by Casey Morgan
One of the guys decks me. Pain shoots through my face, stunning me and causing me to grab at my nose. Then he sends me to the ground with a punch to my gut. His buddy, who I would’ve landed against, moves out of the way, and allows me to hit the pavement.
The brutes laugh. Several fall to the knees around me and grab at my body. I punch and kick at them, determined to fight, but I have little training in this regard and they are much stronger than I am.
“What a stupid little girl,” one hisses as he grabs at my throat.
Another glares at me with beady eyes as he clamps his hands around one of my arms and pins it to the pavement. “What were you thinking, cunt?”
“I bet she just wanted our attention, Larry.” This farmer laughs, takes a sip from his beer, and puts his boot over my left leg. I try to kick at him, but he holds my leg down with his full weight. His boot heel cuts into my ankle.
One man hovers on his knees right beside me. “Hmmm,” he grunts. “Looks like the bitch is packing some grade A sweater kittens. Shall we have a look, boys?”
I squirm, trying to shake their holds, as he reaches down and pulls up my sweater. The cold air hits my skin as my breasts are exposed now only covered by the thin lace of my bra.
“I will kill you,” I screech. I’m truly scared now, there is nothing to stop these maniacs. They are much stronger than me and no one from the bar or the front of the parking lot seems to notice what’s happening.
The farmer reaches up and puts his icy, dirty hand on my breast. I feel like I’m going to puke. He squeezes my boob through my bra and I hiss at him.
As the others gather around me, preparing to do God knows what as a continuation of their assault, a voice growls out of the air like thunder. It shudders along the pavement like invisible lightning, causing my antagonizers to move back.
“Get your damn hands off of her, or else!”
Chapter 4
Cole
The moment I’m able to get away from the men harassing me outside the bar, thanks to her – my future mate –I curse my inability to shape shift faster, to turn from wolf into a man, so that I can come to her aid. I want to teach those stupid little men just how dumb it is to mess with a werewolf, something I couldn’t do in wolf form as it would create suspicion if I let loose with my full strength and ferocity. Werewolves need to stay hidden among the humans and I don’t intend to do anything to change that.
I lose precious seconds with shifting, but it’s necessary. As a wolf, I couldn’t touch those brutes, but as a man I can punch them in their stupid little faces. During my shift in the bushes next to the parking lot, I helplessly watch as my query, my virgin – the woman in my dreams – is abused and assaulted in my place. This is something that makes me beyond furious, but not surprised. Men can be so evil.
Yes, seconds being wasted is too long.
But now it’s my turn to come to her aid. I’ve finally taken back my human form from that of a wolf and am now able to speak and command with presence. I am an alpha, even men will listen to my commands.
“Back away from her. Stand back from her, or else.” I don’t care that my voice sounds breathless, as if I just ran a marathon. Changing forms is a tiring process. I just want those ogres to stop messing with my poor, gentle mate.
She was tossed down onto the ground like a sharply-dressed ragdoll with curly black hair and trendy matching glasses. The same glasses they already did a number on, by twisting the frames.
The brutish men all turn around, deliciously surprised to see me walking toward them. As I do so, I make sure to show all of my muscles off, although I’m in a simple sweatshirt and jeans.
“If you monsters are beating up that poor girl for stepping in to defend a kind, gentle animal worthy of respect, then you are not worthy of mine.” I crack my knuckles for affect, then roll my shoulders making sure every muscle in my shoulders and back raise up. I flex my arms, just to be sure they’ve seen what they’re up against.
Despite walking up to them calmly, I don’t waste a moment. When they don’t move to disperse, I start punching at all of them, picking them up and throwing them away from my prize, my virgin, who is now laying dazed on the ground.
“What are you?” one asks, breathless, as he tries to punch me in the stomach and his blow just glances off my hard abs.
“Yeah,” says another nervously, “What business is this of yours?”
The few idiots I haven’t quite gotten to are dumb enough to insult me and the accent of my voice. I don’t waste any time. I punch both of them right in the face. As I do, the motion making them land more than a few feet behind my future mate, I enjoy how limp their bodies are, how helpless they are against my strength. My body has had time to marinate and hone to a sharp weapon.
The other three guys I dealt with previously don’t get back up. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve decided to get wise, or because they’re knocked out cold. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. As long as they stay down after I put them down, I don’t care for much else.
Especially not when I have the woman I’ve traveled so long to find mere steps away from me. I immediately walk up to her, smiling at the surprise on her face. More than likely, she’s recognized the similarity between my amber eyes and that of the wolf. She’s noticed my tall, imposing frame, my broad shoulders, taught, muscular stomach and chest.
“It’s all right,” I say, enjoying the further surprise and disbelief on her face as she hears my voice, as she really and truly registers it, along with my closeness.
Though we werewolves don’t “warp”, we do travel fast. I bend down, extending one of my hands to her. As I do, I get a good look at her doll-like face: her pink, pensive lips, her blue eyes, and the curly black hair framing her face. I take in her glasses, hanging awkwardly from her ears, but still making her look beautiful, in a bookish way.
“It’s all right,” I say again. She looks like her mind is fuzzy and warm from all the quick action, as well as my nearness to her. “They aren’t going to bug you anymore.”
