Lycan Lover

by S. K. Yule

  After a few minutes, she lost hope of anyone coming along and picked up her pace. As she crossed a side street and hopped over the curb back onto the sidewalk, she noticed that the other side of the street was lined with black wrought-iron fence. The fence enclosed the old Hampton Cemetery, and she shivered a little. If it was daytime or she wasn’t alone, she wouldn’t give a second thought to such a thing as she found the cemetery a spectacular sight. But, at almost exactly the same time she had noticed the graveyard, that familiar, eerie feeling from earlier slid up her backbone, the feeling that she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she halted.

  She tried to ignore the feeling, but it wouldn’t subside. In fact, if anything it intensified, encouraged small knots to form in her stomach. She didn’t understand why a place that she found fascinating would create such a feeling of fright in her. Most of the headstones in the cemetery dated back hundreds of years, and its crypts were historical wonders. Even though the bodies that used to reside in the crypts had been moved, the small rooms still remained. None had doors any longer and the small tombs were made of stone and consisted of two concrete shelves on one wall that had, at one time, served as final resting places.

  Trying to become invisible, she shrank back against the wall of the building into the shadows and listened carefully while scanning her surroundings, barely breathing. She didn’t hear or see anything. In fact, she didn’t see anyone. There was always someone out and about at all times of the day and night in the city. She could hear no traffic, no people, no insects, nothing. The fog curled thicker and drifted around her knees. The night was completely still—too still—calm-before-the-storm kind of still.

  Suddenly, gut wrenching instinct screamed at her to get out of there. She wanted to run, but for some unknown reason, she knew that would be a huge mistake. She felt like the poor baby zebra on all those nature shows that was being picked off by the lions as the weak one of the herd. Even though she couldn’t see her stalker, she knew he was there, yet she had no intention of being his next meal. Fear clawed its way through her stomach, knotted it harder, and bile burned the back of her throat. She fought hard not to panic.

  She inched a few more feet down the sidewalk, back against the rough stone of the building. She tried to move silently, but every scrape of her coat against the surface seemed amplified in the silence. She still saw nothing that posed a threat, but her inner alarms were screeching, and she wasn’t one to ignore them. She only made it a few more steps before she stopped and stared across the street.

  A huge oak tree stood just inside the black iron fence. It had to be fifteen or twenty feet in girth and the dense branches curled like gnarled fingers with foliage for fingernails. She stared at it, not sure why. Suddenly, another shiver jolted her and she knew she’d been right. Someone was watching, her and even though she couldn’t see who it was, she was sure he was near the tree. And, damn her luck. Nearly Halloween, alone on a foggy street, with somebody watching her, and a full moon peeked through the clouds.

  * * * *

  He didn’t know if it was amusement or astonishment, maybe a little of both, that he felt when she stared across the street. She knew he was there. He’d been watching her for months, and for the first time, she gave a sign that she was aware of his presence. Maybe the dance they’d shared earlier had something to do with her newfound awareness of him.

  He’d invaded her dreams and followed her, waiting until it was the perfect time to claim her. She was his and he would have her. Yet, he didn’t want to hurt or scare her. He knew he could do both without even meaning to, and she was terrified. The fear rolled off her in waves. He could smell it, and he didn’t understand the reason for it.

  He watched her, his body taut, ready to defend his mate against whatever was scaring the hell out of her. The predator in him was in hunt mode. He knew that even though she was staring at the tree he was presently occupying, he was not the source of her fear. A gentle breeze stirred the uncannily still night, and another scent invaded him, revealing the source of threat. His lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl as he scanned the area. He knew what had her so upset.

  Another of his kind was in the area and too close to his woman. He didn’t know if the other werewolf was aware of his presence, but he knew damn well he would rip the bastard to pieces if he got any closer. Every instinct screamed for him to snatch Karen off the street and take her somewhere that he could keep her safe and protected always, but instinct and his desire to meet his mate’s needs warred with one another. Karen would definitely not be impressed by caveman tactics, and he wanted her to trust him.

  When he had discovered her nearly a year ago, he had wanted to claim her right then and there, but found out about her pact to stay single for a while after the last jerk she’d dated cheated on her. He wanted to rip the bastard’s head off and found it very hard to contain his protective instincts where she was concerned. He had been born in a time when men owned their mates and, as they saw fit, provided for and protected them. That was a long time ago, and things were different. Women were different, independent. None of it really mattered anyway, because he had never had a mate until now.

  He’d had other women over the years, but not one had meant anything to him other than a means to assuage his body’s needs. His kind was fated to have one mate, but he’d just about given up ever finding his until that one night nearly a year ago when he’d caught the sweetest scent he’d ever smelled. His body knew immediately that she was his, and he was drawn to her like a helpless flower to the sun, straining ever closer toward the life sustaining brightness and warmth she offered. His life would never be fulfilled or complete without her. He’d never be able to live away from her again, and he was glad she had taken a break from dating because he sure as hell would never let another man touch her ever again.

