Secret Wolves: Supernatural Shifter Academy Series

by Bailey, G.

  My shoulders slump, and I immediately chastise myself for coming so close to hurting one of the men I love. How appropriate, a voice in my head chides. “I’m sorry,” I say as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “You startled me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Silas echoes, running a hand through his dark hair. The room is dimly lit, but I can make out the shine of his chocolate-brown eyes. “I couldn’t sleep,” he explains, adding after a pause, “I wanted to see you.”

  “I couldn’t sleep either,” I admit, sitting down on my bed and motioning for him to join me. He takes a seat next to me, hands folded in his lap as he stares at the floor. “My mind’s racing, and I don’t know how to turn it off. All this is…” At a loss for the right word, I throw up my hands in frustration.

  “Complicated,” Silas finishes for me. “It’s complicated.” He sighs, sounding more tired than he ever has before. “I’m sorry about earlier. After the fight. I… My parents—it caught me off guard, and I—”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” I murmur, putting a hand on his arm. “That must have been a hell of a shock.”

  “That’s putting it lightly,” he says, and chuckles without much mirth. “It was like they were back from the dead. They were right there in front of me, and they looked at me like I was a complete stranger.”

  “This reeks of Hawthorne,” I reply, chewing the inside of my lip. “Giving humans shifter powers isn’t enough for him. He’s trying to turn this into an autocracy.”

  “And my parents got caught up in the middle,” Silas says, looking devastated. “I don’t know which is worse: the thought of them being thrown in a cell all these years, just to be brought out and turned into minions, or the thought of them having been on his side all this time. Here I was, thinking they died for their beliefs, when really their beliefs died long before they did.”

  “Hey, that’s not true,” I tell him, turning to face him. Silas still isn’t looking at me, his eyes downcast. Tentatively, I put a hand on his cheek and turn his face so his eyes meet mine. “Your parents did everything they could for shifters. Whatever this thing is, whatever the humans have done to them…” I run my thumb over his cheekbone. “Those people aren’t your real parents. And we’re going to do whatever we can to get them back.”

  Silas swallows hard. “What if we don’t?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

  I don’t even flinch. “We will. Come hell or high water, we will, Silas.”

  His expression softens, the slightest hint of a smile appearing on his face, and then suddenly he lunges forward and embraces me tightly, knocking me off balance. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Boots,” he tells me earnestly. “You’re a miracle. Sometimes I look at you and I still can’t believe you even exist.”

  “I do,” I assure him, stroking my hands through his unkempt hair. “And I’m not going anywhere. None of us are.”

  Silas presses his face into the junction of my neck and shoulder, and I can feel him smile as he replies, “I’ll hold you to that.” The kiss he places there is gentle, tentative, and I catch myself wondering if he, too, is put off by my sudden surge in power, but his grip on me only tightens as I reciprocate the affection and hum in pleasure. Eventually he pulls back long enough to give me a questioning look, to which I simply nod, pulling him in for another kiss. Permission granted, he kisses me with renewed voracity, his hands tangling in my hair as I paw at him in desire. Nothing else needs to be said; we both need this, need each other, and I’ve never been more aware of how delicate our situation is before just now.

  I shrug out of my sleep shirt and Silas’ hands immediately go to my breasts, his fingers gingerly sweeping over them as his tongue continues to explore my mouth. The deftness of his movements makes me let out a soft whine even as his lips mold against mine, and it feels like I can’t get enough of him, even as I explore his strong features and toned body with my own desperate hands.

  He moves closer, gently pushing me down onto the mattress, and then his body is over mine, the heat of it—warm, even for a dragon shifter—coming off him in waves as he traces the lines of my torso down to the hem of my sleep shorts. There’s a question in his eyes, and I nod breathlessly. The next thing I know his hand is delving into my panties, nimble fingers stroking me open as I grow more wet by the second. An inquisitive finger brushes my clit and makes me squirm, and I can feel his gentle smile against my lips as he slides two inside me. The friction makes me moan, aided by the way his hips grind against mine, and the feeling of his thumb rubbing gentle circles on my clit is almost enough to have me coming undone.

