by Angela Foxxe
“Is this what you want?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, oh my god, yes, from the moment I saw you, something inside of me snapped. I want to spend my life with you, make babies for you, please, oh god, fuck me,” she pleaded.
Kirk’s momentary astonishment faded fast as she pushed her pelvis forward. Wolves didn’t suffer from lack of action, and they mated for life. He growled as their kissing resumed. His hands roamed up to her tits, squeezing and massaging her nipples. She moaned as his pants slid down revealing his massive cock.
“Will I be one of you?”
“If we have a child, then yes, I can turn you if you want.”
He couldn’t contain himself anymore. He heaved her over to the bed, pouncing on top of her.
*
Cold water pounded down over Monique’s naked body, partially cleansing the lust she felt when she thought of Paul. A new wave of guilt, followed by need, flowed through her. She loved Carver, of that there was no doubt. Since she loved him, she couldn’t act on this. Couldn’t let some other man, no matter how powerful his draw, pull her from Carver. Without realizing, she slipped her fingers between her legs; the instant satisfaction elicited a moan from her lips.
Fuck, even under a cold shower I’m as hot as an oven.
She turned the water off. If it wasn’t going to help there wasn’t any need to be in it. The cotton robe hung where she left it. This late in the fall, the rooms were cool and only needed heating at night. Letting the robe hang open, she sat at her desk. Digging around for a minute, she found a pen and paper and started writing. She worked on the first paragraph for a moment before crumpling it up and throwing it in the wastebasket. She needed to leave, at least for a couple of days. Not without explaining things to Carver, though. He could smell her attraction to Paul, as could the senator. That’s why she needed to go.
A soft knock on her door interrupted her. The wastebasket sat half full of crumpled paper; this was getting her nowhere.
“One sec,” she muttered, frustrated. The door opened to reveal Paul. His presence hit her like a hammer. The soft smell of cologne and musk, his hard blue eyes, the curve of his jaw. She whimpered. Her mind caved and a single tear dropped down her right cheek. She wouldn’t be able to resist him, not this close.
He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but instead stepped inside the room. She felt herself move back to let him in. She fought it, but a haze of indecision rolled over her mind. Clouded by the burning desire to feel his touch, to have him take her.
He walked into her room, looked around, taking in the bed, the sparse decorations, the bare walls. The only thing that would tell anyone that the room belonged to her was a photo of two people, holding a little girl. She flinched when he reached out to her. The wolf behind his face grinned—she could feel her attraction to him.
“Please,” she whispered as he moved closer to her, “I don’t want this.” He paused for a moment. Her head felt like a jumbled mass of ideas, of needs, she wanted to be more than her base lusts, but around him that seemed impossible.
“We’re wolves Monique, we take what we want, and we dominate. I don’t expect you to understand that, but Carver does, he knows you’re mine now. It’s as simple as that.” He smiled as he spoke.
Monique tapped into her well of rage, fists clenched.
“I’m not something you can own, Paul,” she said. “I’m not a mindless slave of Carver’s; this is as much my home as it’s his.” Her accent came out in her voice making her words have an over-pronounced quality. Despite her feelings, they were physical, not mental; the only thing she felt for Paul was a physical need to be fucked by him. When she thought of love, of compassion, of all the things that made her heart beat, it was Carver’s face.
“We don’t control these things Monique, they control us. It’s what makes us different, it’s what allows to produce genetically superior offspring. When Portia finds a wolf that makes her feel this way, it will be her duty to have children with him, just like it’s yours to bear mine.” He reached out and grasped the edge of her robe. It slid off her body slowly, the fuzzy material scraping her skin sending little bolts of electricity through her. Goosebumps popped up all over her. He smiled as she squirmed, standing naked in front of him.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to be looked at, but unable to resist. An image flashed in her mind; she could see Portia, in a robe like the one that now lay at her feet. The robe fell to the floor and strong hands pulled her into an embrace.
