“Elsie, you look beautiful.”
She finally met his eyes, but there was no smile on her lips.
“I wanted to help out when they needed me for the dance, but I feel silly. Not fun silly.”
The way she pursed her lips made Zackary laugh.
“You don’t have to fit in with all of the hollow’s customs,” he said, daring to place a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Dance duty is definitely not my thing. Welcome home, by the way.” Her smile was like moonlight through the dense canopy overhead. “I was just headed to the communal cabin to change back into my dress.”
“I’ll come with you . . . and wait outside,” Zackary quickly added.
Elsie giggled. Usually he found that kind of noise grating, but when Elsie did it, she sounded cute. She grasped the mask in one hand and wrapped her fingers around his with her other. Jolts of pleasure shot up Zackary’s arm at the contact. All he could do was revel in her touch as he escorted Elsie to the cabin.
As they neared, they picked up on the sound of two shifters going at it within the log walls. Curtains shrouded the windows, but there was no glass to block the noise inside.
“You like that?” a male grunted.
“Oh, yeah. Take me harder. Make Mama Wolf happy.”
Zackary and Elsie came to a halt. The witch shifter’s eyes expanded as she turned to look at Zackary, her mouth gaping open in surprise. An instant later, Zackary saw her expression change and lips twitch. Laughter rose up his throat. He squeezed Elsie’s hand and pulled her into the woods, running with her until they couldn’t hold it in any longer. They doubled over, laughter bursting from their lips.
“Oh my gosh,” Elsie gasped. “Who was that?”
“I think it was Ford and Polly,” Zackary said, glancing in the direction of the communal cabin.
Damn den mates. They had their own enclosures to return home to. Why did they have to go hijacking the one communal structure for the single shifters?
“Uh, maybe wait a little longer to retrieve your dress,” Zackary suggested.
Elsie laughed again, the mask dangling from her fingers. “Guess I’ll have to keep the cavewoman look going a little longer.”
“Want to go back to the party?” Zackary kept his tone light. After being away, he wanted to spend whatever time he could with Elsie. If they went back to the glade, that wouldn’t be possible—not with Tabor around.
“The quiet is nice,” Elsie said. “Maybe we could wait at Jager’s hut. He has stools and a fire pit. Maybe there’s even a fire already going. He’ll still be at the party a while, won’t he?”
Zackary scratched his jaw, recalling the eagerness with which Jager served moonshine to the pureblooded brothers—yet another reason he’d rather Elsie not return to the glade.
Grinning, he took Elsie’s hand once more.
“Great idea,” he said.
They cut through the woods, crossing the path that led to the den then stepped back into the underbrush. Zackary angled his body ahead of Elsie’s, holding up errant branches before she could run into them.
The sound of muffled voices made Zackary’s heart rate spike. He pulled Elsie down behind the base of an overturned tree. Roots shot out at the ends and the trunk was as wide as a giant boulder—enough circumference to hide them both when they crouched.
Packmates might get the wrong idea if they saw Zackary with Elsie alone in the woods. They hadn’t even kissed . . . well, not tonight, anyway. Zackary frowned and glanced over at the pretty witch shifter pressed against his shoulder. Her head and eyes lifted like she was concentrating on the approaching footsteps. They kept hunched and quiet. The voices remained muffled even as they approached. One was deep, low, and male; the other soft and female. The couple stopped talking, but there had been no sound of them walking out of range. No footsteps or even the patter of paws if they’d shifted. No more conversation or . . .
The female’s loud gasp carried all the way to where Zackary and Elsie huddled behind the fallen tree.
Oh, for the love of Moon. Not again.
Pleasured moans gusted out of the female.
Elsie’s eyes expanded. She looked at Zackary, lips parting in surprise. He grimaced.
A devious grin elevated Elsie’s lips right before she turned and lifted her body inch by inch from where they hid. After looking over the uprooted tree, she dropped back down. She didn’t even have to do it quietly, the female did nothing to muffle her eager pants.
