Alpha House: A Shapeshifter/BBW Novel: The Complete Seven-Part Collection

by Lib Starling

  The gray wolf turned and sped back the way it had come, following the faint suggestion of its own moon-silvered paw prints. When he had drawn abreast of the far-off parking lot he slowed, watching the silhouette of his Mustang for a moment, remembering the time he’d driven with Roxy to the elk preserve, when they had watched the herd come down the mountain. He had wanted to chase them – wanted to send the herd flying before his wolf’s body, snapping at their heels, daring himself ever closer to their dangerous antlers. The memory of that desire filled his heart, and he recalled, too, his desire for Roxy.

  That memory never left him, in truth. She was always with him, as much a part of his soul as his totem was. He still had his wolf, thank God. But he didn’t have Roxy.

  He shook his dark ruff; his paws slipped on the ice. Thoughts of Roxy only heated him further, to an intolerable frenzy of longing, love, and painful loss. He flung himself onto the ground and rolled, pressing his fur against the cold earth, trying to drive her memory away with the physical impact of the chill. Cold cut sharply against the heat induced by his run, but the tingling pain wasn’t enough to banish Roxy from his heart.

  The wolf stood shakily and stared up at the moon. He drew in a deep breath that tasted of ice and salt, and his tongue curled with the desire to howl. He would have howled, would have sang his sorrow and loneliness to the night – but in that moment a rattle and bang sounded from back near the parking lot, and Chase stilled himself, turning to watch and listen.

  A bulky, rounded object coasted over the distant road. Two headlights flickered at its front, illuminating for a moment the burnt-orange side of the Mustang. The color leapt bright and startling against the monotonous winter-blue-and-shadows of the moonlit landscape. Then the vehicle pulled into the parking lot beside the Mustang and stalled. It gave one final cough and subsided into silence.

  Shit, Chase thought, staring at the old Airstream camper in dismay. Right next to my car. He would have to wait until the people inside were well asleep for the night before he could sneak back to his car, shift to his human form, dress and drive away. At least his fur was warm enough for the wait.

  The driver’s door of the camper slammed; the shadowy suggestion of a body moved, darting around the front of the Airstream, opening the engine compartment with jerky movements. There was something distinctly feminine in its character, though Chase couldn’t put his paw on exactly what made him sure.

  He slipped closer and watched, still a good way off. The woman had a flashlight now and was bent over the engine. Chase inhaled deeply. The hot, burnt-oil odor of the engine singed his nostrils, but when he caught a whiff of the woman’s smell, he froze with his wolfish jaw hanging open in disbelief.

  It can’t be…

  He moved closer still, until he was near enough that if she had looked up from her engine, the woman with the camper would have noticed the wolf watching from the edge of the salt flats. He sniffed again, and at closer range the old familiar scent of his former lover was as hard and undeniable as a slap across the face.

  Chase waited. When she paused in her tinkering and rocked back onto her heels, cursing with hands on hips, Chase made a small snuffling noise, never taking his eyes from her back.

  She turned slowly with the flashlight in hand. Its beam cut across the edge of the flats and found him, blinding his eyes. He squinted and ducked his head, and she lowered the light again. When he could see once more, Chase noted that she had dropped the light on the frozen ground. But she hadn’t climbed back inside, wasn’t fleeing him in fear. Of course she wasn’t. She must recognize him still, even in his wolf form.

  He took a tentative step forward. The woman didn’t move. He came nearer still, drawing deeply on her scent, more certain than ever that he was correct, that against all odds, here she was, staring right back at him.

  Chase edged around her, made his way to the far side of his Mustang, and shifted quickly with the car to shield him from her stare. He retrieved his keys and scrambled into his clothes. By the time he’d finished dressing, as he shoved his feet into warm woolen socks and crammed his numb toes into his shoes, she had made her way around the side of the car, where she stood gazing in disbelief.

  “It is you,” she said. “I thought… when I saw the wolf… but I wasn’t sure.” She looked him up and down again, shaking her head in stunned awe. Then she looked deep into his eyes. “My God.”