I move my outstretched hand closer to her, and she starts to move hers up to meet it.
“Come. Let me help you up,” I beg.
Let me take you into my world, and never let you back out.
After standing, my virgin releases my hand quickly. Her cheeks turn pink and she has trouble catching her breath and looking into my eyes. Her glasses are something she can hold onto though, something she can focus on, and she does. She takes them off her face and cradles them in her hands.
“Damn,” she cusses. “I can’t drive. These are too cracked to see out of.”
My future mate just stares in disbelief for a few seconds. I know she is really processing all that has happened to her, not just the state of her glasses. After a few seconds, she shuffles her weight and looks at me by slightly turning her head.
“Thanks, by the way,” she mutters, her voice hushed in the night air. “That was really getting out of hand.”
I just nod and let my calming influence wash over her. She should feel safe in my presence. The wolf in her will know that I’m in control.
“Let me drive you home,” I suggest. “I can drive your car and get you back to your place.” I put a bit of influence and bit of my dominating aura into that suggestion, so she doesn’t find it so scary coming from a man she just met.
She nods and drops her gaze to her glasses again. “Yeah. Thanks. That would be helpful. This way. It’s the Ford Tempo.” She waves for me to follow her through the parking lot and I do.
Taking the coveted seat in the front of my mate’s car, I continue to celebrate my luck. My fortitude is finally paying off, after years upon years of searching for the perfect woman, the perfect mate, I have found her.
As I buckle myself in and prepare to drive her home since her glasses are pretty well broken, I ask her how to get to her place, since I’m not familiar with this town. She lets me know which way I need to turn as we reach stop lights and stop s
igns, specific streets, all of which she points out quickly and efficiently to me, even though she can barely see.
As my one and only mate guides me, I successfully and carefully navigate the trials awaiting me on the road, all with her direction, I let part of my mind return to the plan. To the process I plan to initiate her in, as soon as we arrive at her home and she goes to sleep.
She will need to know me in scent first, that will awaken her inner wolf. Once her true, wild nature takes hold then we will commit to each other and live as husband and wife. We will find a home and live mostly as human. Wolf forms can be left to the woods. They’re allowed to roam free on special nights like the full moon, when all these human beings are in bed and sleeping soundly.
As I’ve had all these thoughts, I’ve continued to drive my mate’s car as she points out the way. Finally, it seems we’ve arrived at the correct building. All of the signs and house numbers are adding up. We pull into some apartments.
It will be what it will be, I think, getting out of the driver’s side, and immediately going around to help her out of the car and to her front door. It must. It’s time to make time stand still for us.
As I take my virgin by one of her hands, close her car door, and prepare to help her use her keys to get into her trendy looking apartment right in the heart of a quaint part of town, I know that the process will frighten her. I know it will confuse her, as she won’t be expecting any of it.
But you’ll see, my sweet. Once I remind you of what you really are and that I’m your alpha, you won’t be afraid. You won’t feel intruded upon, and although you won’t be expecting it, you’ll realize that it’s exactly what you’ve been thirsting for, hungering for and yearning for since you became an adult. You want to be dominated and have your alpha take you.
Chapter 5
Ava
I don’t know who this stranger is, but he may have just saved my life.
I can’t believe what I just saw tonight, and I replay the whole scene in my mind. First there was this big gray wolf with blazing, neon amber eyes and now there’s this guy, this man, a hulking one at that, way over six feet tall. He stood over me, and helped me to my feet, right after beating the shit out of the farmers who were attempting to molest me.
As the tall stranger drives me through town in my car, I notice with a shiver that he has the same eerily bright amber eyes as the wolf did. He’s stretches out his hand, patting me reassuringly on the shoulder, his touch electric and I can barely think. I can barely move, or find anything to say, but it’s not due to any pain or nausea caused by my attackers.
No, it’s from the sheer magnetism of this man; from his sheer beauty, which is overwhelming to say the least. In addition to his magnificently bright eyes, he’s got short brown hair which is slightly ruffled. His shoulders are broad, and his arms are so muscular that they strain the seams of his sweatshirt. He’s easily twice my size and weight.
He could have held me down easily, I think. And had his way with me, but he didn’t. He helped me up just like a gentleman and carefully inspected me for breaks and cuts.
His voice matches his gentlemanly manner, but it also puts my senses on overdrive. It’s so deep and musical with his Southern accent. It lilts and drawls as he reassures me that I’m no longer in any danger.
His already murderously handsome face gets even more gorgeous as he smiles at me. All of him does. I turn towards him in my car seat and his body, a towering “ship” of muscle that seems to go on and on without end, becomes my point of focus. My eyes lock onto his form, until he asks me which turns to take and reminds me that I have to guide him to my apartment.
I do. My brain finally switches from brainless, hot-guy-in-front of-of-me mode, and into logical, put-together-Ava mode as I direct him to my home.
We chat on the way and something nags at me. I feel like I know him from somewhere. His voice is familiar. The feeling of recognizing this man on some level, a man I’ve never seen before in my life, increases as we head to the heart of town. There is something about his voice.