Crouched beside him, Elsie mouthed two names, but Zackary couldn’t decipher either. He shook his head. She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned close until her lips were touching his ear. Zackary’s dick jumped in his pants.
“Jordan and Raider.” The names whispered down his neck.
The mating sounds faded the more Zackary thought of Elsie pressed against him in her furry bikini and scrap of deer hide plastered to her hips.
He turned his head, lips finding Elsie’s. When she swiped her tongue over his mouth, he crushed his lips against hers, cupping the back of her neck to hold her against him. Elsie’s fingers dug into his shoulder blades as though she meant to claw him with her nails. She didn’t have to worry about roughing him up, but he needed to be mindful of the petite female in his arms.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!” Jordan bellowed.
It was as though she was encouraging them, along with her mate. A growl arose—one Zackary wasn’t sure was his or Raider’s. The sound of it seemed to vibrate in his throat.
He unfastened his pants and tore them off his legs then climbed over Elsie. A fierce glow entered her eyes when she stared up at him. Hesitating, Zackary pressed his lips together tight.
“Don’t. Stop.” Her words were a soft command. The playfulness had vanished from her expression, replaced by a silent demand. Her gaze flicked brazenly between his legs.
Heat flooded to Zackary’s cheeks and sent blood rushing to his groin. He lifted the flap of deer skin above her thighs and found her wet and ready for him. He sank into her with an ecstatic sigh.
Zackary froze, listening for yelling or Tabor screaming a spell, but he could only hear Jordan’s moaning.
When he rocked, the pleasure in his groin shot throughout his entire body. Zackary closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by how good he felt inside her. He thrust, overcome with desire. Then did it again and again, moving to a rhythm that tugged at all the pleasure points inside his body. The ecstasy astounded him.
Elsie lifted her hips, and her eyes seemed to glow brighter. She made no sound, holding back to keep from being discovered by the passionate packmates. Jordan panted loud enough for all of them. Zackary wanted to pleasure Elsie the way Raider pleasured Jordan. He needed to make sure she felt satisfied. He couldn’t let Raider outlast him. Zackary’s dick had other ideas. This was his first time mating. Aroused beyond reasoning, he got the sense that things would soon be out of his control.
Rocking faster increased the pleasure. He pitched forward, nearly emptying inside her. Gritting his teeth, he groaned beside her ear.
“Protection spell? I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Nolosha para bos, nolosha para mangina.”
Elsie whispered the spell. Once spoken, Zackary nearly lost it without resuming their mating. He rocked once and had to grind his teeth harder.
Elsie took up the rhythm. Her motion broke the dam inside him. When he tried to pull out, she wrapped her legs around his hips, squeezing him to her. That was it. No force on Earth could stop the flood of his release. His hips jerked forward, cock tunneling deeper into her blissful heat.
Jordan shrieked and Raider roared, as though they’d been in synch with Zackary and Elsie all along. Then the forest went silent.
Zackary and Elsie froze. Their eyes found one another’s, locking on while they held their breath and listened.
“Was it good?” Raider asked.
“Like you have to ask,” Jordan teased.
“I sup
pose we should return to the party and make sure our guests of honor are enjoying themselves,” Raider said.
Jordan snorted. “Camilla and Rosalie are seeing to that. At least my sister’s moving on.”
“Maybe Hudson and Chase as well,” Raider said.
Their conversation drifted away. Once no sound of the mated pair remained, Zackary eased out of Elsie. He hovered above her, searching her face for hints as to how she felt about their coupling.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Elsie’s lips spread into a grin. “I can’t wait to do that again.”
Chuckling happily, Zackary bent down and touched the side of Elsie’s face. She was so sweet and lovely and beautiful. This must be a dream. He felt as though he’d claimed her, that she belonged to him. After this, there would be no staying away.
Mine, he thought.
This female is mine.
Elsie fell asleep in Zackary’s arms behind the fallen tree. Sometime later, she stirred and flipped around. Zackary immediately pulled her against his chest, spooning her body and wrapping his arms around her protectively. With a contented sigh, Elsie fell back asleep.
