What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

by Kristin Miller

  He was speaking as if he really believed that line of bull.

  “You were bitten by a wolf?” Carrie asked.

  “A werewolf. A rogue shifter playing a cruel joke. Three years ago, two bites on my pulse points here and here”—he pointed to his neck and his wrist—“turned me into what I am. I thought it’d make me a monster, like the one who attacked me, but I swear I’m the same man I was before.”

  Carrie’s mouth dropped open. “You might as well be claiming to be bigfoot. How do you expect me to believe you?”

  “If you see the shift with your own eyes, it might help.” Mitch took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. “The last time you weren’t expecting it, so you didn’t know what you were watching. This time you’re ready, and I’m going to show you everything.”

  Ryder folded his arms over his chest. “Point of no return. Ever heard of it, Mitch? You’re about to blow right through it.”

  “I know,” Mitch said after a hard clench of his jaw, “but it’s the only chance I have at getting her to understand, and the only way she’ll believe me. Then we can go on with the wedding and put this behind us. No more lies.”

  Ryder nodded matter-of-factly and put up his hands in surrender. “No more lies.”

  At his words, Mitch’s chest muscles twitched. His entire body went rigid, flexed and on edge. And then everything happened so quickly, Josie could barely take a single breath in the flash of time. Mitch’s legs shortened as he dropped to all fours. Fur blanketed his body, covering the tan skin that had been there moments before. His nose elongated to a furry muzzle. His eyes remained wide and soft, but they moved back on his head—his very wolflike head—and blinked at Carrie expectantly.

  Carrie and Josie took a giant step back, flattening against the bar’s outside wall.

  God, Mitch really was a wolf. Full-fledged, howling at the moon, covered with fur head to paw.

  She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen the change happen with her own eyes.

  “Holy fuckity—” Carrie started, her hands trembling as she held them in front of her. “You’re a—I can’t even say it, but you’re a—”

  “Wolf,” Josie breathed to herself, staring at Mitch. Fear shot through her, cementing her feet in place. “That’s not possible.”

  As if he’d sensed her fear, Ryder was at her side a moment later, his arm wrapped around her waist.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

  Still, shock rattled through her at the sight of the wolf—Mitch—as it stalked closer. As she leaned against Ryder for support, he tucked her arm around him. Hugged her tight. A silent guard at her side. His presence made her feel protected. As if everything was going to be all right, even though they were staring at a freaking wolf—her sister’s future husband.

  Was she dreaming?

  What was that thing that she was supposed to do to discern nightmare from reality? A pinch. That’s right. If it hurt, all of this would be her new reality.

  Glancing down at where her arms twisted around Ryder’s, she reached down and gave him the hardest pinch she could. She gouged. Dug in her nails. Yanked his arm hair.

  “Mother eff!” Flinching, he jerked back. “What was that for?”

  She released him as giggles bubbled out of her. Laughing was the last thing she expected to do right now, but between her frayed nerves and Ryder’s face as it snarled into a grimace, she couldn’t help it.

  She fought back full-on belting laughter. “Pinches are supposed to tell dream from reality.”

  “Damn it, woman, you’re supposed to pinch yourself. This isn’t a dream.” Rubbing his arm, he chuckled tightly. “And you’re laughing. If I ever get into kink, I know you’ll be the one to get a rise out of inflicting pain…my little sadist.”

  The thought of being Ryder’s little anything made her stomach tumble. And then her thoughts whirled back to Mitch and the bizarre reality that faced them. Ryder’s reaction to his friend still didn’t make sense.

  “You knew he could do this,” she said, sliding back into his arms.

  It wasn’t a question.

  He nodded anyway, stirring up the anxiety in her once more.

  “I can’t breathe,” Carrie said, grasping at her throat. Her eyes went wide as they searched Josie’s face for reassurance. “I think I’m hyperventilating. My chest is tight, and I”—she pointed to Mitch—“I can’t believe I’m going to marry a werewolf. Day after tomorrow…I’ll be married to a dog!”