“I think you’re going to have to test that theory,” Monique said through deep breaths.
“What?”
“She found that wolf; they’re together right now.”
“That’s not possible, I made sure of it.” Paul shook his head, he was right in front of her now. His hands glided up her arms, her body mere inches away from him. Somehow he’d taken his shirt off. His muscles rippled with excitement. Fingers gently guided her jaw up, his lips brushed against her.
In her mind she fought, screamed, railed against this. He was right though, the wolves did things differently and there was only so much she could do to stop it but… Pain shot through her. She heaved Paul away to slam in the wall opposite. Her legs gave out and she slumped to the floor.
“Monique, what’s wrong?”
She writhed on the floor for a moment, limbs twitching as if she were electrocuted. Spittle flew from her mouth and she screamed. Then it was gone. She blinked a few times to clear her head.
Kirk!
Something hurt him. Monique heaved herself up, her own muscles rippling with the urge to shift. She had to get outside first—none of her forms were that suited for indoors. She stalked out with Paul following close behind her, barraging her with questions she couldn’t hear. Her sole focus was to find Kirk.
The two of them turned at the end of the hall and ran straight into Carver. He smiled in confusion when he caught sight of her naked body. The frown and hurt that followed when Paul appeared without his shirt right behind her burned in her brain. She didn’t have time for it now.
“What’s going on?” he said barely above a whisper, his voice thick with emotion.
“Kirk,” was all she could say, her whole being focused on finding him. There was really only one place he could be. The window on the stairs would do. She threw the window open, and leapt. Paul yelled after her, but his voice was lost in the scream of the hawk.
She cut sharp and up. Being on the opposite side of the building, she needed to get around and over it fast. Once above, she spied two of the senator’s SUVs parked with their engines running. The agents carried two sleeping forms into the front one.
Her inner-beast roared as they made off with Kirk and Portia. She folded her wings in and dove to the ground in the blink of an eye. Three agents stood on guard behind the lead SUV as it drove off.
Monique shifted as she touched the ground, her hawk becoming a polar bear. They screamed. The small, black automatic weapons lit up the night. Stinging pain shot up and down her as the sprayed bullets into her skin. The tail lights of the first SUV rapidly disappeared down the road. She needed to hurry. With a roar, she swiped at the closest one. Too stunned to move, he took it in the chest. His body crumpled to the ground. The next one screamed as she crushed his arm with her massive jaws. The last one tried to get in the vehicle. She dragged him out by his ankles. He turned and fired his pistol into her at point blank range.
She tossed his broken body aside with a jerk of her head. The lights were gone now, the road was dark. The bear’s job was done. She shifted into her leopard.
“Monique, wait!” Carver yelled behind her. She had no time though. As fast as she was as a hawk, she couldn’t see that well at night. Only the leopard could see well enough, and run fast enough to keep up. The vehicles were limited in speed by the curvy road, but that was only true for the first few miles. Once they hit pavement—Kirk was gone. Her sharp howl split the night as she charged down the road.
The cold a
ir whipped by her face. Her paws gripped the dirt road until it curved, then she leaped into the bush to rush down the switchback and gain distance. Her ears picked up the sound of a heavy vehicle. They ran with their headlights off as they cruised down the dirt road. Claws sunk into the dirt inches behind the truck; she hadn’t been fast enough. Without missing a beat, she heaved her legs into motion. The road continued to switch back for another half mile—she had one more chance to get them. Over a dead log and she was back in the forest, darting under trees and through brush.
The road approached, and this time she was well ahead of the escaping vehicle. She skidded to a halt in the dirt, coming to rest in the middle of the road. The engine revved up as the driver spied her in the middle of the road. He intended to hit her. Monique put her shoulder forward and shifted into the bear. The brakes were too late. Two tons of truck hit one ton of bear. Metal collapsed, glass shattered, bone broke, as the truck and Monique collided. Bear and metal rolled into the trees in a horrific crash of flesh and metal.