Dawn had not yet arrived when the soft crunch of leaves pulled Elsie awake. She grabbed her discarded mask and just managed to hold it in front of her face as Wolfrik rounded on them.
Zackary leapt to his feet, two large fists clenched at his sides.
There wasn’t a stitch of clothing on either of the males.
Wolfrik wasn’t looking at Zackary, his eyes were on Elsie—a smirk on his lips.
“I can still recognize you, Little Witch.”
Zackary snarled.
Elsie lowered the mask and set it beside her with a shrug.
“You caught us,” she said with nonchalance.
“He treating you good?” He nodded his head to the side in Zackary’s direction without actually looking at him.
“Of course I am,” Zackary snapped.
“Elsie?” Wolfrik raised his brows.
Zackary glowered at the pureblood. “What’s it to you? You’re not her brother.”
Wolfrik turned slowly to face Zackary. “Be glad that I’m not.” Ruthless eyes ran up and down the shifter’s front. Wolfrik’s teeth looked sharp when he grinned. “Then again, you have as much to fear from me as from the wizard wolf if you hurt Elsie—more actually.” He took a large step toward Zackary.
“I’d never hurt Elsie,” Zackary growled. His eyes squeezed together as though the mere thought brought him pain.
“Oh yeah? What about her brother? You beat him up for being part wizard.”
“That wasn’t me; that was Garrick.” Zackary gritted his teeth.
Wolfrik lifted his nose. “I see. Just an innocent bystander.”
“No,” Zackary grit out.
“Wolfrik, stop,” Elsie said. “Thanks for checking on me. I’m fine. You can go now.”
Wolfrik gave a snort of amusement and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s how it is then? Going to dismiss me the way you dismissed the boy?”
Zackary’s forehead wrinkled when he looked at Elsie. “What boy?”
Elsie scowled at Wolfrik, who smirked before sauntering off.
“What boy?” Zackary asked again.
chapter thirteen
Meat, moonshine, and erotic dancing . . . Wolf Hollow certainly knew how to show migrant shifters a good time.
Diego always found it fascinating to visit with other wolf packs and observe their customs. Some were wary of outsiders, while others jumped at the opportunity to play host. Last night’s entertainment had been a surprise, and the moonshine was the best he’d tasted in a long while.
Would Glenn Meadows be as welcoming? Would Hailey?
After a night of feasting, drinking, and dancing, he’d nearly been too tired to shift. The hours before morning were few, and soon enough the faint smell of smoke tickled Diego’s nostrils. He lifted his wolf head and scented the air before shifting and rising on two legs. Grabbing the borrowed jeans, he’d placed on the ground beside him, Diego pulled the stiff material over his legs and hips, leaving the top button unfastened. He stretched his arms wide, bare chest lifting to greet the dawn.
Fully awake, Diego crept past sleeping shifters sprawled over the ground still snoozing, some snoring, after the long night of partying.
He scratched his balls. Diego wasn’t accustomed to wearing clothing, but their hosts were into the practice, so he’d go along with it until he and Raphael continued on their way.
Raphy was nowhere to be seen, not that Diego felt remotely worried. He knew exactly what his brother was up to when he’d taken off into the surrounding woods with one of the female performers. Good. Raphael needed to get laid. He’d been yapping Diego’s ear off about his dry spell all up the coast of what had once been known as Oregon. They’d pissed on every city sign post they’d passed. Based on all the crumbling structures left behind, it was easy to deduce that humans had loved their coastal towns. That wasn’t the case for wolf packs.
They’d come across a few stray shifters as they made their way up to the area of Washington, but those stragglers had taken off running before they could engage them in conversation. They hadn’t had so much as a whiff of a female in many moons.
Diego didn’t care about a romp in the woods. The moment he’d decided he was ready for a mate, he’d become committed to his female—even though he hadn’t met her yet. He hoped it would be very soon.
Eager anticipation buzzed through him like bees over crocuses.