  “You don’t have to marry him, Carrie,” Josie said as her heart gave an empty pang. “No one would blame you if you wanted to cancel now.”

  “Why don’t you leave that up to her?” Mitch said, dragging her attention back around.

  He stood in front of them, as naked and sweaty as he’d been before.

  “What the hell—you’re back?” It was all she could think to say. As if somewhere in the last few seconds he’d gone on a faraway vacation and suddenly returned.

  But he’d been here all along.

  “It doesn’t take long to shift,” Ryder said, his head resting against hers. “Just a few seconds.”

  A shiver raced up her spine as she pulled back and gazed up into his eyes. They’d darkened in the last few seconds, and it wasn’t because of the shadows cloaking the alley.

  There was something else he wasn’t saying.

  Exactly how much did he know about this whole thing?

  “Mitch?” Carrie’s voice cracked. “When did the attack happen? How long have you been like this?”

  “Does it matter?” Josie’s blood went ice cold, even though her body radiated with the heat flowing from Ryder’s body. “I can’t believe you’re going to stand out here and listen to—”

  “Shh.” Carrie put up her hand and didn’t even glance her way. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Cue horrific shock.

  “I knew it’d be okay.” A grin curled the corner of Mitch’s lips. “I knew she’d love me anyway.”

  Shudders scattered up Josie’s arms, and Ryder wrapped her up tighter. Enveloped her completely. Brushed his hands up and down her arms to soothe away her worry. It worked. She eased into his touch. Her breathing slowed. Her muscles loosened.

  “I’m not saying I can get over this.” Hands keeping him at bay, Carrie backed away a few steps. “But I want to hear whatever it is you have to say. I don’t want to turn my back on you with questions or regrets.”

  Okay, so she was kind of a smarty-pants.

  “We’re fated to be together, Carrie. Can you feel the pull to me, deep in your gut?” As Mitch’s smile fell, he pressed a hand to his bare stomach. “From the moment we first touched, I knew you were the one for me. We’re destined. It’s you and me, babe. For the rest of our lives.”

  Yeah, Wolf Boy was sweet, but whatever. Romance couldn’t erase the crazy in him.

  As Ryder brushed his hands up her back, Josie warred with herself. One part of her wanted to pull Carrie out of the alley and back into the bar. Call the police. End the bachelorette party before someone got hurt. But the other part of her sensed Mitch wasn’t going to hurt Carrie. If that had been his true intention, he would’ve attacked while he was a hairy, snarling wolf.

  Had that really happened? Could it be true? What would that even mean?

  Werewolves are real?

  What would be next? Vampires? Dragons? Fairies?

  “Is he really telling the truth?” she asked, keeping an eye on Mitch.

  “I told you he was.”

  His body hardened against hers.

  “How is this possible?” She could barely push out the words. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true,” Ryder said, his voice laced with something dark. “This situation right here had to happen. I wish he hadn’t dragged you into this, but he drank too much today and—”

  “This was why you didn’t want them to get married,” she interrupte
d.

  Using two fingers, he touched her chin and brought her face up so she could look at him. “I didn’t think Mitch should be hiding something like that from the woman he was going to marry,” he said. “He couldn’t keep this secret and blindside your sister that way.”

  Honorable. Respectable.

  “All of this is too strange and unbelievable, yet it feels”—how could she explain the jumble in her head, and heart?—“insanely normal.”

  Josie watched the interaction between Mitch and Carrie closely. As Mitch whispered something to his fiancée, she shook her head. Buried her face in her hands. Pushed him away. Mitch dropped to his knees in front of her. Josie looked away, feeling as if she was spying on something private.

  “She’s not going to be able to handle something like this.” Sorrow settled over Josie like a wet blanket. “It’s too much for anyone to accept.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he mumbled. “Her view of him will change forever.”