The world stopped spinning and she felt her strength flee. Her body shifted back into human, broken, bleeding, and bruised. She could see the stars from where she lay on her back. Carver… I’m sorry. Blackness took her.
CHAPTER 16
Warmth rolled over her where she lay. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in the stars. She took a deep breath as the memory of the impact washed over her. The speeding truck slammed into her polar bear, sending both over the cliff. Monique winced in agony as she pulled herself up. Ribs ground against each other, blasting her with pain that threatened to black her out. She fell back on the ground.
She turned her head experimentally. To her right, the SUV lay upside down, its front end caved in. The twisted metal was barely recognizable as a vehicle. They'd rolled down the cliff for three hundred feet before coming to rest at the lip of the gorge. She spread her hands out; the lip of the gorge was only a few feet to her right.
Okay, move carefully, get to the SUV, get Kirk out.
The exposed bottom of the car burned. Monique felt the heat from the flames warming her skin, now that she could see it. The orange fire lit up the immediate area. She grunted as one of her ribs slipped back into place. The bones knitted together as her body did its best to heal her from the massive trauma the accident caused. Not to mention the gunshots that got through her tough skin. Bears were tough, but not bulletproof. The adrenaline that surged through her when Kirk was in trouble was long gone. Now everything hurt.
Holding her ribs with one hand, she made her way to the SUV. Unable to stand, she crawled as best she could. The passenger side faced her. The driver’s body was a mess of blood and tissue. No one was in the passenger seat. The back window must have been bulletproof since it wasn’t shattered so much as bent. She spun on her back and kicked it with her feet. The tough glass bounced a few times before finally caving in. Her feet came away bloody from cuts and scrapes.
“Kirk!” she screamed as she poked her head inside.
No one sat in the back. Both bench seats were empty with no sign of him. The flames roared to new life, the heat forcing Monique back. The car would act as a beacon to the rescue party, but it would take them hours to get down here. She didn’t have that kind of time to wait—she needed to find them now. The moon stood considerably higher in the sky than when she first saw it. She figured she’d been out for roughly thirty minutes, maybe an hour. That gave the people who had Kirk a big head start.
The SUV burned fiercely as she circled it, she had to keep her distance because of the heat, but at least it provided plenty of light. On the opposite side, she spied drag marks in the ground. She knelt down to examine them. Two legs dragged from the SUV. The light from the fire extended a hundred feet, she could see the marks continued on, but after that it was too dark to see.
With one hand on her ribs to ease the ache, she took a tentative step. Her feet hurt with each step. The light behind her faded as she hobbled further away from the wreck. Scrub brush and loose gravel made up most of the bank the road rested on. It took a year and a lot of money to have it carved into the side of the mountain. Now Monique wished it wasn’t here at all. The tracks continued parallel to the road for hundreds of feet. The dragging stopped and turned into the footprints of two people walking. An hour passed as she limped along before her ribs healed, followed by her feet. By the time she reached the road, her body felt good as new, though her stomach growled with hunger from all the calories she expended to get there.
She knelt down on the dirt road to get a better look at the tracks. The compact surface was considerably harder to scuff, so seeing the tracks in the moonlight was nearly impossible. They were certainly heading uphill, not down like she would think. Why up? If they were trying to get away, then going down made sense. If they were meeting someone, then the same. There wasn’t anything up the mountain except the resort and scattered hunting lodges.
Monique shrugged, it made no difference. With her wounds healed, she felt good enough to shift. The moonless night meant she was better off being a cat than a hawk. With a growl, she changed into her snow leopard. Padded feet made less noise than a whisper. Her sensitive nose picked up Kirk’s scent, along with Portia, and two others she didn’t recognize. Though one seemed vaguely familiar.
The trail wound up the mountain side, avoiding the resort by heading east. After half an hour, it left the road and went into the woods. Something’s not right here. Monique couldn’t think of a single reason why they would go into the woods. They had to know what the pack was capable of on the mountain.
