Under An Alaskan Moon: A Shifter Romance

by Scarlett McLeod

  CHAPTER eleven

  Faye’s neck popped painfully as she straightened it. Sleepily, she blinked her eyes. Confused for a moment, she glanced at her surroundings. Her back groaned as she sat up straight from where she had been leaning against the base of the recliner. She was in the living room. The fire was dead in the fireplace, and outside, snow sifted to the ground with a hiss. The ground was still warm enough that snow practically melted as it touched the surface.

  “What a weird dream.” She yawned.

  She looked down at her lap as the sound of a snore reached her ears. Tangled hair lay spread across her lap, and two large arms circled tightly around her waist.

  “Aw hell,” she muttered as she looked down at the man curled around her like she was his favorite pillow.

  “Why couldn’t you just be a dream?” She groaned, trying to figure out a way to move without waking him up.

  She eased out from under his head, sliding a throw pillow where she had been. He was reluctant to let go of her. Faye had to pry his arms from around her waist.

  Her back hurt from the movement.

  She glanced down again at the man and frowned, taking note of his shallow breathing and the bruises mottling his body. Gingerly, she squatted down next to him, feeling her knees pop several times. It sounded like gunfire.

  As she pressed her hand to his forehead, her eyes widened.

  “You’re burning up,” she muttered as she stroked down the guy’s face. “But, then again, don’t canines run at a higher temperature than humans? I mean, you’re a dog after all.”

  Faye giggled somewhat hysterically and then sealed her lips shut.

  She was acting like a crazy person, she thought. Okay, so maybe she was in a little bit of shock from last night, but talking to a sleeping wolf-man was just inexcusable.

  With a snort, she straightened herself and went to start breakfast, wondering if the naked man under the blanket on her bearskin rug would eat anything other than raw meat. She mentally gagged. Well, that was the only thing he had been eating. And her chicken!

  Faye froze.

  He ate her chicken!

  She glared over her shoulder at the lump on the floor that was too much beard and hair and attractive man. With a sigh, she left him there with toast in the oven to feed the chickens.

  When she walked back through the door, she froze.

  He was gone.

  “Okay,” she said loudly, peering around cautiously, “so not funny, wolf-man. Where are you?”

  Her bedroom door burst open and he stood, albeit on shaky limbs, clutching the door jamb, a frantic look on his face.

  And stark naked.

  Faye was fairly sure her mouth was gaping as she realized this. Then, she snapped her mouth shut so hard her jaw ached and focused her eyes somewhere on the exposed wooden rafters of her home.

  He grunted, and her eyes flew back to him as he took an unsteady step forward. His face twisted in pain. His mouth moved and Faye realized he was trying to speak.

  “G-gone?”

  Faye squinted at him. She was pretty sure she looked like an idiot as she tried to make out what he said through the thick Irish brogue.

  “You gone?”

  Faye shook her head and turned to close the door behind her.

  Faye shook her head and turned to close the door behind her. When she turned back around, her eyes met male chest, focusing against her will on a little brown nipple on his right pec. How had he moved so silently? His chest was thin, his ribs poking out, but it was a nice chest all the same. Don't forget male. And that nipple was close enough she could stick out her tongue and lick it.

  No! Bad! Bad, bad, bad!, she reprimanded herself.

  Then his arms wrapped around her and yanked her into his body. Her eyes were about to pop out of her head. Faye held her arms straight away from all that bare skin and away from his body.

  “Lord Jesus, please have mercy,” she mentally screamed.

  The strange wolf-man nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her as he mumbled, “No go.”

  “Clothes!” Faye gasped. “Need clothes now!”

  She awkwardly pushed him off of her then caught his arm as he swayed unsteadily. She noticed his eyes were unnaturally bright.

  So his high temperature wasn’t just a canine thing, she thought. “You’re sick,” she said, shaking her finger at him, “and you ate my chicken!”

  He hung his head like a scolded puppy and whined.

  “Stop that,” snapped Faye. “I should kick you out right now.”