  Chase gave her a crooked, uncertain smile. “Hi, Katrina. Long time, no see.”

  .5.

  T he brush whipped past Roxy’s face. She ducked as she ran, pressing her body close to the earth, feeling the frost-tipped branches slide over her fur like gentle hands. They left crystals of ice among her red pelt, and her pointed face opened in a vulpine grin of pleasure at the tingling burst of cold.

  Not fair, Alexander’s white wolf called to her, the melodious voice of his totem clear and loud in her mind. You can go where I can’t. You’re too small; I can’t keep up with you!

  Too bad, she called back. You can run faster and you’re stronger, so it all comes out even in the end.

  She heard his paws pounding through the forest, a hollow, rhythmic thump against the wintery ground. He shot through a nearby thicket in a shower of snow and broken icicles, panting with joy, his blue eyes twinkling, and Roxy yipped, dodging back into the dense, low brush before he could tag her with his paw.

  All right, all right, Alexander pleaded. We have to get some real learning done, or Darien will be angry again.

  Roxy trotted into the secluded clearing where she took her regular lessons. Alexander appeared a moment later, the huge white wolf shaking his body to clear the bits of ice and snapped-off twigs from his fur. This was their first lesson alone together – Darien was usually on hand to guide Roxy’s learning, and to help her feel more secure around Alexander. But he had business in town, and couldn’t make today’s meeting in the forest.

  Roxy had assured him that she’d be fine on her own. Alexander had been a perfect gentleman since the day of his startling apology. Now he was controlled and polite, and caring without being overbearing. Cautiously, Roxy was even starting to regard him as something of a friend. Not a close friend – she doubted she’d ever trust him that far. But she felt safe learning from him, even with Darien far away.

  She and Alexander both knew, though, that Darien would be annoyed if she couldn’t show him some new skill at their next meeting. His elk totem made him wary and sober, and deeply concerned for all those he loved. Darien was convinced that Scarlett was still a very real threat to Roxy, even though no one had seen or smelled a hint of the witch for months. As far as Darien was concerned, Roxy couldn’t learn fast enough, and there was still so much she didn’t know…

  She sat on her haunches, looking up at Alexander’s wolf. All right, what’s the lesson plan for today?

  I thought we’d try a rapid shift – from fox to human and back again as quickly as you can manage.

  Roxy considered. She’d gotten good at shifting, and was even better now at controlling her totem – keeping that whispered desire to run in her animal shape reined well in. But it still took a great deal of concentration and visualization to achieve each shift. It wasn’t instinctive yet; the process was deliberate and careful. Could she do it quickly? She thought it might just be possible.

  Then her ears twitched, and her fur prickled with a hot flush. If she couldn’t shift back quickly, she’d be naked here in this clearing, exposed to the cold and to Alexander’s eyes. She squinted at him and said nothing.

  It’s a necessary skill, he assured her. Sometimes you think you’re alone, and that it’s safe to shift into one form or another. But when you realize it’s not safe after all, what do you do? You’ve got to have the skills to get yourself back into your desired form in the blink of an eye.

  Roxy ducked her pointed muzzle, a nod of acceptance. She could see his point.

  A rapid shift can be difficult, Alexander went on, even for a shifter who’s been do
ing it for decades. That’s because the circumstances are usually so tricky – you never expect to need the ability; the need is just thrust upon you one day. The more you practice it, the easier time you’ll have performing it when it truly counts – when you could be in danger if you’re caught shifting.

  All right, she said. I’m willing to try. But if it turns out that I can’t do it very quickly…

  The cold will be a great motivator. The white wolf licked his lips in humorous nonchalance.

  I’m less concerned about the cold and more concerned about being stuck naked in front of you.

  Alexander watched her for a silent moment from the windows of those blue eyes. They were growing clearer all the time, easier to peer into – it was easier to see his soul, to know the real man. At last he said, You can trust me, Roxy.

