, then with her touch. His hard dick was only want though, and it could wait.
She touched one of his fangs inside his mouth. They were short while he was a man, but still longer than it should be. She pressed her hips against him, throwing one leg over the top of him, her finger still slightly in his mouth. He sucked at it and watched her face. Was she imagining him biting her? She might be, her eyes were dark enough, intense enough, to be contemplating that very forbidden act.
Now he was aching and his want would be need soon. He would let her take it this time, if she wanted. If she wanted it fed to her or pounded into her, he would deliver. Anything she could handle was hers to demand from him.
But first, he would extract a promise from her, when she was most likely to say yes.
“I want you to meet me under the giant tulip poplar tree at Coven Springs when the moon is next full.” Which would be in three days.
Anna’s eyes narrowed, “Coven? Why is it called such?”
“No one knows,” he said.
“I dare not,” she told him, grasping him and slipping him inside her. So good, he forgot that her answer had been no.
But he needn’t have worried. She did dare.
Together, they dared much.
12 – Much Changes in Five Years, While Much Stays the Same
Five years later
Growler stopped on his way to his bed, listening hard to the feelings inside of him. His bear growled, then ordered him out into the night, and he always listened to his bear, even if it meant no sleep for him.
He was the alpha bear of Bond element, and that meant he often did the hardest jobs no one else could do. In this case, he was anticipating a job that had not come yet. Antimony believed the Vampire Vant was again close to finding the cosh, and it was only a matter of time before he raided it. Growler would soon be ordered to scout a new location for it that they could hide with magic.
Growler prowled though the cosh first, checking beds, ensuring his Anna was safe and asleep in hers, then headed outside, stealing through the forest as a man, not knowing where he was going, only feeling for the way. He walked for hours as a man, his bear silent, his thoughts on pause. He knew this forest as well as any man or animal, had been involved with countless vampire Undoings across the miles and miles of mountain and cliff and meadow.
He’d been a cosh-shifter for five years, the Bond alpha for two years, and they were not winning the fight against the vampire. They were holding it steady at best, but the vampires recently had begun to seek weapons that could be used against shifters, creating unhealable wounds. They’d lost a wolf to such a wound only last month and it had hurt the cosh, had hurt everyone’s morale.
They had to get ahead of the vampires, had to do more than they were doing. All the switches and shifters felt it, like they were being hurtled headlong at some big moment in the war, and everything would soon change.
Growler raised his face to the moon and the wind, unable to stop himself from taking a moment to dream about his Anna, to imagine her sweet face and her mesmerizing eyes and her complex personality. She was a fierce one, his Anna. Unpredictable, barely tamed. They snuck out of the cosh often to meet in their hiding spots, their love spots, and just the night before had done so. Anna had spoken for the first time in five years about being claimed. Whispered to him that she longed for him to do such to her.
Growler had only growled at her words, unable to say any back. Because the truth was, he also dreamed nightly of sinking his teeth into his Anna’s shoulder. He could imagine it, would do it in the same way she let him ease his thick and pounding cock into her sweet honeypot. He could think of his Anna’s cunthe as naught else but honeypot in his own mind, even though she would tease him if she knew, because whenever he thought of easing her legs open, sliding his tongue ever so slip-slow along her budding flesh at the plump spot that swelled so when he nudged it, worshipped it, teased it till it jumped and spasmed on his tongue, when he did that, making her bite her skirts to keep from screaming into the forest, at that moment his bear dreamed of breaking open a crockery of honey and diving in it face first. Growler would follow suit, pressing his face into his Anna’s honeypot until the scent of her sweet honey would surely stay with him for life, at least in his memories.
Growler shook himself loose of the thoughts. It was not the time. Ins
tinct led him further along the wall of a great cliff that rose high overhead, then to scale up the side of it, and drop down again, bringing him close to the cosh again. He’d walked in a half circle and not found what he was looking for.
His sensitive ears picked up the sound of a female sighing and he froze. None should be in these woods at this hour.
A male spoke and he recognized the voice at once. Sir Dewey, the proper English bear who had only recently come over on one of the boats, called by an orange glow in his eyes and rumors of the Cause of the Forest.
Growler was not the hardass alpha that Boss had been. He’d had no cause for it yet, Sir Dewey being the only shifter Fate had called to his element since he’d been alpha, and Sir Dewey had come in swinging, finding a vampire on the way and dragging it in to the meadow, gaining admittance before any alpha invited him in. The act reminded Growler so much of his own attempted gift to his Anna on that first day he’d arrived at the cosh, that he did not put Sir Dewey through one test, except the one required by cosh law. Sir Dewey had carved himself, of course.
Sir Dewey’s voice was low, but carried to Growler easily, even though the wind was at Growler’s back, and Sir Dewey had to know he was close. Which made no sense, because the words Sir Dewey was whispering to some female were forbidden, no matter if she were human or switch. You could not be a cosh shifter and speak words such as these to anyone. Words too pretty for the middle of the forest. “You are the life in my soul, sweet Theresa. Order me. Command me. Use my body for thy will. It is strong. It will do anything you wish” His voice dropped to a growl that dripped sex. “Order thy servant to pleasure you. He burns to.”