  Colin’s eyes grew wide with fear. She couldn’t kick him out! Where would he go? He didn’t want to change back to his wolf form yet; still afraid he would be stuck that way again. He shook his head frantically, his hair flying around his face. He couldn’t leave his Promise. He had just found her!

  Faye continued her ranting. “God, you-you freaking turned into a man. Where’s my wolf?”

  Colin clasped his hand to his head, trying to hold it still so the room would stop spinning. His legs felt like jell-o, and he desperately wanted to sit down now that he knew Faye had not left him like he thought when he woke up and she wasn’t beside him. He pointed his finger at himself and said, “Here.”

  Faye grumbled under her breath and moved him back to sit on the bearskin rug before he passed out.

  “Stay,” she commanded, and with that tone, Colin couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.

  He weaved slowly and then toppled over with a groan. His eyes closed as he pawed at the blanket, wrapping himself in it.

  Why was he so cold?

  Faye marched out of the bedroom with a pair of boxers and a pair of sweatpants that had been her father’s. It had only taken a minute for her to dig them out from the large trunk where she kept her father’s things.

  The wolf-man was curled on his side, his brow furrowed as he shivered under the thick blanket she had given him last night. He was wrapped up like a burrito. She regarded him worriedly before kneeling beside him and shaking his shoulder gently.

  “Hey,” she said softly, “I have some clothes for you. Can you put them on?”

  He opened his eyes, and his long body straightened out as he nodded, still shivering.

  Faye handed him the clothes and stood watching as he tried to reach his feet. It obviously hurt. Gritting her teeth, Faye helped him get the boxers and sweats and then turned her back, ignoring the urge to watch him dress.

  With a start, Faye saw wisps of smoke coming from the oven and shrieked. A loud whine made her look back. The half-naked man sitting on the floor behind her had his hands clamped over his ears as he pouted adorably up at her; his sensitive ears were ringing from her scream.

  “I need a toaster,” grumbled Faye.

  She rescued the toast that was a little crispier than she liked and poured some milk over wolf-man’s piece. When she knelt down by him again, he clutched at her hips, his grip iron-like despite the fact that he was sick.

  “Stop,” said Faye, her voice softening as she saw how miserable he was. “You need to eat and get your strength back.”

  She helped him sit and lean against the recliner, and when he was finally propped up with his eyes half-shut, she offered him food.

  As she sopped up the last bit of milk with the toast, she asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Colin,” he murmured, his hand on her forearm as she fed him. “Wolfie.”

  “Colin,” she said, blushing at the name she gave his fur side.”My name is—.”

  “F-Faye,” he said with a soft smile, proud of himself for saying her name finally.

  And as he looked up at her with his big golden eyes, just like Wolfie’s, a lazy smile barely quirking his lips, Faye couldn’t help but smile back down at him as his eyes slowly drifted close, his hand clasping hers to his chest like a child.

  CHAPTER twelve

  When Colin woke, the sun was already high in the sky. His eyes were crusty from sleep as he slowly blinked them open to stare at the
rafters above. A clatter from the kitchen made him whip his head. He saw Faye softly humming as she swayed her hips. He relaxed from his rigid posture as he watched her dance.

  Mesmerized, he slowly sat up and leaned against the leather recliner, careful of his bruised ribs. “Òch,” he hissed as he straightened his back.

  Faye turned to him. “Ah,” she said. “You're finally awake.”

  Biting down any nervousness she felt, Faye set the breakfast down on the table and carefully prepared the wolf-man, or Colin, a plate. Avoiding eye contact, she set the plate down beside him on the floor.

  “Eat,” she commanded, “then you will answer a few of my questions.”

  Colin obediently ate, the taste of eggs, toast, and strawberry jam strange on his tongue after so many years. He vaguely remembered eating the milk and bread the night before.

  He paused.

  Was it the night before? Somehow, he had a feeling it had been longer. Clearing his throat, he searched for words, growing frustrated as he garbled them up. It all sounded right in his head, but the message was twisted, missing words, or out of order by the time it reached his mouth.

