Shifters in the Snow

by Jacqueline Sweet

  Slowly forcing my heavy lids open, I struggled, fighting back the sleep that still beckoned and cajoled, and blinking furiously, my vision swam into focus.

  Two strange eyes, hazel like the changing color of autumn leaves, stared back at me—so close that I could count the individual gold tipped lashes that framed them.

  I gasped in confusion and flinched away, burrowing deeper into the scratchy rug that was hugging my skin. All of my skin. Shit. I was naked. Why was I naked? And who was this person? A flood of adrenaline thundered through my veins, the fight or flight response screaming in my head, my limbs quivering with the need to respond. I had been running…so fast, and for so long, then…nothing? Who had I been running from? Why couldn’t I remember?

  A low moan broke the silence. Mine? I wanted to run, but my arms, my legs—they felt like lead, quivering and shaking with weakness. Had I been drugged? I silently willed my legs to move. They twitched, but refused to comply.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. No need to be scared.” His voice rumbled, low and husky.

  I had heard that voice before. In my dreams? I tried to open my mouth, to speak, maybe to scream?

  “I’ll get you a drink. Don’t try to talk, just wait here.”

  Wait here? I couldn’t go anywhere, even if I wanted to! The man stood, towering over me, and the heat that had been burning into my skin was suddenly gone. Shivering, I stared up at him, watching as he hurried across the room.

  From my viewpoint on the ground I assessed my captor, or was he my savior? He was wearing a pair of battered denim jeans, the top buttons undone, the fabric hanging from his hips. The rest of him was bare, allowing an uninterrupted, and glorious, view of smooth golden skin. Not overly broad, he had the body of a fighter, all sinuous strength packaged in ripples of muscle. His face was not overly handsome, his jaw wide and lips generous. A craggy face—pleasing enough to look at. It was his eyes that held me, that gorgeous kaleidoscope of colors framed by thick lashes, made extra perfect by the laughter lines that marked their permanent place. I was a sucker for gorgeous eyes, and this was a face that had lived. Thick coal black eyebrows, the same color as his buzz-cut hair, quirked up at me, acknowledging my stare. Then, with challenge burning in his eyes, he lazily raked his eyes up and down my body.

  Flushing to my roots, I was unable to move as his gaze caressed me, slowly tracking over every naked inch, the heat in his gaze singeing in its intensity. My wolf strained inside me, pushing against my skin, wanting to reach out and rub herself against every available delectable inch. Why was she acting like this—like a bitch in heat? “Who are you? Why am I here?” I forced the words out, past the panic that was still bubbling inside me.

  His eyes flicked to my face, holding my gaze prisoner. “I’m Adam…and I don’t know why you’re here, just that I’m glad that you are…”

  His deep voice rolled over me, calming me—yet again. His voice was like a drug. “I…I don’t know…I don’t remember…it’s just…blank!”

  He crouched down next to me, gently cradling my head and propping it up with a cushion. “It’ll come back, don’t force it. Do you remember your name?” He smoothed the hair back off my face, his touch lingering.

  “Claire,” I said automatically. “It’s Claire Kendal!” A minor victory, but at least I had remembered that.

  “So, Claire Kendal,” he grinned, a wicked smile that made me reassess my earlier assessment. He might not be classically handsome—hell, no, he had that rough and sexy bad-boy thing going on. His smile—like, whoa! Little tremors started in my belly, working their way down, then down further, until I was clenching my thighs together desperately staving off the urge to spread them wide. What the hell?

  “Smell me, Claire,” he whispered, “your wolf recognizes me…”

  My eyes wide, I decided this must be some sort of dream. A great dream—nah, screw that—a fucking hot dream. I must be dying…

  “Am I dying?” I croaked out, wondering if I should pinch myself. But, then I might wake up. Best not, just in case.