*
“Help me!” Kirk screamed. He kicked the door with both feet. Every muscle in his was body energized from adrenaline. The vinyl on the inside of the door tore away as he kicked it. Portia lay unconscious next to him; he could hear her breathing at least. He tried not to look at the driver. The front of the SUV was partially collapsed, the poor man had been crushed under it. He kicked again, the metal bent with a screech.
Agent Nah collected her wits and pushed with him. The door tore open and he was free. He scrambled back in to pull Portia out. Her seatbelt came undone easily enough. He put his arms under her shoulders to drag her out. As he backed out of the SUV, he felt the cold metal of a gun press against his spine.
“I know exactly what you are. You can’t dodge this, and she certainly can’t. Behave and she lives, misbehave and I swear I will kill her before you can blink. Understand?”
Genuine fear pumped through his veins. He’d never felt such overwhelming agony before. He looked down at her unconscious, heart-shaped face and his heart bled for her. In that moment, he realized he would do anything to keep her safe.
“Yes, just don’t hurt her,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. The gun vanished from his back and the agent helped him pull her out. They dragged her a few feet from the SUV. A small fire burst to life in the under carriage. In the growing light, Kirk caught a glimpse of a bare foot through the opposite window. The smooth black skin could only be Monique. He hadn’t seen what caused the accident, but the way the driver screamed, he could only imagine that Monique had scared the crap out of him. He longed to run to her, to make sure she was okay, but he had to have faith in her. To trust that she would be all right. He couldn’t have that same trust that Portia would be. If he left her alone, there was no telling what the agent would do to her.
“Listen, you have me. Leave her here for the others to find.” He reasoned he could trade himself for her. After all, he was important. This wasn’t the first time someone tried to kidnap him.
“What? Why would I want you?” Nah’s gun was out in a flash, barrel pointed at his chest.
“Because I—” what could he tell her? He was some sort of chosen one? No, that wouldn’t work.
“My father’s rich,” he said lamely.
“So is hers, but this isn’t about money. Pick her up; we need to go and I need you to carry her.”
Kirk lifted her gently; she mumbled as he
put one arm over his shoulders and then lifted her legs. She didn’t weigh much to him, though he was certainly stronger than the average seventeen-year-old. Despite the circumstances, it felt right to be holding Portia. When they came for them in her room, she hadn’t time to put anything on. She wore the only thing she could, a flimsy nightgown that revealed almost everything. He blushed as he looked down at her. To him, she was the most beautiful thing he could imagine.
For someone kidnapping their boss’ daughter, and having it go horribly wrong, Agent Nah seemed calm. She also seemed to know exactly where they were going. She led them up to the road, then east, back the way they came.
“Nah,” a voice called out from the darkness. The agent spun, weapon out in a blink of an eye. An attractive woman, dressed in a suit similar to Nah’s, came out of the brush. Kirk recognized her as one of the caterers. What is going on?
“I thought you didn’t make it,” she said to her cohort. They hugged and looked at him holding Portia.
“Is she still alive?” the newcomer asked.
“He’d be crying like an infant if she wasn’t. Come on, we don’t have much time.”
The road curved up the mountain, but they took off into the woods, staying the course of heading east.
“She needs medical help, she’s not like us.” Kirk took a chance that there was more to these two than met the eye.
Nah looked back at him, her hand tightening around her pistol. “You don’t know what ‘we’ are, boy. But we know what you are.” She waved to her partner. “Check her out.”
Kirk put her down as gently as he could, resting her head on his shirt. As he stood back waiting, giving her plenty of room, he took a moment to survey the odds. If they knew he was a wolf, then they knew he was fast. Maybe they were, too, though he should have been able to smell it this close. Gingerly he leaned against a tree, twisting right to left to make sure his sweat wiped off on the bark. If anyone was following—and he was sure they were—this would help.
