by Dawn Steele
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to take all my clothes off.”
She suddenly blushes. She quickly turns around to face the other side.
He laughs. “It’s OK. You’re going to be seeing plenty of me anyway. But here, we don’t have to hide who we are.”
She understands what he is about to do. Her cheeks burning furiously, she gives him his privacy as he undresses.
“Can you put my clothes into your backpack?” he says.
“OK. Tell me when to look.”
His transition is almost soundless. And she knows he has transformed when a low growl punctures the air behind her.
She turns, sucking in her breath. And stares at the beautiful werewolf with green eyes which appears before her. His fur is honey gold in color and burnished in patches. He is sleek and lean as he stands on his powerful legs. He is far larger than a wolf, though not as large as Jared’s panther.
She stares at him for a long time, afraid to move.
Then:
Why should I be afraid of him? He is very much in control of his bestial side.
Taking a tentative step forward, she moves to retrieve his clothes from the ground. Jeans. Plaid shirt. He doesn’t wear underwear.
He watches her patiently as she folds his clothes neatly and stuffs them into her backpack. Then she goes to him. Her hand reaches out and touches his shining fur in wonder. It is like petting a wild lion – at any time, you’re afraid he would turn around and rip your hand off. At her soft touch, a deep rumble crosses his chest, and the vibrations travel to her flesh, causing strange sensations to ripple within her.
Get on, he seems to say.
She has ridden Jared plenty of times before, and this is no different. She is an expert in mounting shapeshifters when they are in their animal form now. She slings her backpack behind her and straps it firmly to her body. Then she grabs his fur and mounts him with some difficulty.
Once she is upon his broad back, he begins to gait. He ascertains that she is holding hard onto his fur before he picks up the pace. She straddles his broad back, gripping him hard with her thighs. The sensation that goes through her legs is almost sexual.
He speeds up. Soon, they are racing through the forest, past the dark trees with their autumn haloes and up, up into the hills. The wind whips her face and tears her hair backwards. The exhilaration courses in her veins as his legs pump back and forth. She can feel his power surging within her. Her heart beats with a rapid thud-thud-thud that pound in her ears.
After about twenty minutes, they are out of the forest and traversing the foothills of the ridge. The view is incredible. The ridge is verdant, despite being named blue, and dotted with trees as far as the eye can see. Here, the air is crisp and sweet. She is glad she brought her jacket to keep her warm because it is beginning to be really cold.
He slows down as they come to the pass. It is a thin valley between two of the hills in the ridge. The grass of the valley is a deep green and speckled with yellow flowers. Everything is fresh and scented with pine.
She can hardly feel her cheeks and hands now – they are so cold in the wind. The werewolf canters to a halt, and when he finally stops, it takes her a while to uncramp her limbs so that she can slide off his back and onto the lush, carpeted ground.
“God, that was amazing,” she breathes.
He is panting and his mouth is open to let out the heat. She throws herself down on the ground to rest. Her legs are wobbly. Shivering, she draws her jacket tightly around her and buries her hands in it.
Before her eyes, he metamorphoses. His large form shrinks and his four legs become two arms and two human legs. His fur vanishes, and in its place is bare skin. His head is bowed. He looks up, and his eyes are a brilliant green against the lush grass.
He is also naked, and he makes no attempt to conceal his impressive erection. Shapeshifters are always horny after a transformation, she knows. But she also knows he would not force himself on her.
He smiles a heavenly smile, and she can’t help smiling back. She knows what he is thinking.
As nature intended.
“Liked that?” he says.
“I’ve had better,” she teases.
He laughs. “As if. Where are my clothes?”
She blushes to see his cock – which is rearing up to point at her.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says. “It’s always hard after a run. Though . . . ”
He pauses pointedly.
She quickly hides her face as she reaches into her backpack for his clothes. He takes them from her.
After he has dressed, they lie together and stare into the blue sky.
“No rain,” she says.
“Don’t count your chickens.”
“Do you hunt?”
He is very close to her, and if she stretches out her arm, she would touch his bicep.
“Sometimes. We hunt rabbits and the like. Small plentiful animals, mostly. Nothing protected.”
“My brother likewise.”
“You didn’t tell me the whole story of how you really escaped from Conchita Ruiz, did you? Your brother in his shifter form has something to do with it.”
“Yes.”
“As much as we can, we try not to be conspicuous to the normal townsfolk. Not many people outside our community know we exist.”
“The witches certainly do.”
He smiles. “Magical creatures tend to flock together. Or else they are at war.”
“How do you intend to resolve your feud with the Walker family?”
“It hasn’t been resolved for over a hundred years. What makes you think I will be the one to resolve it?”
He shakes his head.
“It isn’t easy being the alpha of this clan. My younger cousins are nipping at my heels, and yet I know I cannot cede my position to them, or else my own immediate family and everyone else will suffer. My cousins are not matured enough to understand the consequences of an all-out war against other shifter clans and the witches. They are more feral, and they are itching at the bait to fight. I can’t allow that to happen. The only way I can do that is to maintain control, as much as I don’t want the job.”
