by V. A. Dold
“That will do for now,” he panted back.
Sharon stood and walked across the room. “All right. As you may have gathered while watching Stefan, the shift is instantaneous. I don’t want to startle you, so tell me when you’re ready and I’ll change.”
He rubbed his hands together and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”
One heartbeat she stood before him wearing slacks and a silk blouse and the next a dark wolf with Sharon’s eyes stood in her place. Even though he’d been expecting it, he still yelped and scuttled back on the bed.
Instantly, Rizzo came into the room from where she’d been told to wait in the hall. She sat at the foot of the bed, placing her body between the wolf and her human. Where normally Rizzo may have growled at an obvious threat to her owner, she instead cocked her head and whined.
Mark watched, not moving a muscle as Sharon the wolf sat on her haunches. Gulping breaths like a fish out of water, he fought a panic attack. He scooted to the end of the bed again where he could reach his dog. He needed his anchor when he felt lost in a sea of emotional chaos. He worked his fingers into Rizzo’s fur, gathering strength and calm from his PTSD dog. It took a couple minutes, but his breathing slowed until it was close to normal and the tension began to leave his muscles.
In that heartbeat when a wolf stood before him, his first instinct had been to make a run for it. The problem was, his feet wouldn’t listen to what his brain was screaming. The shock of seeing the woman he was rapidly falling in love with turn into an animal still thrummed through his body like an out of control electrical current. And yet, he felt compelled to touch her.
Finally, he found his voice again. “Sharon? Is that really you?”
The wolf nodded. Yes, it’s me.
“And you won’t bite me?”
This time the wolf shook it’s head. No, silly man. I told you, the wolf is me in another form. Then her voice became sultry and teasing. I won’t bite you unless you want me too.”
Mark chuckled at her teasing. Then he blushed and mumbled, “I’m sorry I reacted so poorly. Seeing you turn into a wolf is going to take some getting used to.”
Maybe you need to do more than just watch. You can touch me if you want to.
“Really?” He held his hand out past Rizzo like he would to an unfamiliar dog.
He watched as she slowly walked toward him and sat beside the dog within touching distance.
He reached out and gingerly touched her fur. “You’re a beautiful woman, Sharon. And your wolf is gorgeous.”
Based on Rizzo’s wagging tail, she approved of Sharon’s wolf as well.
Mark buried his trembling fingers into her luxurious pelt. Her fur was like silk under his fingertips. Rizzo stood to sniff Sharon. With his dog out of the way he was able to use both hands and lean closer to her wolf. His new position brought his face close to her muzzle and before he knew it, a slobbery tongue ran up his left cheek from jaw to hairline.
“Sharon.” He chuckled and pulled back to look her in the eye. Completely incongruous with the proper woman he’d come to know, the sight she created with her wolf’s tongue lolled out the side of her mouth as she made a chuffing noise made him laugh harder.
In a blink, Sharon sat at his feet fully clothed, in human form. “I’m so sorry my wolf startled you. Are you all right, Mark?”
He sat forward on the edge of the bed to cup her cheek. The shock and adrenaline from what he’d just witnessed still coursed through his veins. As much as he tried to control his body, his breath and hands were still shaky. “As long as I have you, I’m fine. Although, I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact you turned into a wolf.”
He took another deep breath to calm his shaken nerves and inhaled a lungful of banana bread. That brought his thoughts back around to her questions she’d asked him before turning his orderly world on its head. “Sharon, why do you smell like my grandmother’s bread?”
She tilted her head to look up at him and gauge his ability to digest more information. He’d had two terrifying shocks today, how much more could he take? “Are you sure you’re ready for me to explain shifters to you?”
“To tell you the truth, probably not. But at the same time, I won’t be able to relax until I understand what’s happening and what it has to do with me.”
“All right. Why don’t we have coffee on my back patio while I explain everything.”
He nodded. “A cup of coffee sounds good.”
Smiling, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm as they made their way to her kitchen with Rizzo on their heels.
As they entered the large stainless steel, commercial looking space, she removed her hand and set about making coffee. After she pushed the brew button, she turned and grinned sheepishly. Her hand swept the immaculate room. “I can’t cook as well as Leslie, but I can make a wonderful pot of coffee.”
Mark grinned at her. “I find that hard to believe. I would bet good money, there is very little you couldn’t do once you put your mind to it.”
Before she could reply, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her.
“But I’m an accommodating man. Coffee is all I need, darlin’.” Then he leaned down and kissed her senseless until the final sputtering of the coffee pot caught their attention.
“Coffee’s ready,” she breathed as she stepped from his arms and pulled cups from a cupboard. “I’m not sure how you take yours. There’s cream in the refrigerator and the sugar is to your right in the red ceramic sugar bowl.”
“I like mine sweet and black. Do you use cream? I can get it for you.”
“No, thank you. I like mine black.”
She filled a cup for him and waited as he added sugar. Then she led the way to the patio.
“This is really something special,” Mark said as he admired the view.