  He laughed, his eyes creasing just like I had imagined. “Nope, ‘cause in my dream you wouldn’t be covered in blood, bruised and battered…”

  I was? That explained the weakness, then…not drugs, thank the Mother! Following his request, I sniffed the air tentatively. I could smell the rich scent of wood…the smokiness of the fire…the faint tang of the last meal…and him, all around me, mixing with the scents of the building. A rich and intoxicating scent of musk, infused with the tang of blackberries. A scent that drew me in, wrapping all around me, calling to me. My pulse raced as my heart thumped hard in my chest. “Who are you?” I whispered, fighting the urge to drag myself up somehow, and wrap myself around him. Now I wanted to rub against every inch of him…and I meant every inch. A growl welled in my throat at the thought…

  “I’m your true mate, and you’re mine…” he said. Coming to his knees, he leaned over me, his breath caressing my lips. “I can’t believe I’ve finally found you, after all this time…”

  Then his lips touched mine, only a gentle brush, but my body reacted immediately, my nipples stiffening into peaks, my spine arching toward him, my arms finally responding, wrapping around him and pulling him closer.

  He broke away, his expression one of searching. “Do you feel it? The bond?”

  The bond? Ah, the mating bond, everything finally clicked into place. That would explain some of this…the sensations rolling through my body, how sensitive every little touch felt. My sudden and urgent need for him. I reached for my wolf, and together we searched, feeling for where the bond would be. It was there! A fragile line of energy reaching out from my soul, connecting to his—my mate. Who I knew nothing about.

  Then again, at the moment, he knew nothing about me, and I knew nothing about me. I nodded, not knowing what to say.

  “I know you’re hurt, that something has scared you, done something to you—and it kills me to see you like this. I just want to go and rip something, anything, apart for what has happened to you. But, you see, whatever happened, it brought you to me. Brought us together.” He frowned, earnest compassion on his face. “And we’ll fix this, whatever it is, together. You’ll see. The bond will help you get stronger, to heal. Shit. I can’t stand to feel you hurting, I just want to…”

  “It’s okay,” I murmured, cupping his cheek in my hand, his skin bristly under my touch. To see this big, brute of a man reduced to hurting, because of me. Feeling my pain, worrying about me—my heart split wide open, his concern and tenderness pouring in. Healing me, I realized with a gasp, as the memories started to filter back, fighting their way through the darkness that clouded my mind.

  “I remember more! My parents. We’re a little pack on our own. Just Mom, Dad, and me.” I beamed at him in triumph. “We don’t come from around here, though. I’ve been traveling…just me. Why just me?” I furrowed my brow in concentration, the answers were here somewhere, I just had to dig a little harder, chip away at the wall…

  “Steady,” Adam warned, slouching next to me on the floor, head propped on his hand, “it’ll come, give it time…”

  I tugged on the bond a little harder, pulling on his strength, his essence. I now knew that he was a good man, an honorable one — it sang through the bond. One who gave so much of himself, and asked for little in return. He gave, and gave…and it was so lonely, his life. He was constantly surrounded by people, but always stood alone. I bit back a sob, as emotions, his and mine, threatened to overwhelm and drown me.

  And then the wall broke—and everything came flooding back.

  Chapter 3

  Adam

  Her eyes widened, the silvery-gray still as startling, and mesmerizing as when I had first seen them. I could read devastation in those eyes. Devastation and loss. My heart was running full throttle in my chest, her pain squeezing me tight. “What is it?” I urged, linking my fingers with hers, pulling her back to me.

  “They’re gone…” Her voice was small, l
ost.

  “Who?”

  “Mom. Dad. They’re gone. And, for a short time…I didn’t remember…and they were alive again…and, now—” Her face crumpled, grief pouring out of her. “It’s like they just died—again…” she sobbed, curling onto her side with tears tracking down her cheeks, smearing the blood and dirt that remained.

  I gathered her to me and pressed her damp face against my chest, rocking her and murmuring words of nonsense, while she shook uncontrollably with sobs.

  It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I held her, the woman that had suddenly become everything to me, and wished with every breath in my body that I could take the pain away. Shoulder it for her.

  My wolf sat silent, his head bowed, as he too mourned her loss. Her pack would have been a part of our pack. To have never known them—he howled his anguish through the bond.