  There was no way she would push Carrie into this. Not for a season’s worth of Martha Silverstone specials. Freaking out about his name was one thing, but marrying someone who was a—God, could she really say it?—a werewolf was something different.

  “Some werewolves marry non-shifters,” Ryder said, keeping his voice low and flat. “I hear it happens in the pack from time to time, but it’s not for everyone.”

  “The…pack?” Separating from the warmth of his body, Josie put space between him and folded her arms over her chest as she gave him her full attention. “There are other wolves?” She sucked in a clipped breath. “Wait, the park. I saw a large dog…”

  “A wolf, actually,” Ryder corrected for her. “You were right with your first suspicion.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair, looking more agitated than he had a moment before. “But most of the werewolves in the city are just trying to live out their normal lives. They’re like you and me.” He stopped, averting his gaze to his friend. “Hey, Mitch, can we get out of here? Can’t you grovel over text message like the rest of us?”

  Carrie scrubbed her hands over her face. “I just…can’t. It’s too weird.”

  There were so many things that were going to fall apart if they called off the wedding now. Deposits would be forfeited. Guests disappointed. Gifts returned. Egos bruised. Hearts broken. And one television special would be canceled, never again to be reshot.

  All of that heartache and pain-in-the-assness would be worth it, though. As long as Carrie wasn’t married to a man who could shift into a howling dog.

  As for Ryder…he’d known what Mitch was. He’d tried to stop the wedding. He’d pushed for Mitch to tell Carrie. He’d tried to do the right thing, even though she’d raked him over the coals for it. Still, he’d kissed her and touched her, more than any guy had in a long damn time.

  She’d been wrong to dismiss him.

  He’d been the only one being honest with the situation. And he hadn’t wanted to say anything to Josie about it because of his loyalty to his friend. Honesty and loyalty had always been the two biggest things she looked for when searching for a mate.

  Maybe her perfect match had been in front of her all along.

  “I should take her home,” Josie said as her heart rate finally returned to normal. “But I also want to thank you.”

  “Thank me?” His eyebrows arched high. “For what?”

  “I may’ve misunderstood what you were trying to do before, but I get it now,” she said. “You were trying to protect my sister.”

  “And Mitch.” Ryder’s blue eyes blazed like the tip of a flame. “I didn’t want him to get burned if your sister couldn’t accept him for who he was.”

  She’d been totally wrong about him.

  “Call me later?” she asked, making a wide circle around Mitch.

  She grabbed her sister with one hand and opened the door to the bar with the other. When she glanced back at Ryder, he had that sexy gleam in his eye—the one that made her simmer inside.

  Mitch dragged himself to his feet and smacked his hands together as if he were about to pray. “I’m the same guy I was before, Carrie. The same one who loves you and always will.”

  He may’ve been gaggingly sweet, but still. Werewolf. Who knew what they were capable of?

  “I’ll think about it.” Carrie stepped into the hall that led back to the bar and didn’t look back. “But I can’t promise anything.”

  “It might not work after all. You were right.” Mitch’s voice was low and dejected. “They’ll never understand what we are, or where we come from.”

  Whoa. Hold on.

  Backing up, Josie turned. “What we are? You’re talking about you and…”

  Ryder was a wolf? But he couldn’t be. She’d kissed him; she’d know if he was something other than a regular guy, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t like wolves had tongues that split into forks or something, but wouldn’t she have felt something different? This wasn’t possible. There was no way.

  Ryder raised his chin. Clenched his jaw. “I don’t blame you for being pissed.”

  She opened her mouth to cuss him out, but only jibbers came out. Stutters of sound that didn’t make a lick of sense. And then she slapped herself in the cheek as hard as she could. Starbursts of pain splintered through her cheekbone and into her temples, causing her head to throb.

  Nope. Not a nightmare.

  Definitely reality.

  For a split second, she actually thought she and Ryder could’ve had a real chance.

  “You lied to me. You let me take you in that closet and we almost…” She could’ve even finish the thought. “You should’ve said what you were from the start. You tricked me.”