“You have no one else to pass the mantle to?”
“Not yet. The eldest of my cousins is Bob, and he has been trying to challenge me of late. He has been trying to provoke me into a fight. I can see that happening one day. He thinks I’m too diplomatic to be an alpha, and the younger ones are agreeing with him.”
Shannon remembers the pack of werewolves who were advancing towards Jared.
“If Bob had his way, he would rip your brother apart,” Kirk says meaningfully. “I won’t allow that to happen.”
“I know.” The thought of having so many enemies around them is sobering. Would they ever find peace? Or is that wishful thinking on her part?
“If you fight Bob, what’s going to happen?” she asks, suddenly fearful for Kirk.
“Right now, I am still stronger on account of my age and skills. But Bob is rapidly catching up. I have to be better, stronger to maintain the status quo. It isn’t easy. I’m growing older. Pretty soon, I’ll be thirty. My brother was a very aggressive alpha. He kept his rule easily enough among us, but his natural aggression led him to challenge the other clans as well, including the witch clans. I don’t think that is the right course. But I fear more of my cousins are becoming restless with my rule, and soon, there will be an explosion.”
She doesn’t say anything, thinking of what he must be going through.
He goes on, “Being the alpha of my clan goes against everything I am. My role in life is as a healer, not a fighter. Every day, I struggle with this divide within myself.” He laughs softly. “It’s like having a split personality.”
“Were you always a werewolf?”
“We come into our heritage when we hit puberty. My family always had the gene as far as their genealogy can be traced. The girls become more subdued when they have their firs
tborn and the need to transform gets less and less, and that is why so many of my sisters opt to have their families early.”
She gazes at his perfect profile. He is looking up at the scudding clouds wistfully. She knows he is thinking about anything and everything – about being shoved into a role he does not crave.
Then she thinks about Lucien. He too is being shoved into a role he does not wish to be in.
But he is not protesting too hard, is he?
“Shannon?”
She turns to Kirk. His green eyes are sparkling with intelligence and empathy.
Wordlessly, he holds his hand out to her, and she takes it.
He says in a hoarse voice, “I’ve always resisted being with a woman because of who and what I am. But I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. I try not to . . . because you are my employee and you are in a vulnerable position right now. But I can’t help it. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
A pang shoots through her chest. She has been thinking about him since the first day she saw him, and trying not to think about him in any way but a professional one – especially when she was dating Lucien.
Is it wrong to desire two men at the same time? Two very different but gorgeous men – who happen to be in opposing camps?
His hand is a furnace, just as his body was when he held her in her bed.
“Shannon . . . ”
“Just hold me.”
She swallows a choke.
Swiftly, he crosses the short divide between their bodies. His long hair falls away from his face as his mouth seals itself upon hers. The passion seizes her loins and her entire body jerks in response to his touch. His mouth is like melted butter – hot and moist and sweet and mellow and delicious all at once.
They undress each other quickly. The wind chill is no longer a factor with his body radiating heat. She takes in the sight of his taut, lean muscles and the eight-pack on his abdomen. She knows that he didn’t get this body by working out in the gym. Like Jared, it is carved out from the running he does in his shape-shifted form.
He drinks in her mouth as though it is a font. Then he trails his teeth gently down her throat. She remembers how sharp his teeth were in his wolf form, and a delicious shudder ripples through her at the thought of how easily he can rend her flesh.
But he is so gentle – so wonderfully gentle – as he runs his tongue down the soft curve of her Adam’s apple, and then onto the depression between her collarbones. Then down, down to the soft swelling of her breasts. Her nipples are very engorged, and he takes her left one in between his teeth and bites down upon her flesh gently.
“Ohhhh,” she gasps.
He closes his mouth around her nipple and sucks with passion. With each suck, she can feel the upward tug on her groin, sending her clit into paroxysm of need. Intuiting this, his hand roams down her abdomen to her pussy, where his fingers bury into her pubic thatch. He parts her pussy lips and scissors her clit.
“Ohhhh!” She arches her back as the pleasure explodes in her clit. If she lets herself go, she will come in front of him right here.
His fingers dig into the grooves between her labia. She trashes her head left and right, trying to contain the violent pleasure into manageable proportions. He kneads her clit and ultra-sensitive grooves. His movements are firm and pressured, until finally, the need within her explodes with shocking intensity.
She screams her orgasm into the air.
But he is relentless. His hands continue to mock and tease her as his mouth and tongue make creative designs upon her hard nipples and breasts.
“I want to be inside you,” he whispers.
He turns from her body for a minute, and she feels the acute chill of the mountain air. But he is back, and his huge cock glistens with the sheath of a condom. She is already very wet. He positions his cock at the creaming aperture of her pussy and makes one swift thrust.
She gasps at the sudden penetration and expansion of her vaginal walls.
He lowers his body against hers – chest to chest, abdomen to abdomen – and starts to move. His beautiful face is above hers. His pupils are very dilated and his features are full of heavy meaning.
His breathing is ragged as he says, “I have to warn you something about us wolves.”
“What?” Her pants are coming out fast and short.
