by Kele Moon
Everything felt broken.
It all smelled wrong. She wasn’t sure why she knew it, but she did.
She needed her mate.
Her body ached, but only Desmon would do, other males made her feel horribly uncomfortable to the point that she felt sick.
Finally, she stopped to sit in the mud and rain, staring at her paws, dirty and wet. Her pale fur was stained pink in places, the scent of it still choking her.
Amber didn’t have paws—she had hands.
The second she thought it, she found herself kneeling naked in the middle of the forest, and it wasn’t an improvement. She got shakily to her feet, too overwhelmed to worry about her lack of clothing.
It felt like her smallest problem, especially when she couldn’t figure out how to turn back into a wolf, even though she could still hear like one. The howls in the distance resonated like whispers far inside her ears. The gust of the wind through the leaves haunted her, but the rush of water flowing downstream called out. She started stumbling through the woods, following the sound of the river.
Being in human form was awful. The panic was overwhelming, making her feel vulnerable. Too many thoughts swirled around in her mind when only two things really mattered, getting these other males’ scents off her and finding Desmon.
The light and shadows looked strange. The scents were still too weird, too different than they were when she was human. She relied on her ears, the echo of water rushing over rocks leading her like salvation, and she kept going, even when the howls sounded closer and the rustle of leaves seemed to change. Her senses told her something was off.
She took off, feeling a weird pop in her bones when the whispers of the forest turned to growls behind her. It got easier for her once more, and Amber started running hard. It wasn’t until she took a left, still desperate for the river, that she glanced over her shoulder, seeing the blur of her own white tail—before something jumped out of the trees at her.
Amber snarled and snapped when she was suddenly rolling in the mud, but this wolf was different than Rich. He didn’t cower when she bit him. He bit back, sharp teeth and powerful jaws crushing down on her shoulder when he jumped on her.
Amber’s yelp of agony turned into a scream of pain when she was suddenly in human form once more. Flat on her face on the forest floor, with wolf teeth buried in tender flesh, she fought to get away from him, but then he was human, too. He wrapped a forearm around her throat from behind, getting her in a choke hold before she could get away.
“Stop fighting, and I’ll give you what you want. Leroy told me you were alpha feisty, but I’m one, too. You’ll like how I do it.” He breathed against her ear. “You want me to fuck you, huh? Give you a little taste before later?”
Amber struggled harder.
“Hey!” He fisted her hair, jerking her head back. “I said I’d give it to you now.”
“Go suck a bag of dicks!” Amber growled low and deep in her chest, and then flashed her teeth in the darkness when she saw it was Gary, the weirdo from town. “Give it to yourself! You disgust me!”
“Sure.” He snorted like her words meant nothing. “You’ll be thanking me once you have a thick one in you, begging for more like the rest of them. We already know you like shifter dick, and trust me, Goodwin alpha’s better than Nightwind alpha any day of the week.”
Fear washed over her, a blanket of horror even the wild, fearless new side of her couldn’t resist when she found herself pinned down by this naked Goodwin. She yelped and cried out, flashing between wolf and human; it was agonizing on her bones and her muscles. Gary started cursing, trying to hold her down while she fought to free herself before he could enter her.
She managed to slip away for a few seconds, scampering in the mud in human form, but she was dragged back by her hair as Gary huffed, “Look at this, a brand-new bitch in bloodlust, not wanting it. You know what that means, don’t you? You have specific tastes, sweetheart, ’cause we both know you’re desperate for it. I can smell it. I think you have a mate.”
The harder she wrestled to get away, the more amused he seemed to become, until Amber found herself flat on her back with Gary straddled over her. He forced both her hands over her head, holding her there while she snarled and panted like a feral animal.
She tried to turn back into a wolf, desperate for her teeth, but she wasn’t sure how she had actually been doing it. The smell of him was making her genuinely ill, and she finally gave up, chest heaving, and turned her head away to get a clear breath of air.
“Okay, which one is it?” Gary’s hold on her wrists was bruising. His strength terrifying. “I smelled Desmon on you in town. I figured it was a hookup, a little weekend human to get sticky with since he’s so sentimental about them, but maybe that’s not it. If you’re fucking in the pack, it could’ve been any of them. Did he share you with Jazz, too? Did the two of them stop loving each other long enough to finally put a female between them? They probably keep you there every night, don’t they?
“Or Miles. Maybe you had a little Nightwind sandwich for dinner last night.” He leaned down and sniffed her again. “And your scent is sexy as hell, with that little extra alpha-bitch bite. I’m gonna love fucking you while he watches, but I don’t think I wanna wait until later. If you’re going this crazy, I want to see what he does when he smells me all over you.”
He kissed her neck, and she gagged, wanting to sink into the earth to get away from him. He just laughed as she kept her head turned away, breathing through her mouth to hide from his scent, but it wasn’t helping much.
She smelled it first, like a rush of fresh air, spicy and warm. For one moment, all the insanity seemed to still as she turned her head to look through the dark trees sparkling with life under her night vision.
If Gary had been paying attention, he might have noticed the change in her. Amber was still staring out to the woods, waiting for him, when a huge black wolf leapt out of the darkness, knocking Gary off her.