  Desperate to prolong the pleasure, I grab his wrist and pull his hand away from me before leaning into him and rolling both of us gently over. On top now, and better able to control the situation, I help him out of his shirt and toss it over my shoulder before getting to work on his belt buckle. Silas can’t seem to keep his hands off me, alternating between stroking my by now utterly tangled hair and touching my breasts, my neck, my sides… And then I finally get his jeans off after a moment of fumbling with the zipper. My sleep shorts and panties follow, and for a moment after I bask in the sight of him: moonlight filtering in between the blinds casts an ethereal glow over his tall, muscular body, and I can’t help running my hands down his sculpted chest, prompting a sharp inhale from the dragon shifter below me. “Sorry,” he whispers, sounding a little sheepish. “I’m kind of ticklish.”

  You learn something new every day. I shoot him a goofy grin before slowly easing him inside me, going slow in order to accommodate his size. The pace I set is slow and gentle, all in the interest of keeping the painful reality of our situation at bay for just a little longer. I’m already wound up, and in spite of my care, it’s not long before I can feel the first stirrings of my orgasm. “Fuck, Millie,” Silas groans, dropping his head back down to the bed as his hands go to my hips, urging me to pick up the pace. I oblige, finding a steady rhythm that soon has my muscles tightening and my body spasming around him.

  My orgasm strikes me almost out of nowhere, making me gasp as I brace myself with a hand against his chest. I clench around him almost instinctively, prompting another curse from Silas before he comes inside me, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises.

  For a moment, we just stare at each other as we catch our breaths, each afraid of breaking the silence for fear of what will come next. At last, I open my mouth to speak, but Silas’ hand flies up, cups the back of my neck, and drags me down for a passionate kiss. “Thank you,” he murmurs against my lips. “I needed that.”

  “I needed it too,” I reply. “I love you. You know that, right?”

  “I love you too, Millie,” Silas responds without a second’s hesitation.

  Smiling, I kiss him for another moment, savoring the contact, before climbing off of him and sliding under the covers and turning to look at him. “Do you want to sleep in here with me tonight?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he replies, and settles into bed alongside me. It’s a tight fit, but we manage, the dragon shifter sliding a protective arm around my waist and resting his forehead between my shoulder blades. Our situation hasn’t changed at all, but in the moment, maybe that doesn’t matter so much.

  And finally, as we lie there silent and tangled in each other’s limbs, we sleep.

  Chapter 71

  “Rise and shine, lovebirds!” The sound of Landon’s voice pierces through my haze of sleep, and for a moment I forget where I am… that is, until Silas groans and buries his face between my shoulder blades. Landon, who only seems to be further egged on by this, lets out his characteristic laugh, and in spite of being roused from a sound slumber, I can’t help but grin as I rub at my eyes. Silas, for his part, pulls the blanket over his head, although not even the funk he was in yesterday is completely resistant to the siren shifter’s charms. “We won’t be having any of that,” Landon goes on, marching over to the window and tugging the drapes back.

&nbs
p; We’re immediately greeted by a shaft of bright sunlight, making me blink my eyes furiously. “You know, in most other situations, this kind of behavior would be considered weird, Landon,” I tease.

  “Yeah, well, most ‘other situations’ don’t involve one girl sharing four guys,” Landon snarks back, his eyes twinkling. “Not that I’m complaining,” he adds, and winks at Silas, who is only just now sitting up in bed.

  “What’s going on?” the dragon shifter asks, running a hand through his dark locks.

  “Nothing,” Landon replies, “except it’s going up on eleven. If we’re going to stay in town, we’re going to have to at least move to another inn. We’ve already stayed in one place longer than we probably should have.”

  “Fuck, seriously?” I glance at the clock on the bedside table, and sure enough, it reads quarter to ten. I groan, leaning down to fumble for my discarded clothes. Modesty is something we seem to have collectively left behind, at least as far as I’m concerned. Once I’m fully dressed, I drag myself out of bed and stretch… only to be surprised at what I feel.