  He wanted her well-being over everything else, and that was the one thing keeping his medieval instincts in check. He took another deep breath and the scent of the other lycan was stronger, closer. His fingernails lengthened and curled into six-inch claws that would rend skin and muscle off the bone with minimal effort. He was ancient and was able to partly change without becoming a full-out lycan. Younger werewolves had to learn to master such a feat. He sniffed the air again. And, the other werewolf he was scenting was very young. He knew that meant he would most likely be foolish too.

  He remained motionless on the tree branch, watching Karen intently, praying that their second meeting would be peaceful, but that prayer was doused with ice water when he saw the shadow round the corner of the building she was standing in front of. He growled and felt his fangs pop from his gums as he launched from the tree. With one smooth jump, he landed silently and crouched across the street and on the sidewalk between Karen and the other lycan. He was glad his back was to her because he didn’t want to see the horror that would undoubtedly be reflected in her eyes. After all, he knew no human who could jump a hundred fifty feet in the blink of an eye.

  The younger lycan stopped and, emitting low growls and sniffing the air, stared at him. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you, pup.” Lycans could smell all potential human mates in general, but only the destined lycan mate could smell the unique pheromone given off by the one fated to him. Unfortunately, this led many idiot pups to believe that any woman carrying the main scent was theirs for the taking when, in fact, it was there so his kind could protect potential mates. He didn’t understand why the young werewolves acted in such a matter. Any dishonorable act against a human mate by a lycan who was not the destined partner was punishable by death.

  “Why shouldn’t I try it? I can smell her, and she’s calling my name.”

  He curled and uncurled his claws, savoring the possible kill. “Yeah, and since you can smell her, you can also tell she is not meant for you. She’s mine and I’m much older than you, pup. If I were you, I’d tuck my tail and run before I decide to not let you run at all, ever again.” He knew the pup
finally realized that he was partly changed and that he would lose this fight one way or the other by the way the younger lycan glanced at his claws. Fear, however momentary, however cleverly hidden, clouded startled eyes, and Anthony hadn’t missed it.

  The pup raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, but Anthony didn’t like the way the bastard leered at him while retreating, brows drawn down in assessment as if devising a plan of vengeance. He didn’t take his eyes off him until he disappeared and his scent was but a mere memory fading in the gentle breeze. He straightened and, taking a deep breath, willed his human form to take back over completely, his fangs and claws to recede, before he turned to face Karen.

  Chapter Three

  Karen couldn’t move. First, she’d been terrified for no reason that she could explain. Then, one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen had walked around the corner of the building and stopped dead in front of her, staring. Even though he looked to be in his mid-twenties, he seemed far older. His hair had been the color of honey and straw and his eyes, icy hazel. He was big, and he’d scared her—again, for no explainable reason other than he was huge and it was the middle of the night and she was alone. Before she had time to decide on a plan of action, from out of nowhere, another man had been crouching in front of her. His back remained to her, even after the blond man left.

  The fear she’d been feeling slowly dissipated as soon as the other man leaped between her and the blond man, even though rational thought demanded an explanation on how he’d gotten in that position. She’d never seen another human being jump as far or as silently as this man had. He reminded her of a wild animal, and was even bigger than Hazel Eyes. His back was broad and tapered to a neat waist and long legs. He was tall. From what she could see, he had midnight black hair and a rock-hard ass to die for. Wait a minute. She knew exactly who this man was. Waiting for him to turn around she held her breath, and when he did, all the air left her lungs in a whoosh.

  She felt dizzy for a brief moment and was very happy the wall was still behind her for support because she had just come face-to-face with her dream man once again. The lights in the club had been so dim earlier that she had not been able to see the full beauty of his features. Now, they were highlighted by the light of the full moon popping through the clouds. His green eyes nearly glowed and were perfectly framed by dark brows and thick-as-sin lashes. His nose was straight, his lips full, and his jaw perfectly squared with just the right amount of softness. The softness was just enough to give the pretense that this man was easy and laid-back, approachable. She knew better. If he was like her dreams, he was anything but soft. He was always careful with her and had never hurt her, but in every dream, he’d been a pure, dominant, predatory man.

  After her stunned brain began functioning normal once again, her fight or flight instincts kicked back in. She still wasn’t afraid of him, but something deep inside her screamed at her to run—that if she didn’t, this man would change her life forever. Some part of her knew he could expose all her deep dark secrets, possess her, and break her heart. Another part of her begged to stay.

  “Don’t run.”

  Her blue eyes snapped to his face and he groaned. “Wh-who are you?” She inched further away from him. If she could just get another foot away, she’d be at the side street she had passed earlier. She might be able to lose him down it. She was a fast runner, but she would need every advantage to outrun this man.

  “I’m Anthony Wolfson, and you are Karen Samson. Now that we have that out of the way, maybe we can go somewhere and talk a little.”

