Real Men Hunt: Real Men Shift

by Kyle, Celia

  “Calm the fuck down,” Val growled as she struggled to restrain her without hurting her.

  “You’re safe, Persia,” Warren tried on a smile, but she only cringed away from him.

  “Take some deep breaths,” Zeke added with an authoritative tone that certainly didn’t soothe Warren’s nerves, and he doubted it would help Persia.

  “You guys, maybe you should—” Max started, but Trina cut him off with a look.

  Warren was desperate to help her, to calm her down, to show her they meant no harm, but she couldn’t hear them over her own screams. “I said you’re safe,” he raised his voice. “Everything’s okay!”

  “Warren, you’re not helping,” Val barked.

  “Neither are you. Let her go!”

  Trina scowled at them all. “Everyone needs to shut—”

  A cool blast of early morning air hit them all, carrying with it the scent of the pack omega, Cassandra. She drifted in like a leaf on the wind, her power radiating out from her and soothing all but Persia’s jangled nerves. She didn’t even need to utter a single word to get everyone to take a couple of steps away from the patient. She simply glided over to them, her snow-white hair billowing down the length of her back and blending perfectly with her equally white silk gown. Leaning over a still-babbling Persia, she smiled, and the room filled with a peaceful warmth.

  “Good morning, Persia,” Cassandra reached out and laid her hand on Persia’s cheek.

  Persia froze and then sighed and relaxed a little. Her eyes still bugged out and her chest pumped with her panicked breathing, but at least her screams had faded into faint whimpers.

  Cassandra’s smile grew wider. “You’re among friends here, Persia. Deep down you know that. Right?”

  Persia’s gaze flicked toward Warren and then back to Cassandra, and she gave a tiny nod that blasted him with hope.

  “Good,” Cassandra continued. “Your friends are going to tell you everything you want to know about them. All you need to do is take a deep breath and keep an open mind. I promise, no one will hurt you. Do you believe me?”

  Her nod was more emphatic that time. Then her disarming blue-brown gaze landed him again, and Cassandra took a step back to allow him to approach. Persia looked as confused as ever. He just hoped he could explain everything without scaring her again. Scratching at the back of his neck, he took a deep breath and dove right in.

  “I’m so sorry for frightening you like that, Persia, but I only did it to protect you. Before you ask, yes, what you saw really happened. I can transform from a human to a wolf. The same wolf you’ve been visiting in the meadow. I know that must sound crazy to you, but it’s true. I can show you again, if you need—”

  Persia’s eyes grew wide again and Cassandra softly spoke, “I don’t think that will be necessary at the moment.”

  Val moved into Persia’s sightline and smiled. “I know exactly how you’re feeling, hon. I found out about werewolves the same way you did, totally by accident. Trust me. What you’re feeling right now is completely normal. Just give it a minute.”

  Persia blinked. “W-werewolves?”

  Val exchanged a look with Zeke, who joined her next to the gurney. “All of us ‘homesteaders’ who live on the mountain? Yeah, we’re not actually a village. We’re a pack of werewolves. I’m the pack alpha, not the mayor.”

  Warren perched on the edge of the gurney and clasped her hand again. He was surprised and pleased she didn’t pull away. The simple act of touching her helped ease his anxiety, and he hoped somehow their connection helped her too.

  “We live among humans, but we keep our true nature a secret. Otherwise they’d all freak out like you did.” His lips curled into a gentle smile. “To prevent accidental exposure, we generally live on the outskirts of towns and keep our distance.”

  “Not always, though,” Val interjected. “Zeke’s sister was my college roommate in Atlanta. I caught her shifting one day and I’m pretty sure my reaction was similar to yours. We had to have this same chat. By the time I met Zeke, I’d known about wolves for a good decade.”

  Persia’s gaze darted between Val and Zeke. She knew they were a couple, and slowly the dots connected in her brain.

  “Does that mean you’re…”

  Val nodded. “We all are. I’m still kind of a newbie at this whole wolf thing, but I’m getting the hang of it.”