  Normally, the day after a fight—especially a particularly violent one, like yesterday’s—I’m stiff and sore, if not from outright injuries than from the exertion and adrenaline. Even with my shifter powers, that’s how it’s always been; the human body can only take so much punishment before it starts to complain and demand to recuperate. This much is made obvious just by glancing at Silas, who has donned his jeans but is still bare-chested: the dragon shifter’s entire torso is littered with bruises, remnants of an untold number of cuts, scrapes, and blows from both magic and sheer, brute force.

  But when I glance down at my own body, I see nothing of the kind. No cuts, no scratches, no scrapes—not even the telltale pattern of blue and yellow bruises I would have expected after my tangle with the agents on the rooftop yesterday morning (was it really only yesterday? It already feels like it happened ages ago…). Curious, and a little put off, I stretch my muscles again, longer this time, and once again, there’s no pain, no stiffness, no exhaustion. In fact, I feel as if I’ve slept a whole day, already prepared to spring into action.

  I feel like I could fight an army, and that scares me more than Hawthorne ever could.

  “You okay, Boots?” I turn around to see Hunter poking his head in through the door. “You’ve gone pale.”

  “Shoo, vamp,” Landon says teasingly. “You know what they say: three’s company. Four’s a crowd.”

  “Har har har,” the vampire shifter mutters, rolling his eyes. “I’m serious—is she okay?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, and then shake my head quickly. “I mean, no. I mean… Physically, yes. I’m better than okay, actually. That’s the problem.”

  “How is that a bad thing?” Landon asks, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky. I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.”

  “Exactly,” I point out, hauling my shirt back up to expose my torso (and not missing the longing looks each of the guys cast in my direction). “Look: no bruises, no cuts, nothing. I got tossed around pretty good yesterday. Between the fight at Theo’s place and the attack during the ritual… I’ve never come out of a fight totally scot-free. Ever. And it’s more than just that,” I go on, dropping my shirt. “I feel better than okay. Like if you told me to run a marathon, I could do it, no questions asked. It’s almost…” But I trail off. As absurd as it is, the word “superhuman” catches in my throat. Positive or not, it’s abnormal.

  And there’s no guarantee that it is positive.

  Hunter frowns, leaning against the doorframe. “That is weird.”

  Silas, holding his hand to his forehead like he has the world’s worst hangover, makes a face. “Could it have been a side effect of the potion?”

  “Josie never mentioned this,” Hunter replies.

  “None of us knew what to expect, though,” Silas points out, tugging his shirt over his head. “Maybe this is some kind of added benefit. Your human form is less susceptible to damage.”

  “Could be a coincidence,” Landon says, although there’s doubt written on his face.

  “Lucky coincidence,” says Hunter.

  “Yeah,” I say. Damn lucky.

  * * *

  Shade is already outside by the time we check out and leave the inn, perched on one of the low stone walls bordering the slow-moving river that crosses through town. “You guys have fun last night?” he asks me and Silas, with a pointed quirk of his eyebrow. Silas rolls his eyes, which prompts a shit-eating grin from the wolf shifter. “Just saying, Aconyte, save some for the rest of us.”

  Silas waves him off, moving to stand in the shade of a nearby oak tree. “So,” he says, jamming his hands in his pockets, “what are we doing?”

  “I vote we check up on Josie,” Hunter responds. “She might have some insight for us on this whole brainwashing thing.”

  “And if she doesn’t?” Silas asks, in a tone of thinly veiled frustration.

  Shade turns to him with an expression of surprising earnestness. “Then we’ll keep looking until we find someone who does.”

  The dragon shifter scuffs his boot in the dirt, really smiling for the first time since yesterday. “Thanks, Shade.”

  The wolf shifter simply shrugs. “We’re family.”