Cole Grayson! My mind puts two and two together. His voice is the same as the one in my voicemail. He gave the offer for helping hands and strong muscles. An offer he can certainly deliver on.
I’m drenched in Cole’s energy. It’s full of masculine confidence, strength, power, and the ability to make drunk even the wisest, most discerning of souls. But I’m not afraid. If anything, I’m even more intrigued and filled with desire.
“That was a very noble thing you did,” he tells me, looking me right in my eyes, before glancing back at the street. He’s holding his hands casually on the steering wheel. “It was very brave and selfless for you to come to the defense of that poor, hapless wolf.”
Here, his eyes shine. They shimmer with something, and again I’m overcome by their similarity in eye color and expressiveness to those of the harassed wolf.
I shake away the chill I feel building on my spine and focus on answering him. I must keep my head on my shoulders, not come up with crazy fantasies like this man is the wolf, and vice versa. I remind myself firmly that we’re not in a world of werewolves and magic.
“It’s nothing,” I say, shaking despite myself. “Anyone with a heart, a shred of decency would have done the same.”
Cole looks at me sadly. He purses his lips, and I watch as they frown, but beautifully so, which is something not very many people can pull off.
“It appears that very few have a heart, let alone a shred of decency,” he says, and I find myself agreeing with the shred of anger and disgust I can hear in his deep voice.
Again, his accented tone fills me. It blocks out everything else and fills me with an acute sense of that same suffocating, all-encompassing lustful energy. The yearning and thirsting I felt for Mr. Grayson, even just through his voicemail, now returns.
I look down at his hands a moment as they clutch the steering wheel, marveling at their size and smoothness, at least on the top. On the bottoms, they’re rough, but not uncomfortably so. Just like he spends a lot of time doing hard, physical labor. The kind of labor he’s skilled at and loves. I can tell this by the deep cracks and lines in his flesh.
Briefly, I find myself wondering what it would feel like to truly be underneath those hands. I would like to be the object of his skilled labor. The mysterious man smiles, almost like he can sense my wandering thoughts. I flush, berating myself for being so lascivious.
“Thank you,” I stutter, blushing again. “Thank you for saving me, for coming to my rescue, with those guys.”
Cole laughs, and as he does so he brushes my knee with his hand. That’s enough to get me to bring my eyes back to his, where I feel happily helpless. It’s something I’ve never felt before, since I usually crave control: of myself, and of others. But not here, not in this moment. Now I feel weak-kneed and as if I could become putty in his big hands.
Oddly, I’m just content to surrender myself to him. So much so, that I’m not even bothered by the cold, or him driving me home, or by the encroaching late hour, nor by how much work I have left for me at the theater. All I have are eyes and ears for my mysterious savior.
The rest of me feels engulfed by him as well: possessed and shadowed, like we are the last and only people on earth. Like I’m the last and only person worthy of the kind of care and attention he’s showing me.
And after the day I’ve had, I realize I’m not about to refuse his companionship. Not really. Not when everyone else gets to have love and someone to rely on.
Even if he is a complete stranger, even if I don’t know him from Adam, I’d rather ride in my car with him, than be alone anymore. As this thought crests over my soul, and I feel the consuming aura pouring off my companion, I’m not afraid. If anything, I feel like I’m in the right place – right where I should be, right where I was always meant to be.
I hazard a glance at him, seeing joy and mirth in his face as he drives following my directions perfectly. He looks like someone who has ju
st been reunited with someone important to him, although that makes no sense, since we’ve never met each other before.
I wonder… are you feeling what I’m feeling?
This thought hangs in the air, as we reach my apartment and climb out of the car. He proceeds to walk me to the front door, like the gentleman he is. I have no idea where this guy came from, and yet I feel inexplicitly safe with him, as if I’ve known him all my life.
I fumble with my keys and drop them. My glasses are so cracked I can barely see my keys at the end of my hand. Cole takes them from me and holds them out till I can pick out the right key.
I hate being this vulnerable. Never, ever have I asked anyone to help me to this degree, and I certainly wouldn’t even dream of doing this to some handsome man on vacation. He is no doubt from Louisiana or Mississippi and I’m not sure what he’s doing here.
Once the door is open, he follows me inside. Despite my insistence that I have everything under control now that I’m back home and can get a backup pair of glasses, he insists on staying close to me. He wants to keep track of me, apparently even as I go into my bedroom.
As I don my backup pair of glasses and get a clearer view on everything, worrying about the fate of my play and the rest of my life are the least of my concerns. Such anxiety is a small speck of sand compared to the ocean of beauty standing in front of me. He’s there smiling brilliantly as everything comes into focus, as if he can tell I’m seeing him in high definition now.
I am, and I start blushing in high definition too. I turn zillions of shades of red in seconds flat, remembering that he’s been with me the whole way, guiding and protecting me from the end of my altercation with the assholes in the parking lot up until now.
“Thank you,” I say again, though I’m sure there will never be enough thank you’s to cover everything he’s done for me in one night. “Really. Thank you for everything. For making sure I got home okay, especially when I’m sure you’re here on vacation or something. Definitely not looking for any reason to help someone in distress.”