  Zeke beamed at his mate with pride. “Better than that. You were born to become a wolf, my love.”

  Val laid a protective hand on her slightly protruding stomach and returned his look of love. “This one too.”

  Persia focused on Val. “How did you… How did it… How?”

  She didn’t need to finish her questions for everyone in the room to understand what she wanted to know. They were the obvious questions, the ones anyone in her position would ask. Tougher questions would come later, and Warren was prepared to answer them, but at that moment, the existence of werewolves needed to sink in first.

  “Most of us are born as wolves,” Warren answered, “though some wolves are made. But don’t worry. In our society, it’s a death penalty offense for a wolf to turn a human who isn’t their fated mate.”

  Persia’s brow crinkled. “Fated what?”

  Warren’s heart thundered. How would she react to what he had to tell her? The idea of losing her was almost too much to bear, but he had no other choice. She needed to know everything.

  “Fated mates. Love works a little differently for us, Persia. Wolves mate for life, and we find each other by smell. The moment a wolf catches the scent of his fated mate, something changes inside him. Only his mate matters, above everything else except for the pack, for the rest of his life.”

  Persia stared at him intently, a question bouncing around in her eyes. Then she swallowed hard and gave it voice. “Do you have a mate?”

  Emotion roiled around inside him—how could it not? But instead of trying to hide it, he let it all out for her to see before answering her.

  “Sure do, Red. You.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Persia’s mind buzzed so loudly she couldn’t focus on any one thing for longer than a half-second. It was like when you click the wrong link on your computer and your screen fills with dozens upon dozens of annoying pop-ups. Only her brain was the screen and the crazy tale these seemingly sane people were telling her were the pop-ups. If only one tiny aspect made sense, maybe the pain behind her eyes would stop.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a little trouble keeping up.”

  “That’s perfectly understandable,” Trina laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  She probably should have flinched at the touch of a lunatic, but it somehow grounded her.

  “What don’t you understand?” Warren asked in a perfectly courteous tone that somehow irritated her.

  “Oh, I dunno, let’s see… I don’t understand anything at all about magical creatures who can turn themselves from humans to wolves. Not even a little bit, outside the context of a bad horror flick. Another thing I don’t understand is this fated whatever concept. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s every girl’s fantasy to have a man fall for her so hard he’d become her lover and protector for the rest of their lives, but…gimme a break. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  It all had to be some kind of epic gag, maybe some new reality show pranking unsuspecting women with promises of eternal love. Cruel, but the world had become a truly cruel place.

  “It does,” Warren insisted, a strange desperation flickering across his face. “I swear—”

  “Okay, assuming werewolves are real, which I don’t believe for a second, I’m not one. How could I possibly be your mate?” She used air quotes around “mate.”

  “Don’t forget, I was human too,” Val chimed in. “I thought all this fated mate stuff was just a bunch of hooey at first. But I can tell you, Persia, I wouldn’t have it any other way. The truth of the matter is that I
never felt like I fit in anywhere until I landed here. Not when I was on the Dean’s List in college, not when I was making a name for myself in the Army, not even in combat, which I’d always thought was my true calling.”

  Persia wanted to pepper her with questions, but giving voice to those thoughts might suggest she believed one tiny iota of what they were saying.

  Which she didn’t.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  “I will admit that when I first met Zeke, I felt nothing but a strong attraction.” Zeke scowled at this and glanced around the room, silently telling everyone to keep that bit of information to themselves. “True, it was stronger than anything I’d ever felt, but I wouldn’t call it life-changing. It felt a bit like if you were to stick a fork in an electrical outlet. You’d get a little singed, maybe fall on your ass, and you’d definitely think, ‘What the fuck just happened?’ But now that I’m a shifter, I can tell you that feeling is intensified, more like grabbing a downed power line with your bare hand. It’s soul-shaking.”

  That seemed to mollify Zeke because he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a sweet kiss to her temple.