  The sound of a phone ringing nearly makes me jump, and I turn to see Hunter groping in his pocket. He frowns as he pulls his cell phone out and holds it up to his ear. “Hello?” There’s a pause, and then his expression softens. “Hazel! Thank fuck!” I find myself letting out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. My best friend survived another day. “What happened?” Hunter asks. “Did you make it out? What about the twins?” There’s a long pause, and then the vampire shifter nods and holds the phone out to me. “She wants to talk to you, Boots.”

  Not needing to be told twice, I seize the phone and press it to my ear. “Hazel!”

  “Millie!” the relief in her voice is palpable, even from miles away. “Where are you? We thought you guys had been taken - we couldn’t find you anywhere.”

  “We made it out,” I reply. “We’re all safe, don’t worry. You?”

  “Same here,” she replies, “although Ruby broke her arm. She’s recuperating now - it will take some time, but at least we’re safe.”

  “Where are you guys?”

  “Edinburgh,” she replies.

  “What-” I begin, but she cuts me off.

  “That fight hit us hard,” Hazel continues. “Theo nearly got killed. A lot of the others weren’t so lucky. There was no way of holding the base. There were just too many of them. He wanted to stay and look for you, Millie, but the rest of the group was in danger. We had to get out.”

  “So you went to Scotland?” I ask, confused.

  “Yeah,” the siren shifter replies. “There’s a whole district full of shifters here, and they hate the Academy as much as anyone. They’re putting us up, and Theo’s working on assembling an army.” There’s a pause as she takes a breath. “He’s taking the fight to the Academy, Millie. It’s our only choice; we’re out of time.”

  I suck in a breath. “What do you mean? Did something else happen?”

  Hazel is silent for so long I’m starting to wonder if I lost the connection. “It’s Hawthorne,” she says finally. “We heard from some of the students back at the island. It sounds like…” Her voice catches, and she clears her throat. “It sounds like he gave himself shifter abilities, Millie.”

  She continues to speak, but I can’t say I’m quite listening to what she’s saying. My brain is still hung up on that last, dreadful bit of information, tunnel vision threatening to consume me as a faint ringing sound assaults my ears. It feels as if all the fight has been drained right out of me, and suddenly just staying on my feet seems like an impossible task. I slide down to the ground, putting my head in my hands. “...Millie? Millie? Are you there?” At last Hazel’s voice comes back into the forefront as I beat off the panic attack threatening to overtake me. Sensing
something amiss, Landon hurries over to me, sitting down next to me and rubbing soothing circles on my back. The motion helps bring me back down, and at last I’m able to respond.

  “Yeah,” I manage. “I’m here.”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  I clear my throat. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “He’s gone insane,” Hazel reiterates. “It’s more than just the Academy now; he has groups of soldiers scouting the major cities, sowing chaos. More shifters are dead because of him. Whole communities are being threatened.”

  “But why…” I begin.

  “If the rumors are true, and he does have shifting abilities, then he has no need for shifters anymore,” Hazel says. “We’re all expendable now, and he knows it. I think he’s trying to install himself as some kind of… behind-the-scenes dictator. His goals go past the shifter communities, Millie. He wants to use his powers to rule the world.”

  The prospect is so cartoony and absurd that it’s enough to make me laugh, but I can’t manage even a chuckle. Hawthorne gave himself powers. Some way, somehow, he finally got what he wanted. And that’s no laughing matter.

  “What do we do?” I ask, although whom the question is directed towards, I can’t say for sure.

  “Did you get your powers back?” Hazel asks, point blank.

  “Yes,” I reply. “Yesterday. It’s… a bit more than I bargained for. There are some odd side effects.”

  “Side effects?”

  I shake my head uselessly, looking around at the guys, who are all listening intently. “I don’t know,” I admit. “It feels like I’m stronger than I was before. More durable.” More bloodthirsty, adds a small voice in my head. More prone to violence. But I don’t voice this last bit.

  “Good. Brilliant.” Hazel sounds relieved. “We need you, Millie. There’s no way we can win this fight without you.”