Several months ago, he’d decided he was ready to claim a female. Ready to spend the remainder of his days waking up beside his lovely mate. Ready to become a doting mate and father.
His brother was the best company. As soon as Diego shared his intentions with him, they’d agreed they must stick together and form their own little pack. Ideally, the female would be a pureblood who could keep up with their wanderings and birth pups who could do the same. Only the offspring of pureblooded mates came into the world in their animal form. They were unable to shift to humans until their twelfth year.
Once Raphael had gotten the teasing out of the way, he’d perked up at the idea of being Uncle Raphy—helping teach the pups to hunt and kill.
Maybe the search would end in Glenn Meadows . . . if Hailey was even single. Wolf Hollow’s elder had insisted again and again that he would find out for them. He’d sent the pack’s werewolf to make the trip over, while being elusive on the number of days it would take for him to travel round trip.
If Diego was in a rush, he would have gone himself, but such gracious hosts were rare in this world, and Raphael was getting what he needed.
Diego followed the scent of the smoke to the glade. Where it had been brimming with shifters hours before, it was now clear with the exception of the blonde female in a short floral sundress crouched beside a small fire above a cauldron.
The next beat of Diego’s heart skidded against his chest.
Her name was Lacy. He knew because he’d asked another shifter that night. She wasn’t a pureblood, but she’d looked so beautiful with her hair lifted into a ponytail, the same way it was now. There was a soft sweetness about her that immediately caught Diego’s attention. While her packmates danced and drank, she had remained attentive, helping clear cups and offering warm smiles to any packmate she approached. No males had lingered around her, signaling to Diego that she was unattached. But the male who had told him her name also shared that she was grieving the loss of a friend.
Diego moved closer, sure Lacy would hear him, but she was on her knees in front of the fire feeding twigs in, looking fully focused on her task. Another look around confirmed that they were alone. Diego’s heart sped up as he approached.
“Buenos dias, mi querido amigo.”
Lacy blushed when she looked up. Getting up, she said a soft “hi,” meeting his eyes dead on before looking quickly away. “Breakfast will be ready in a bit. I’m just getting it warme
d up.” She reached behind her head and tightened her ponytail.
“You are responsible for feeding your pack?” Diego stepped closer.
Lacy hurried around the cauldron, putting it between them. She grasped a long wooden spoon and began stirring. When she shook her head, her blonde hair swung from side to side.
“Just for this month. We change duties every new moon cycle. The single shifters, that is. The mated shifters take care of feeding their own families in the den, east of here.”
Diego fixated on her lips as she spoke, keeping his gaze on them after she finished. More color crept into Lacy’s cheeks. It was probably a good thing he had on pants, otherwise he might scare her off with the boner he’d gotten while watching her face flush.
Dios mio, she was bashful. If a flirty morning greeting got her this worked up, what would she look like beneath him as he took his time bringing pleasure to every inch of her body?
It was Diego’s turn to feel overheated. His skin burned with desire to brand this female as his. What kind of sounds would she make once he was inside her? Would her entire body flush or only her face? What did she look like beneath her dress?
Futile thoughts, he admonished himself. She was not a pureblood. Not the type of female to run off with a couple of nomads. Her actions and words spoke of a dutiful and loyal packmate.
A dutiful and loyal mate for Diego, another voice taunted back at him.
Lacy’s grip on the spoon tightened as he stared at her.
Diego tucked his silky shoulder-length hair behind his ears and flashed her a friendly smile.
“Can I help you, mi amor?”
“It just needs to warm up. Thanks. The Sakhir River is close. Just behind me,” Lacy tilted her head back, “if you’re thirsty.”
Diego’s eyes locked on her exposed neck. Oh, he was parched all right. He ran the tip of his tongue along the backs of his teeth, suddenly hungry for a taste of her cunt.
Diego didn’t know what had come over him. She wasn’t what he was looking for at all. He’d told Raphael he wanted a bold, feisty pureblooded female who could take down an elk with speed and skill.
Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters Book 4) Page 14