  “Now I do belong,” Val continued. “I don’t just feel it. I know it. I have my mate, my friends, the entire pack, who’ve become my family. My pack mates accept and love me for who I am, potty mouth and all. I’m not going to lie. It’s hard to wrap your mind around, but all I can tell you is that I feel complete now. Like I’ve found my place in the universe. And since I no longer have to search for it, I can relax and enjoy every second of it.”

  Val’s speech really hit home with Persia. She’d always felt out of place. Growing up, she’d been a tomboy when her mother had wanted her to be a girly girl. Her father had hoped she’d follow in his footsteps, which she clearly hadn’t. Even the only people she could come close to calling friends were transitory—and most of them were sitting in jail cells at that moment, no doubt hating her guts. The thought of finally belonging somewhere appealed to Persia more than she ever would have imagined. Maybe…

  “No, no, no.” She shook her red curls hard enough they bounced against her face. “Stop messing with me, you guys.”

  “Do you need proof?” Max stepped close enough for her to see him. “I’d be happy to show you how it’s done.”

  Trina’s husband—or mate or whatever he was called—started unbuttoning his shirt, which drew a growl from Warren. Dragging Max out of Persia’s field of vision, he stepped in to take his place.

  “If anyone’s going to shift in front of my mate, it’s going to be me!”

  Spotty memories of Warren’s body transforming into some kind of mutant creature shot adrenaline through her veins, ratcheting up her heart rate. The terror she’d felt staring into his wild, glowing eyes thirty feet up a tree…which wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. Yet no matter how hard she tried to believe it had all been a dream, she couldn’t erase the images of Warren’s transformation from her mind. She’d been there. She’d seen it. Proof of what they all claimed.

  “No, don’t do that shifty thing.” She covered her eyes as if he might do it anyway. “I’ve already seen that show. Twice. I think I’ve met my quota a for a lifetime.”

  Trina squeezed her shoulder. “Trust your instincts, Persia. Listen to them, even if your rational brain tries to convince you otherwise.”

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she tried to make sense of it all. She couldn’t deny what she saw on that platform, and all of her instincts screamed that her new friends were telling the truth. But still…

  “Hey, I have a thought.” Warren pulled her hand to help her sit up. “Why don’t I show you around, give you a little tour of the pack house? You could get a sense of who we are as a community. No pressure, nothing scary, I promise.”

  “Is she okay to walk around?” Val murmured to Trina.

  “Sure, just take it easy. No long hikes in the woods, and definitely no more falling down again, okay?”

  Persia thought for a moment. Everyone in the room exuded thoughtfulness and caring, so she had no reason to think they were setting her up. Besides, a walk sounded nice after the night she’d had. She nodded her agreement, and then Trina turned to Warren.

  “I’m serious, Warren. You need to keep a close eye on her. Agreed?”

  Warren’s expression grew steely, and then he uttered a single word that caused the breath in her throat to catch. “Always.”

  The double meaning of that word wasn’t lost on her, but she couldn’t unpack what it all meant just then. Slipping to the ground, she reached for Warren’s proffered arm. The moment her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, a current of what felt like electricity pulsed through her body. Like, real, knock-you-out-of-your-shoes electricity. Exactly as Val had described it. Pushing the thought from her mind, she focused on putting each foot in front of the other until they closed in on a large log cabin structure.

  “This is the pack house,” Warren explained, as a few people—no wolves—stood on the big wrap-around porch drinking steaming cups of coffee. “Zeke and Val live there full-time, as well as a handful of other pack members. The rest of us have small homes on pack lands, and a few even live in Tremble. In general, we prefer everyone to live on pack lands because it’s safer, but it’s not required.”

  “Why is it safer?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Tremble is a nice town, and most of the locals are good people. But out here, we’re hidden from prying eyes and the dangers inherent with humans discovering our existence.”

  “Like my dad.”

  It wasn’t a question because it made sense. Assuming all of it was true. Which it wasn’t. Couldn’t be.