  But, somehow, Faye understood him. She turned and came to sit by him in front of the toasty warm fire, leaving the breakfast dishes in the sink.

  “You've been out of it for about three days,” she informed him kindly, staring into the flames as she stretched her legs out.

  The blanket Colin had wrapped around his waist suddenly seemed too hot as he pushed it off. He couldn't remember anything beyond her feeding him after what he guessed was the first morning. Or was it night? He was pulled back out of his thoughts as a gentle hand rested on his arm.

  “You alright?”

  Faye's voice reached his ears, and he heard then concern there

  . He jerked his head in the affirmative, nearly howling with unhappiness as she removed her hand. She pulled her knees to her chest, her blonde hair piled high on her head in a bun that wobbled precariously every time she moved. Then she looked at him, her big green eyes firm yet understanding.

  “How?”

  It was only one question. But Colin, even with the massive amount of time spent in his fur, felt the massiveness of the situation. This conversation could destroy everything or lead to something more. How indeed?

  He pointed to himself, his voice scratchy from lack of use, and gruffed. “I am wolf and man,” he said slowly, pronouncing the words with precision.

  Faye nodded. “So I didn't just have a crazy hallucination where my pet wolf turned into a man in my living room.” She snorted. “Nice to know.”

  Colin winced at the sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Sorry,” he said softly.

  She shook her head, and after a moment of silence, said, “I was really worried last night. You were very sick. And I couldn't take you to the hospital because I didn't know what kind of crazy shit they would document about you. You're not normal.”

  That was the understatement of the century. Colin hung his head and whispered, “Sorry.”

  “Stop saying that,” muttered Faye.

  She turned to face him and asked, “Where did you come from? And why are you here?”

  Colin fumbled for a response and finally said, “Montana I come. No-no.” He paused and said, “I come from Montana.”

  Faye looked flabbergasted. “How on earth are you all the way in Alaska?”

  Colin cocked his head at her and answered simply, “I ran.”

  “Across Canada? Why?” asked Faye. “Why are you here? Why did you pretend to be my pet? I don't get it.”

  And so, in broken English, Colin told her. He spoke sadly about his parents and siblings, sometimes wandering off into Gaelic.

  Faye listened patiently, eyes wide in amazement. He was a werewolf. Or as he referred to himself, a shifter. And there were more of them. She felt like she should be screaming from the rooftops. But she couldn’t; she had witnessed Colin change forms in front of her.

  “So you basically just ran away,” she said as she rubbed her hands on her forehead.

  Colin shrugged, his head feeling like it would explode. Emotions were a lot different in his skin. The fur side felt the strong ones like love, hatred, and pain. His skin side came with the little nuances of every emotion, and he was overwhelmed.

  With Faye so near, not only was he dealing with his family's betrayal and his loss of them, but he was also trying to comprehend his various feelings for her.

  With the way she looked, all rumpled and homey in her sweats and white sweater, like she had just rolled out of bed, and not to mention the way she smelled, he felt dizzy.

  Lust would be the proper term, he thought.

  He was definitely feeling lust. And wolf admiration. It was animal instinct, primitive in nature but devoted all the same. His Heat was coming. A surge of panic rose.

  He remembered seeing his brother David struggle with the Heat. His Chosen was human, just like Faye, and had wanted to wait until her family had given their blessing. And they had, but David had spent a week in the cellar beside Colin's cell. It hadn't been pretty, but it was necessary. Heat began for both male and female, if both were shifters, a few weeks or even days after meeting. It was different for every couple. A human Promise would not go through the Heat. Taking a Chosen One by force was out of the question.

  Faye continued talking, but it became a buzz in his ears as he inwardly crumpled. She wasn't ready. He knew that. It didn't matter that his body or his soul was ready for her. She wasn't. He had to leave before his Heat came. He couldn't risk giving in to the carnal desires of his fur side.