  Her breath ragged, she tilted her head up at me. Through watery eyes she stared. If it was true, and our eyes really were the windows to our souls, then I swear she was looking right at mine, through to the very core of me. And, I could see hers. “I’m so, so sorry—”

  Snaking out a hand she grabbed my neck, tugging sharply, and sealed her lips to mine.

  I could taste the salt of her tears staining her mouth as she kissed me with desperate fury, licking and nibbling the lines of my mouth, her fingers digging into my neck, pulling me closer.

  With a growl I did press closer, our kiss a dance of lips and teeth. Pressing her back against the floor, I carefully balanced above her, cupping her face in my hands while I poured all my sorrow and lust into the kiss. Her mouth opened on a moan, to which I took full advantage of, spearing the moist cavern with my tongue, delving deep and finding hers. I had died and gone to the Mother of All! She tasted like sweet cinnamon cookies, and I wanted to lick all of the frosting…

  Her body shook beneath me, quaking with a desperation that matched my own. My cock strained in my jeans, hardened to the point of pain by the thick smell of her arousal that permeated the air, seeping into my pores.

  Take her…my wolf growled.

  No, I ground out. She’s still injured, I won’t—

  The air left my body in a whoosh as she kicked my legs out from under me, her lush body forming the perfect cushion for my landing. So soft, her frame cradled my harder one, molding itself to me in welcome. The plumpness of her breasts pressed against my chest, her nakedness a blessing I was going to forever be thankful for. I could feel her pussy, warm and inviting, through the denim enclosing my cock—the blasted denim that was preventing me from thrusting deep inside her, taking her, claiming her. I rocked forward, the friction driving me crazy.

  She groaned, a throaty sound, her body pressing up against mine, accepting and wanting. Then, she gasped—a sound of pain, not pleasure.

  Shit! I rolled off her quickly, kicking myself mentally. What the hell was I doing? She wasn’t healed yet…and I was grinding on her—

  “I’m fine, Adam. Stop beating yourself up. I just feel a little tender…” she said, blushing furiously.

  “Where? I didn’t get chance to, you know, finish cleaning you up.” My turn to burn with embarrassment, as I remembered ogling her nakedness.

  “It hurts just…here,” she murmured, rolling over onto her front, and revealing the most perfect heart shaped ass I had ever seen. Perfect, except for the ugly claw marks ravaging one plump cheek.

  “Fuck! What did this?” I asked, leaning closer to inspect the wounds. They were deep, though the skin was already starting to knit, trying to close. They seemed pretty clean, the snow outside burying any dirt and grit that might have delayed healing.

  “That tickles!” she squealed, trying to wriggle away from me.

  “What does?”

  “Your breath…on my skin—”

  My mouth was only inches away from her behind. And her pussy…I blew gently across her unharmed cheek, watching with fascination as lines of goose bumps erupted, her skin quivering and tensing.

  “You’re hurt,” I stated, my voice coming out all gruff and hoarse.

  “I am…”

  “We need to let you heal.”

  “We should…”

  I eyed her curvy body, sprawled out in front of me. It would be so easy to wrap my arm around her waist, lift her hips and thrust into her from behind, deep and hard. I could drive my cock into her warm, wet sheath, rubbing and sliding in and out—and she would let me—I knew she would. Every ounce of blood in my body rushed to my cock, the weight thick and heavy between my legs, my balls swelling with anticipation. I gripped myself through my jeans, moving to pop the remaining buttons. She was ready, I—

  Her body suddenly tensed, her heartbeat racing. “Adam, I’ve remembered who did this. Why I was running!” She rolled over, her eyes widening a fraction at the sight of me manhandling myself, her lips lifting in a smirk, even though it was clear she was terrified. “It was coyote shifters. And they’ll try and find me, even here. We’re not safe—you’re not safe! We have to run!”

  * * *

  Claire

  “Run? Sweetheart, we don’t need to run…”

  Memories crowded in, and I wrapped my fingers around his arm, clinging on for dear life. The terror of the chase filled me—the snarling and taunting, the promises of what was to come. Adam covered my trembling hand with his own, his eyes flashing with restrained rage as he felt me flinch.