  “Josie, I—”

  “Don’t. It’s too late.” She shied away as fear settled over her. “You’re not what I thought you were.”

  He flinched as his gaze met hers. “You’re right.”

  Vision swimming, she put up her hand, turned on her heel, and charged into the bar. Once she was safely in the hall with the door slammed closed behind her, Josie grabbed her sister by the hand and got the hell out of there.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Josie hadn’t slept so hard in all her life.

  A vision of a raven-haired werewolf with piercing blue eyes had stayed with her for hours, from the moment she closed her eyes. She hadn’t been afraid. Not for one second, and the dream went on all night long.

  In the dream, she stood outside Golden Gate Park, as she’d done when Ryder left her after following Mr. Boone. The wolf peeked its head out of the bushes. She’d startled at first. But this time, instead of running back to Ryder’s Charger, her feet led her into the park. Right up to the bushes where the wolf hid.

  It stared. Waiting. Anticipating her arrival.

  Crouching in front of the shrubs, a sense of calm washed over her. Her breathing was slow and relaxed, her heartbeat steady and even.

  Not a single ounce of fear flickered through her.

  “Hey, boy,” she said, reaching out for him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Moving eerily slow, the wolf backed into the shrubs, until only his head peeked out. Even cloaked in shadow, she could see his tall, stiff-legged stance. His thick tail curled up over his back, and his ears perked high over his head. Everything from the wolf’s posture to his penetrating gaze screamed dominance. This wolf was an Alpha, make no mistake about it.

  She should’ve been afraid, yet he was the one hiding, barely peeking his head out to watch her.

  “It’s okay,” she said, holding still. “Can I pet you?”

  The wolf flinched, eyed her skeptically, and then sniffed at her hand. The canine was huge. Much bigger than she’d realized at first. Rain drizzled over its fur, making the dark strands around its face stick out.

  Those stunning blue eyes held her captive. She couldn’t look away.

  As gently as she could, she brushed her hand over his head. It was a shadow of a touch over his fur. Something deep in her heart tugg
ed when his thick wolfy lashes fluttered closed and he lowered his head into her hand.

  “Aww, see?” she purred, stroking his silky soft fur. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You can come out.”

  As he emerged, she rubbed rain out of her eyes. In that split second, the wolf disappeared. Ryder stood in his place, dressed in nothing but a pair of dark-washed jeans that hung low on his waist. As he outstretched his arms for her to fill them, streams of moonlight shone off his abs.

  “It’s only me, baby.”

  “I don’t know you,” she heard herself say. “How can I trust you?”

  Thickly corded muscle twitched and flexed as he stepped closer. “You have to trust the connection between us. I know you can feel it.” His gravelly voice rumbled the air between them like thunder. She shivered down to the core. “If you don’t let me hold you for the rest of your life, I’ll die the loneliest man anyone ever knew.”

  With an ache in her heart, she slid into his embrace and wrapped her arms around him. His skin was soft against her cheek. Beneath that though, he was rugged. Hard as steel.

  “I’m strong enough to be the man you need,” he said. “And I swear I won’t ever hurt you.”

  “I know you won’t.” The words tumbled out of her, but to her surprise, she meant them.

  “We’re fated to be together.” He held her tightly, her head cradled against his chest. His heartbeat thumped against her ear, soothing away any traces of anxiety or fear that might’ve been harbored there. “You don’t need to look any further. You’re mine. I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

  Her heart fluttered with happiness. “I’m yours.”

  And she meant it. She’d said it when they were about to make love in the closet. Even now, after she knew about his lies, his secret abilities, she was no less certain. Her heart beat true for him.

  “I’m yours,” she repeated, relishing the warm glow that radiated through her. “Eternally.”

  She was still saying the final word when her cell phone went off on the bedside table. Shielding her eyes from the rays of cornea-piercing sunlight, Josie reached over and fumbled for her phone. Without glancing at the number, she answered.