  He shook his head to clear his thoughts and closed his eyes. With a low groan, he eased himself down and tugged on Faye's hands.

  She stopped talking, and he knew she was watching him intently. Finally, she gave in to his pulls and lowered her hands, letting her legs fall to the floor. With a satisfied grunt that Faye decided sounded way too sexy for her own good, he laid his head across her thighs and curled his arm around her waist.

  Faye rolled her eyes at what she was beginning to realize must be his favorite place to sleep—her lap. “Hey,” she growled, pushing him half-heartedly. “You can't just sleep on me. We weren't done talking.”

  A couple of beats of silence later, she heard a soft snore. She threw her hands up in the air in defeat. “Fine.” She sighed and combed his hair with her fingers.

  Then she frowned. “You need a haircut, Wolfie,” she murmured.

  A happy little whine came from the sleepy man-child who was cuddling her like his life depended on it.

  Faye chuckled. He really was wolf and man.

  CHAPTER thirteen

  “I've got to go to work,” reiterated Faye for the third time that morning as she pulled on her jacket.

  “But why?” whined Colin, also for the third time. He had a frown on his face.

  Faye glared at him in exasperation and said, “Oh, I don't know, maybe because I have to buy food and pay bills, and to do that, I have to have money.”

  She buttoned up her jacket and cast another glance over her shoulder at the man pouting behind her. He was wearing nothing but another pair of her dad's sweatpants. His feet were bare, and his honey-brown hair tumbled down around his shoulders. Faye mourned having to go to work and leaving such a sexy man at home. He was positively delicious. She shook her head, mentally slapping herself.

  Should she really leave him home alone? She didn't really have a choice, she guessed. He wouldn't change back. When she had hesitantly brought it up, he shook his head fearfully, his eyes wide. She couldn't take a man to work like she could Wolfie.

  From what he said, Faye knew he had been basically stuck in his fur form, as he called it, and was afraid to change because of that. She wondered how long he had not been able to shift.

  She smiled at him as he shuffled his feet on the floor, his head ducked. She stepped closer to him, stuffing her gloves in her pocket.

  “Colin,” she said softly. />
  His head jerked up, and his golden eyes locked on hers, startling her with their intensity. She smiled again, regaining her composure and said, “I'll be home soon, okay? I left you a steak in the fridge. You can heat it up in the oven for lunch.”

  He whined and shifted from one foot to the next, and Faye nearly melted at his cuteness.

  “Wolfie,” she tried, testing out the name that stood for the other half of him.

  His eyes widened, gold completely taking over his pupils, and his nostrils flared. He smiled eagerly as he bent his head, resting it on her shoulder, and nuzzled her neck. Faye giggled at the feeling of his beard tickling her skin. She felt his lips quirk up in a smile.

  Then slowly, his arms wrapped around her tightly. Faye ran her hands up his naked back, trying to ignore how much she enjoyed the feeling of his warm skin under her fingertips. Why did she have to go to work again?

  Oh yes, bills and food. We need food, she thought.

  She couldn't get home soon enough.

  She wasn't at all sure why Colin was still there in her cabin. Or what his purpose was. But she knew he was attached to her, whether due to just his fur side or not. And if that meant she had a sexy man to ogle for a little while longer before reality kicked in and she had to make him answer, she was down for that. From the way he acted, Faye was pretty sure he was not planning on leaving any time soon. She wasn't so sure how she felt about that.

  At least he could stay for a little while longer. What could it hurt?

  “I'll be back soon,” she said, smiling.

  From the kitchen window, Colin watched her drive away a few minutes later and then moved to find some more clothes. Faye had shown him the trunk with her father's things and told him to take what he liked. So he did, casting a longing look at Faye's bed as he passed. Shaking his head, he got dressed. Then he planned to chop some firewood outside. The wood pile outside the door was getting low, and Faye liked having a fire on cold nights. The shoes he found were a bit snug on his feet, but he could make them work. The rest of the man's clothes fit Colin in his emaciated state.