  “Coyote shifters? Here, in my forest?” he growled, eyes flashing with a steeliness I had not seen before. With a grim look on his face he continued, “You don’t need to worry about them, they’ll be dealt with. Do you remember why they were chasing you?”

  Tears leaked from the edges of my eyes, despite trying to hold them back. I wanted to be strong, but since I’d met Adam I’d either been crying or horny. Or unconscious, can’t forget that one.

  I’d remembered why, and I seriously wished I hadn’t. “They killed Mom and Dad, ‘cause they wanted me as a mate for their Alpha—Marcus of the Sunclaw Pack. And to be shared with all the pack, of course,” I whispered brokenly. Images of Marcus standing over the shattered bodies of Mom and Dad flashed through my mind. His twisted smile as he stamped down, shattering their bones, searching for me, while I remained hidden—bound by a sworn oath to my Alpha, my father, not to reveal myself—not for anything, or any reason. “He killed my parents because they wouldn’t tell him where I was. They protected me—and they died for it.” Marcus had stood, naked from shifting, with the blood of my family coating his skin, and I had seen his eyes. Pure madness had looked back. Madness, and a depravity that had scared me to the bone. “And he found me, anyway,” I whispered.

  “Shit, Claire. I’m so sorry. But…what I don’t get…why you? You’re not Marcus’s true mate, you can’t be—”

  “Thank fuck, no! But, he believes that I am, and that once the mating hunt has been completed…so I ran. And I’m fast. Faster than they thought. I caught a coach, jumped across states. But, they must have tracked me—”

  “Sweetheart, I’ll make them pay for this, I swear.”

  My heart stuttered at the thought. “No, Adam! There are four of them tracking me, including Marcus. And he’s psychotic! Truly crazy.” I had to make him understand, he didn’t know, he hadn’t seen— “We have to run. They can’t track us forever…”

  “Shhh, I’ll protect you. But first, you need to heal. Do you think you feel well enough to shift now?”

  He was looking at me with almost overwhelming kindness on his gorgeous face, showing no signs of urgency, of haste. He just didn’t get it! I was going to get us both killed!

  “He knew me, as a child,” I blurted out, “when we were part of another pack, before we left to go lone wolf. The coyotes and wolves had an…agreement.” I flushed, embarrassment and shame flooding me. “Drugs,” I choked out, hating the admission.

  When Mom and Dad had found out that the pack were distributing cocaine for the coy
otes—the idiot fools—we had packed our bags and left that very same night. “We left because of it,” I continued, “but, Marcus had been sniffing around me for a while, making claims that I was his, bragging about having had me…”

  He had told everyone that we had fucked, in every way possible, describing it in extravagant detail—dragging my name through the mud, just to warn interested suitors away. And, it had worked. No one had dared come near me. Only my claws and speed had kept me safe from the coyotes. I shuddered, remembering living with constant fear, jumping at my own shadow. Just waiting for him to finally corner me, trap me, with no escape.

  “Why didn’t your Dad put a stop to this? Give him a beating he wouldn’t forget?” Adam growled, his whole body tense with anger.

  “Dad was just a regular pack member, he certainly wasn’t a real Alpha, thank the Mother, he took the job on in our small pack because he had to. The only real Alpha’s I’ve ever met are jerks… And don’t forget, Dad wasn’t in his prime anymore, not like Marcus.” My heart broke again at the thought of my Dad, a thinker rather than a fighter, ‘the wise old man’, my Mum used to joke.

  “And, your Alpha at the time, before you left? What the hell was he doing when all this was happening?”

  “Busy…we now know he was dealing drugs, running things—”

  “His job was to look after his pack, all the members—including you! Especially you!” He lurched to his feet, pacing circles in front of me. “Fuck!” he ground out, his muscles twitching with the need to shift. He slammed the wall with his fist, making me jump.

  I pressed on. “So you see, we’ve got to run. Unless your pack would take us in? Protect us? What’s your Alpha like?”

  “My pack…they’re solid. They would accept you without question. It’s just whether you…” He trailed off, an uncertain look on his face. “You need to heal,” he said quickly, obviously changing the subject.