  “How did you know my name?” She thought for a moment. “I didn’t tell you in the club.” She was getting more alarmed and inched her way closer to the alley. He hadn’t moved since he’d turned to face her, and within seconds, her hand reached the corner of the building.

  “I’m not going to hurt you Karen, I promise. If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already. I just want to talk to you, okay?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Please, Karen, don’t run. I don’t want to scare you, but if you run, I will chase you.” His green eyes snapped open, and she pulled a harsh breath into her lungs. “And, Karen, I’ll catch you.”

  She could see his muscles tense through his dark blue T-shirt and knew it was time to make her escape. She kicked her stilettos off and bolted around the corner, running as fast as she could, pumping her arms for extra speed. The growl she heard behind her an instant after she fled fueled her adrenaline into giving her even more speed. He was chasing her. She swore that she could feel his hot breath on her neck and her heart nearly beat out of her chest. Her breath came in ragged pants, and before she made it more than halfway down the alley, she was tackled from behind, picked up and pushed face first against the brick wall.

  She gasped for air, and Anthony’s hard body pressed against her, around her. He wasn’t hurting her, but he held her firmly, allowing no movement. She could feel his arousal against her back and moaned. Her body’s wants began to override her fear, and she pushed back into him. She didn’t know why, he was a stranger, but she wanted him. His sandalwood and musky male scent invaded her, excited her, and her fear melted completely away.

  He held her hands above her head palm down against the building. His fingers circled each of her delicate wrists. She pressed back into his hard body, and he sucked in a breath and held it for a moment before putting his mouth close to her ear. “I told you not to run.”

  “Yeah, but I had to. You were scaring me.” That wasn’t entirely true, but she had no intention of letting him know that he was turning her on. In truth, he was doing much more than turning her on. He was setting her on fire, and she knew she was going to let him do whatever he wanted.

  He groaned as she pushed back against his cock once again. He was steely hard and nudged her back with an urgent thrust of his hips. She moaned and his control snapped. She thought she would die of pleasure when his mouth came down on her neck and he kissed and licked the sensitive skin under her ear. He forced her hands together, gripped them both with one of his to free the other to slip into her hair, twined some strands around his fingers, and pulled her head around so he could capture her lips with his own.

  She moaned when his tongue slipped inside her mouth. The low growl he emitted vibrated through her and curled her toes. His tongue dueled with hers, teasing, sucking, tasting. She had never been kissed like this, well except for in her dreams. But this was the same man, after all. She savored his taste, and God, he tasted like sin and everything bad a girl ever wanted but knew she shouldn’t have.

  He let out another low growl when she ground her ass harder against his groin. He yanked her coat off her shoulders, let it drop to the ground, and slid his hand around her waist and up under the tight bustier, grazing the soft skin of her belly before cupping one breast through the lace of her bra. Her nipple hardened in his palm, and he rolled it between his fingers while he continued to ravish her mouth, which wrought tiny gasps from her.

  His touch coaxed her body higher, hotter, wetter. The possession of his mouth and his rough fingers on her nipple had her teetering on the edge of orgasm. Suddenly, her hands were free and she was spun around, staring into the face of her dream man once again. Her back hit the bricks, and a ripping material echoed through the alley as he tore the bustier and bra open, spilling her breasts out. The cool breeze blew across her sensitive nipples tightening them even more. Suddenly, rational thinking rushed back into her brain and she tried to pull free from him.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “No. Please let me go. I can’t do this.” What the hell had she been doing? She was acting like she was in heat with a man she had never even met. And, God help her, she still wanted him. Her body burned for him, her knees weak with need.

  “I can’t let you go, Karen. Not ever again. Stop thinking and just feel. You know this is right. I know you do.” He put his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. He breathed deep and whispered between clenched teeth,
“Please don’t fight me, Karen. It’s . . . exciting to me.”

  The meaning of his words sparked heat to burn deep in her belly. The fact that her struggle was exciting him should have turned her cold with dread, yet it felt so damn right it scared her because this couldn’t be normal. One couldn’t just come across a strange man in the street and know that this was going to happen and that it didn’t matter if you’d just met because it was . . . fated.

  Fated. That’s what it felt like, but did she believe in such a thing? She stared at his beautiful face, and suddenly, his eyes opened and she was drowning in green seas. His stare was so intense she couldn’t breathe. She knew he was staring straight into her soul.. Every thought, every desire that lived there lay open like a book for him to read.

  “Anthony, I don’t understand.” Her breathless plea was laced with confusion and desire.

  “Trust me, Karen. This is right and you know it.” He rubbed his cheek against her face before bending to cover the pink tip of one nipple with his mouth. Her shock was short lived as he pulled her deep into his mouth, and rolled his tongue around the peak over and over before doing the same to the other taut bud. Her knees nearly buckled and her skin turned hot. She felt achy, needy.