“When we mate . . . we mate for life.”
Her body is too consumed with pleasure for her to fully comprehend it. As they ride each other to their respective climaxes, the full meaning of what he said echoes in her skull like a clanging bell.
She has no idea then how propitious it would be.
THE CHALLENGE
It comes very close to Samhain.
Shannon has been going out openly with Kirk for the good part of two weeks now. Their newfound happiness is the talk of the clinic.
“You sly one, you!” Patty Kane punches her in the arm. “You’ve been holding out on the rest of us. First, Lucien Walker, the millionaire, and now Kirk Fitzpatrick. Did you know those are the two most eligible bachelors in this side of Oregon state? We want details! This is the first time the boss has ever dated anyone we actually know of.”
Shannon doesn’t think she should be giving away the details of her love life away to Patty, who would make sure the entire Dolphin’s Bay community knows about it by sundown.
Patty seems disappointed when she elects to demurely keep mum about it.
“At least he isn’t gay,” the nurse sniffs.
Shannon laughs. “But you were always trying to convince everyone else of the fact.”
“I know. And I now I know it’s because he hasn’t met the right woman.” There is a trace of envy in Patty’s voice, even though she is married with two kids. “Well, try to keep him in your sights, honey. There are plenty of women all lining up to take your place, if you know what I mean.”
Patty says this not as a threat but in the blunt, good-natured way in which she always says things. Shannon is used to her by now.
“Frankly,” Patty confesses, “I much prefer you dating Kirk than Lucien Walker. I’ve always had my suspicions about the Walkers.”
“I know . . . the fact they are witches and all.” Shannon rolls her eyes.
“Don’t laugh. It’s an open secret here. At least Kirk is an all-American boy without a single supernatural bone in his body.”
Shannon has to stop herself from laughing out loud.
Still, as Halloween approaches, she can’t help thinking more and more of Lucien. He has made no contact with her whatsoever, and that is only to be expected. He has been seen around town with his fiancée, Flora Janssen, who has been described as a pretty redhead. Very sophisticated, because she is from a big city. She has been seen in bridal shops trying out dresses and at cake shops selecting the largest wedding cake they can offer.
Shannon tries to shut her ears to such talk, but she can’t help overhearing things at the cafeteria because of her previous connection to him.
The nurses and attendants would be in the middle of a conversation.
“They say Flora Janssen is richer than even the Walkers.”
“I know. What a catch.”
“I think Lucien Walker is the catch. Though our seductive missy here isn’t doing badly at all with Kirk Fitzpatrick.”
“I know. What do you think the secret of her attraction is?”
“Big boobs on an anorexic waist?”
Laughter all around. When they notice her approaching with her lunch tray, they would hush up and plaster fake smiles on their faces. She has been nothing but nice as pie to everyone here, but Patty warned her that people may be jealous of her ability to attract seemingly unattainable men.
And then it happens.
Halloween is just around the corner, and the themes of the restaurants around town include pumpkin and fancy dresses. There are pumpkins everywhere. Carved pumpkins. Pumpkin soup. Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin butter. Even pumpkin flavored scrubs at the spa. Waitr
esses are dressed as sexy witches.
“Halloween here is bigger than I thought,” Shannon says.
Her arm is linked with Kirk’s. It is a Saturday night and Kirk has made reservations at an upscale restaurant called ‘Giovanni’s’. It is situated in a converted bungalow, and Shannon can’t help wondering if the place used to belong to the Walkers before they refurbished it and sold it on. Still, it isn’t possible to live in this town and not tread on a square foot that hasn’t come in contact with the Walkers somehow. She may as well get used to the fact.
It is already eight in the evening and the sun has set. The weather is chilly tonight, with dark clouds looming on the horizon, pregnant with the threat of rain.
The greeter at the restaurant smiles at them warmly.
“We have reservations for two under Fitzpatrick.”
“Of course, Dr. Fitzpatrick. This way, please.”
The greeter takes two oversized menus and shows them the way through the tables. Giovanni’s is full tonight, and the tables are filled with silverware and candelabra and tall wine glasses with different colored liquids. Bottles containing olive oil line the walls as decoration, as do racks and racks of wine.
The greeter leads them to a table for two in the middle. Kirk pulls Shannon’s chair out for her. Just as she is about to sit down, she notices the diners at the table beside theirs.
It is a table which seats six people.
Lucien Walker is there, as handsome as ever, and his expression is as miserable as she has ever seen it. He appears like a dead man walking. His blue eyes are listless and he appears to be dazed and indifferent to the proceedings around him. The food on his plate is relatively untouched.
Shannon’s heart quickens. She had thought she is over him, but she isn’t. Not by a long shot.
Lucien is seated beside a sparkling redhead, whose laughter tinkles merrily as she converses with Margarete Walker. A blond man who looks remarkably like Margarete is also there, and Shannon takes note that he is Lucien’s infamous father.
There are two middle-aged people also seated there. The woman is dressed in an expensively-cut dress suit with Chanel buttons and the man is in a tux. Shannon figures that they must be Flora Janssen’s parents, flown in for the wedding.