She had to agree. The birds always serenaded her, but today they were outdoing themselves, and the blooms smelled extra fragrant.
Sharon laughed softly. “I call it my secret garden. My mother spent a small fortune on these patio stones and the landscaping. Only the best designers and gardeners would do. And don’t get me started on the custom fountain.” She was pleased that he paid attention and listened to what she had to say. With the mention of each facet of the garden he looked to see what she referred to.
“After they moved away, I took over some of the work myself. I find it very therapeutic. Oh, I still employ a gardener. A garden this size is too much for one person. And I have a service to mow and tend the trees, but I like to feel the earth under my hands. I’m out here every morning walking among the herbs and flowers, harvesting and pulling the occasional weed.”
Mark shook his head and grinned at her. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“I don’t know how amazing I am. Every woman needs her hobbies. I simply choose to garden rather than knit tea cozies or some such silliness.”
Once they were seated and Rizzo was in her regular spot at Mark’s feet, she took a sip and set her cup aside. “Would you like me to explain why you smell banana bread or would you rather enjoy your coffee first?”
“Please continue. I’d like to hear what you have to say,” he answered then took a sip.
“All right. First of all, you must understand for every shifter, there is only one true mate. A shifter knows they have found that special person when three signs present themselves. The Goddess who created the shifters set those signs in place so shifters could identify their mates when they meet them. Without the signs, a shifter would never know if they found their mate and they would miss the opportunity to live their lives with their perfect partner.”
Mark listened closely, his face displaying his rapt fascination.
“What are the signs?” he asked.
“Both of the people involved will smell a scent designed just for them. Which is why I smell like your grandmother’s banana bread. You as my other half, experience the same signs I do. Banana bread is obviously something you enjoy an
d have a pleasurable response to. As for me, I relish nothing more than walking through my spice garden and brushing my fingers along the basil and thyme to release their essence into the air. So, you smell just like a morning stroll through my garden.
“There will also be an immediate intense attraction between the people in question, and the ability to speak telepathically with each other.”
Sharon took a breath and a sip of coffee. She used the break to watch Mark closely for signs of overload.
Mark set his empty cup on the table and nodded to himself. “So, that’s why you asked me all those questions earlier. You wanted me to piece the signs together.”
She nodded. “Essentially. By you acknowledging the experience, my explanation is easier for you to accept.”
“You are a wise and crafty woman,” he teased and gave her a wink. “It worked.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” she teased back. “Would you like a refill before we continue?”
“Yes, please.”
She went inside to pour them each a fresh cup, and check the refrigerator for breakfast. Sure enough, her chef left a platter of pastries for her. She handed the sweets to Mark before grabbing two napkins, and small plates. Moments later, they were sipping hot coffee, and moaning in delight.
Sharon dabbed her mouth with her napkin and swallowed. “Do you see why I don’t cook and instead employ my chef?”
Mark swallowed the last bite of his sweet roll so he could respond. “These are the best things I’ve ever eaten. But I’m sure your cooking would make my taste buds dance as well.”
“You’re sweet to say that. But I guarantee that while I can indeed cook, I can’t hold a candle to Leslie.”
Mark grinned and winked at her. “I think I’ll have to test that theory and have you make me dinner.”
“Oh, you do?”
“Absolutely. How about tonight?”
“I think I could arrange that as long as you keep your expectations low.”
“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Anyone who smells like my grandmother’s banana bread has to be a fine cook.”
Sharon shook her head and laughed. “I don’t think the scent works that way.”
Mark admired her as he sipped his coffee. “You know what?”
She tilted her head and smiled. “What?”
“I would have had a visceral reaction to seeing you even without the whole shifter thing.”
“Thank you. I think you’re amazingly sexy as well.” She reached across her bistro table and took his hand. “Are you ready to hear more?”
“Sure, hit me with it. You mentioned something about the entity that created shifters. What’s that about?”
“Good question. Long ago the Wolf-Goddess Luperica blessed a village of humans with wolf souls. Over time as those first shifters found their mates and had children, the numbers have grown. I’m not sure what the actual count is today, but I would hazard to guess there are close to a million shifters worldwide. Most new shifters are either created when a human is claimed by an existing shifter or born to shifter couples. Although on rare occasions, the Goddess will bless a human with a wolf soul as she did that first village. Simon’s nephew John was recently granted a wolf soul. He was the first human to be blessed in over one hundred fifty years.”
Marks eyes widened and his brows rose to nearly his hairline. “Hold on. Are you telling me I could become a shifter?”
“Yes. During the claiming ritual, you’ll be given a wolf soul, shifter magic, and all the gifts that entails. The second soul will give you the ability to change into a wolf just like I do.”
His brows fell and a deep crease developed between his eyes. “I don’t see how that would work. I would be a wolf with three legs. Being a maimed human is bad enough, I’m not sure I want to be a three legged gimpy wolf, too.”
“Mark, if I may ask, how old were you when you lost your leg?”
“The attack was a few months ago, and I’m thirty eight, why?”