  “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” Warren stammered, clearly worried he’d offended her.

  She gave him a glum smirk. “I know you didn’t. But it’s the truth. Men like my dad are why you feel the need to hide.” She left out the part about his community’s shared delusions.

  “Packs are structured much like the military, with a specific hierarchy and strong leadership. We’re all wolves, but we’re not all equal. The Ruling Circle consists of the alpha as the leader, his beta as a sort of right-hand man, and an enforcer who commands the security force, who are called sentries. Is that too much detail?”

  “No, I’m picking up what you’re laying down,” she responded as she caught sight of a small van waiting a short distance from the pack house. “Do you have a position in the… pack?”

  A proud smile touched his lips. “I’m Zeke’s beta, second in command.”

  “Do you ever wish you were the leader?” Most guys saw themselves as alphas, even though most guys weren’t.

  “Good lord, no.” He chuckled. “That’s an immense amount of pressure, and despite being new to the job, Zeke’s handling it all really well. We each have our own calling. Val is unique—well, in a lot of ways, but especially because she’s not only the alpha mate, a position that offers a lot of power in itself, but she’s also the pack’s enforcer. Trina’s innate healing abilities make her the perfect healer, and Cassandra…well, Cassandra is a natural born omega.”

  “You mean the beautiful, white-haired woman who came in? What’s an omega?”

  Warren nodded as they rounded the front porch on their lazy stroll. “It’s hard to explain, but the best I can tell you is that she’s a sort of mystic, or psychic healer, if that sounds better.”

  None of it sounded better. In fact, the whole thing was getting weirder and weirder.

  “Yeah, that doesn’t sound fake at all. Although, I have to admit, I calmed down pretty fast once she walked in.”

  “That’s part of her role as omega.”

  “What about you, Warren? Becoming a beta is your raison d’être?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks, and she stumbled a few extra steps before turning to face him. What she saw in his eyes scared her. Not in a “I’m about to gobble you up, Little Red Riding Hood” way, but in a “Oh shit, he ain’t play
ing” kind of way. The way he looked at her flooded her body with heat and need. She almost wished they were back in the treehouse, making out like teenagers.

  “No, Persia, it’s not my reason for being. I thought it was, for a long time, but then I caught your scent in Wolf Woods. I waited for you, you know. I smelled you long before I saw you, or even heard your progress. When you stepped out into the clearing, the sun glinted off your hair like it was on fire. My wolf wanted to run to you, but I told him that would scare you. So, we waited. And you came to us. You laid down with us, bared your soul to us. That was when I learned my purpose in life. To be the best damn mate possible.”

  The morning bustle going on around them vanished as Persia stared up at him, blinking rapidly as she tried to process his words into something that made sense. It didn’t work. The only explanation for him knowing all of that was that…

  “It was you! You really are my woodland friend!”

  Part of her felt faint, but another part of her felt excited and joyful and happier than she ever thought possible. Then the reality of it all erased her fledgling smile and replaced it with a frown.

  “What?” he asked, peering at her with an intensity that felt almost invasive.

  “I dunno, Warren. That seems so… tricky. How can I trust you? You should have told me who—or rather what—you are.”

  The intensity softened and he quirked an eyebrow at her. “You mean like how you should have told me you were Dick McNish’s daughter?”

  Persia winced and gave him a sheepish grimace. “Touché.”

  He tucked her hand back into the crook of his arm and continued their walk, his warm fingers cover her trembling ones. “Besides, considering your reaction to what I am, I’m sure you can understand why I didn’t mention it sooner.”

  Vaguely recalling the sheer panic she’d felt the night before and the ear-splitting screams she’d belted out a short time earlier, she had to give him that. “Fair enough.”

  A tiny blur of tan and orange tore across the lawn toward them, and Persia wondered what fresh hell was coming at her now. As the creature slowed to run circles around them, she realized it was just a dog. A very small Pomeranian, if she wasn’t mistaken.