15
Amber felt the scrape of claws against her skin when the two of them rolled into the woods in a spray of fur and blood.
Though he was in wolf form, she knew it was Desmon. She recognized him, and even if she hadn’t, she could feel him on every level, but it didn’t calm her down. The sounds from the fight were vicious, the snarling, chilling battle of two dangerous canines. It was hard to see who was winning, but the combat was different than she’d seen with Jazz earlier. It was blatant in the first few seconds that the two of them were desperate to kill each other.
Amber started pacing in front of the two males fighting, feeling anxious, growling, wanting to help her mate, but not knowing how.
Then Gary shifted to his human form and grabbed Desmon, throwing him against the large tree next to him, making the wood splinter from the impact of Desmon’s furry body.
When Desmon landed, a huge, motionless black wolf, Amber moved without thought, jumping at Gary when he changed back to attack Desmon with wolf teeth, but someone caught her before she could help her mate.
She immediately started fighting to get free from the stranger, to break out of the human arms wrapped around her, but he was too strong, his grip too powerful as he carried her away from Desmon.
Amber turned into a snarling, frantic beast, clawing at his arms with her paws, alternating between whining and growling as he stormed through the forest. He was talking to her, but she couldn’t register what he was saying, aside from his cursing and struggling to hold on to her while she fought with all her might to break free. The worst part was the way he was holding her, halfway over his shoulder, his hand pulling the skin of her neck to the point that she could barely breathe. It was making it impossible for her to bite him—like he knew how to keep an angry wolf tame.
It would be easier if she could turn back into a human and break away like that, but same as before, she wasn’t sure how to do it. The fear made it seem impossible, and the farther away she got from Desmon, the more blindingly panicked
she became, because this guy was the strongest, scariest one yet. His hold was like steel, but she had to get away from him to save Desmon—she had to—like she needed air.
“Goddamn it, you’ve got a mean wolf, like down-to-your-fucking-core nasty!” The stranger stormed right into the river, sinking up to his knees. “You and Desmon should be perfect for each other. His wolf’s an asshole, too.”
Amber sucked in a sharp breath when he dropped her in the cold water. For one violent moment, it stole all her breath, and then she broke through the surface, coughing and wheezing. Her hair was in her face, blinding her, and she flipped it back, realizing she was human again.
That was the only thought she had before she started toward the shore, but he caught her left hand.
“Don’t touch me!” Amber swung around and smacked him, hard, open palm against his cheek. She growled for good measure, showing off long teeth. “Stay away!”
“You’re not listening.” He spoke low, like he was trying to keep their location quiet, and he started blocking her hits when she went after him with intent, smacking his chest and arms, punching at the army vest he wore, because he wouldn’t let her hand go. “Just look at me.”
“Let me go!” She was still trying to hit him, but he blocked her over and over, never fighting back, just on the defensive, and it was extremely frustrating. When he finally caught her other wrist, holding them both trapped in his unforgiving grip, she tried to kick him in frustration because this man was like sticky paper. “I’ll kill you!” She broke one hand away from his hold, making him curse when she smacked him again and screamed in his face, “If he dies, I’ll fucking kill you!”
“He won’t die,” he growled at her in a low voice while still deflecting her blows. “I won’t let that happen. I’m on your side. That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
Amber fell on the bank of the river, landing flat on her back as she glared up at the man over her, still holding both her hands in his larger ones, forcing her to stare into familiar features. His tanned face was scarred, but even still, she had to admit his resemblance to Desmon was undeniable.
Too tired for the moment, she lay there panting, using the break to catch her breath She knew it was a break the Goodwins likely wouldn’t have given her. Just like a Goodwin wouldn’t have simply blocked all her hits instead of fighting back.
She learned that the hard way.
The man showed her his right biceps, where a black inked wolf decorated his arm, underneath it was the name Nightwind, branding him as one of Desmon’s pack.
He arched an eyebrow when she sucked in another hard breath. “Are you hearing me now? I’m Miles, Desmon’s cousin. We haven’t met yet, because I don’t do social bullshit, but we’re allies, okay? You can stop trying to rip my balls off now.”
Amber was still panting, trying to catch her breath, but she gave a small nod and it must’ve been enough. He fell exhausted onto the bank next to her, lying there in wet clothes while his muscular chest rose and fell with sharp, hard breathes.
She touched her shoulder that ached, looked back in the direction they’d came from, and started crawling up the bank.
“Amber, please stop. I know you want to save your mate, but he’s okay, and we have bigger problems,” Miles whispered. “Desmon grew up fighting in these woods. I wouldn’t have left him if I thought he couldn’t handle himself. He’s head alpha for a reason.”
She shook her head frantically, refusing to give up on him. “He’s hurt, I saw him, and—”
“You’re hurt.” He spoke in a soft growl, but the tone demanded she listen. “Look at yourself.”
For the first time, Amber glanced down at her body, seeing the blood, various scrapes and bruises spread over her pale skin. It all looked as bad as it felt, because lying down let her feel absolutely everything. Her muscles were still seizing from whatever the blood did to her. Her shoulder was on fire from where Gary bit her. She noticed she was naked, too, really feeling the reality of it for the first time, and she put a hand over her breasts on instinct.