Sharon’s smile widened and her eyes took on a bright sheen. “Excellent.”
“Why would that be excellent?” His confusion and annoyance was heard in his voice.
“To explain why, I first need to tell you about shifters and aging.”
“Aging?”
“Shifters are long lived and age differently than humans. Where a human lives about eighty years on average, a shifter lives up to fourteen hundred years.”
Mark choked on his coffee.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I think so.” He pushed his cup away for good measure. “Okay, so you were saying y’all live a crazy long time.” Dang, his drawl was back. It always grew thick when he was stressed.
“A shifter ages just like a human until they reach the age of about twenty-five. Then the aging stops until the shifter reaches nine hundred. At that point, the aging begins again, but at a very slow rate.”
A bit of concern showed in his eyes. “Does that make you over nine hundred years old?”
Sharon grinned and chuckled. “No. Shifters use magic to appear to age for the human population. It allows us to remain undetected. Would you like to see what I actually look like?”
He sat forward. “I love the way you look right now. You’re a beautiful woman. Although I admit, I’m curious to see the younger version of you.”
“Thank you, but this isn’t my normal appearance.” Instantly, a younger Sharon smiled at him.
“Damn. I didn’t think I could get any luckier. You’re breathtaking.”
“I take it you like the real me.”
“Like doesn’t come close. I’m floored.”
Sharon blushed a pretty shade of pink. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.”
He’d been listening closely, but for the life of him, he wasn’t grasping how shifter aging affected him. “So, what does all that have to do with my leg?”
“You’re over twenty-five. When a human is claimed and that person is older than their mid twenties, he or she goes through a regression to the state of health and physical appearance they enjoyed when they were twenty-five. You, will regress to a physical state where you haven’t lost your leg.”
“Are you telling me I’ll get my leg back!”
“Yes. That’s precisely what I’m telling you. Although, we’ll need to speak with Emma Le Beau, Simon’s mother, before we do the claiming. I’m concerned about the pain you will experience as your leg is regenerated. I’m not sure a human has ever been claimed who has experienced such an injury. I would like to see if there’s a painkiller we can give you to help you through the ordeal.”
“A painkiller would be welcome, but I’ll go through it regardless of the level of pain if I can get my leg back.”
“Before you rush to a decision, I have more to explain.”
“Okay, what else do I need to know?”
She took a sip from her cup and tipped her head. “Let’s see, what haven’t I covered? Oh, yes. I was about to explain mates. I want to be perfectly clear, a mate is not a girlfriend or a wife, although many couples celebrate their mating with a human wedding as well. A mate is an individual designed and created to be the one true partner for a shifter. That destined mate could come from the shifter community, but more often than not, a true mate is a human. Mates are perfectly matched to complete each other. Two people who are idyllic life partners and lovers to such a degree, it’s almost impossible to describe. It may be hard to believe, but finding and accepting a mate is guaranteed happiness.
“But more than that, mates each carry one half of a soul and when the ritual is completed that soul binds back together. The shared soul and mated bond creates a solid relationship like you’ve never imagined. You’re my mate, Mark. You hold the other half of my soul and I yours.”
“It sounds like this mate thing would make dating and falling in love a heck of a lot easier than anything I’ve experienced that’s for su
re.”
“It is easier. This isn’t anything like dating. Mates are destined and drawn to each other. They skip right over the dating part. And as such, there’s an immediate attraction between the two people, which you already know. Being destined and sharing two halves of a soul creates a situation where the couple wants and needs to be together. And I have to tell you, it’s absolutely normal for mates to fall in love at first site and complete the ritual within days of meeting. That level of intensity and passionate need can be frightening for a human. Instant love and commitment isn’t normal for you.”
“Hot damn! So you’re telling me, I get the girl of my dreams without trying? And if I do whatever the ritual entails, I get a woman who is mind blowingly perfect for me, and my leg back?”
Sharon made the mistake of taking a sip of coffee as he reacted to what she’d told him. Coffee spewed across the space and soaked his chest. “Oh my Goddess, I’m so sorry!” she cried as she tried to dry his chest with her napkin.
Catching her hands, he chuckled at her embarrassment and hopeless attempt to clean his T-shirt. “Darlin’, I don’t think that’s going to do a bit of good. Don’t worry your pretty head. No harm, no foul.”
Chapter 9
Mark’s white shirt was no match for her black coffee. Her insistence on cleaning the mess she’d made amused him. There was no telling this woman no, so he sat back and enjoyed the attention. Several napkins later, Sharon admitted defeat. “I have a couple of my father’s T-shirts upstairs. I’ll be but a minute.”
“You don’t have to…”
But she was already out of sight. Mark frowned at the sitting room they passed through to get to the patio. Where had she gone? She should have been right there. He looked harder. There wasn’t a single inch of that room he couldn’t see. What the hell?
He was still pondering her vanishing act, when a blur rushed toward him and stopped next to the table.
Instant chaos reigned.
Rizzo shot to her feet, barking.
Mark’s arms pin wheeled.