“I don’t have any clothes,” she whispered, feeling a rush of shame beneath the fear and pain. “I tore them off, and—”
“I have clothes for you.” Miles sat up and pulled out a compact plastic bag of clothes from an inside pocket of his vest. “I had your sisters pack you something comfortable and easy to get out of before we left. I didn’t tell Desmon, but I knew you’d probably need it. We don’t change that many humans in Nightwind, but I used to work in the field. I know it’s hard for new shifters to hold their forms, especially if they’re changed under stressful circumstances.”
“Thank you.” Amber took the bag gratefully and pulled out one of her old concert shirts, loose fitting and comfortable. She tugged the black cotton material over her head, but didn’t bother with the rest. Instead, she just forced the shirt over her knees, tenting it and hiding as she looked toward the clearing once more. “I have to go back.”
“Listen to me, Amber, you’re injured. Your body is under an enormous amount of stress right now, and we’re in the middle Goodwin pack lands. The worst part is, your scent—”
Amber turned her head, hearing something far away in the clearing, from the direction where they’d left Desmon.
She took off.
From behind her, Miles muttered, “Are you fucking kidding me?” but she didn’t let it stop her.
She didn’t let the shirt stop her either, she ran with it on, her heartbeat thumping harder and louder in her ears. The smell was everywhere now, warm, spicy, safe. She needed it more than she had ever wanted anything for herself—ever—and she ran toward it with everything in her.
She heard Desmon before she saw him, his breathing mirroring her wild, panting desperation through the breeze in the leaves. He blended into the woods so beautifully in wolf form. Even with her brighter vision, the first thing she spotted of Desmon were his eyes glinting in the darkness. He was there. He was healthy, and she was so elated she could barely contain herself. Amber’s trust for him was blind, unyielding, powerful enough for her jump at him, knowing he’d catch her.
Desmon changed that quickly, between one breath and the next, his big, strong arms tightening around her, cradling her smaller furry body against his smooth chest. Her shirt was wrapped around her like a blanket, trapping her paws, but she didn’t care as he cuddled her tightly against him, keeping her there like he planned on never letting her go—which worked just fine for her, too.
“I got you.” He hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head, still walking with her as his entire body shook. “You’re safe. You’re strong. You’re going to be okay, Angel.”
She wanted to ask him if he was okay, too, and to be sure that Gary was dead and wasn’t coming back. Worse, how many more of his pack were still out in the woods waiting for them? But she couldn’t figure out how to shift again, and on a deeper level, it didn’t matter too much. Amber knew she was safe. The proof was holding her and walking through the woods. That powerful, steady hum of life still vibrated off him stronger than ever, and like Desmon probably knew she was going to be okay, despite evidence to the contrary, Amber knew Desmon was just fine.
It was going to take a lot more than Gary Goodwin to take him down.
That was the last clear thought she had before the blur of trees and leaves faded out to nothing but a deep, fathomless starry blackness…and Amber passed out.
16
Amber was warm.
Toasty.
The crackle of a fire drifted in and out of dreams that felt nice, even if she didn’t really remember them, like Christmas mornings and sunshine in late afternoons all mixed up into one. Even better, the air around her smelled like men’s cologne, only more natural. The best possible version of man, as if the earth made it just for her. She moaned and rolled over, sliding her hand over hard, sinewy muscle in appreciation.
“Ams.” A hand brushed the fine hairs at her temple, tucking stray strands behind her e
ar. “Hey.”
Amber blinked, seeing the fire first, orange and blue flames slowly coming into sharper focus as they danced hypnotically in the night. Desmon kept stroking her forehead, the curve of her neck, always touching her, like he needed the connection as much as she did.
She stretched then, feeling remarkably good. Her skin smelled really clean, like the river and soap rather than blood and dirt, as it had when she’d passed out, and Amber realized Desmon must’ve washed the Goodwins territory from her skin while she slept.
When she rolled over, Amber found herself on her back above a blanket laid over hard ground, with her head resting on Desmon’s bare thigh. Her muscles felt so strong but relaxed somehow. Fluid and dependable. It was a strange feeling, as if she simply didn’t have anything else to worry about where her body was concerned.
Absently, she felt her shoulder, remembering the crippling bite from Gary Goodwin. What she considered an ache in her shoulder while she was trying to get to Desmon, was actually something she realized now would have sent her to the hospital for a long time if she’d been human. A lot of things should have done her in, not just physically, but mentally as well. Strangely, it all felt quite recoverable, but it shouldn’t be—should it?
Her hair was braided, something she hadn’t done since she was young, and again, she knew Desmon must’ve done it, but it didn’t bother her.
“How are you?” Desmon sounded scared to ask.
She looked up at him then and took another mental stock of her injures, before she admitted, “I feel great, like a million bucks. You’d never know anything bad happened. It’s a really weird sensation, feeling this strong and healthy. It’s like waking up as a superhero.”
“I’m sure bloodlust is helping that along.” Desmon sighed, looking conflicted. “And you’ve been asleep since last night, so…”