  She yipped with laughter. I’m not sure I can. You must know I’ve never really trusted you since… since our date. That can’t be a surprise to you, Alexander.

  It’s not a surprise. He shrugged his shaggy white shoulders. And it’s no more than what I deserve. We don’t have to try the rapid shift if you don’t want to…

  I’ll try it. Her own determination surprised her. Roxy stood on her black-tipped paws. It’s a stretch for me to trust you in this way. I’m putting a lot of faith in you…

  I know.

  I hope I won’t regret it.

  The white wolf lay placidly in the snow. I won’t move from this spot, unless something really terrible happens and you need serious help. I won’t come near you; I won’t leave you, either, unless you tell me to, and if you tell me to, I’ll go immediately. If I lie, may Darien skewer me on his antlers the moment we get back to Alpha House.

  Still she hesitated. She wanted to believe she could trust him that far – far enough to keep himself in control. She wanted to know that she was truly safe around him again, that he had changed for the better.

  Believe me, Alexander said. I won’t move.

  Roxy nodded. She listened intently as he described the process, what made a rapid shift so different from a regular shift. She took several deep breaths as she thought through his instructions, considering each step of the greater skill. Finally, when she felt as ready as she ever would, Roxy reached back toward her heart and uncurled herself from the place where she hid.

  The change did happen much faster than normal; the shock of her sudden transformation was like a slug to the chest, the impact stealing the breath from her lungs. Her human skin burned in the fierce cold, but she inverted the shift as quickly as she made it and called her fox to the surface once again.

  The two divided halves of her spirit hesitated, confused by the physical sensations and the unaccustomed abruptness. In that moment Roxy looked down at Alexander’s white wolf. He gazed up at her calmly, his body relaxed in the snow, not tense with the predatory ferocity he’d shown on their terrible date. But his eyes did flick quickly down her exposed body, taking in her large breasts, her wide hips, and the junction of her round thighs in a single glance.

  After what felt like an eternity, the fox returned to the surface, the white light crashed before Roxy’s eyes, and she tumbled into the snow, panting, gazing down at two furred forelegs stretched before her. She still burned with the feel of winter’s cold against her skin, but she was a fox again – she had done it.

  How fast was that? she asked Alexander. It felt like forever.

  A couple of seconds. Not bad, really, for a first try, but you’ll have to be a lot faster if you’re going to turn it into a real, useful skill.

  Ugh. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.

  It does that to you. It gets easier to bear the more you try it.

  I don’t have to do it again today, do I?

  Not unless you want to. He fell silent and watched her as she stretched her aching body. Then he said, Can I get up now?

  Oh – of course. Please do.

  Alexander rose and casually shook, rumpling up his white ruff. I told you I wouldn’t move until you said I could.

  He had done as he’d promised. Roxy was grateful. Her fox grinned up at him, and Alexander wagged his tail. Then he looked up at the sky, pearly gray through the high, dark branches of the trees. Sunset’s coming soon. We should head back to Alpha House.

  Impulsively, still thrilling to her success – even if the rapid shift had left her feeling like she’d been kicked by an entire troop of cantankerous mules – Roxy moved close to the white wolf. Thank you. For showing me how to do it, and for… She remembered the quick flick of Alexander’s eyes, taking in her naked human form. But she remembered, too, his calm restraint. …And for keeping your word.

  The long muzzle bent toward her, the fur as white as fresh snow. No problem, Roxy. You can trust me from now on. I swear it.

  His breath was warm against her cheek. Roxy took one hesitant step closer, then reached her own nose toward him and brushed gently against his face. Her sensitive whiskers leapt to life, filling her with the intriguing electricity of close contact. Alexander’s tongue flicked out, caressing her muzzle with a wolfish kiss.

  It was brief and almost chaste in its lightness. But all the way back to Alpha House, as the fox followed the wolf through the snow, her heart pounded with excitement.

  .6.

  C hase’s grip on the flashlight tightened until his hand ached. He watched Katrina with wide eyes and a tight-set mouth, half wondering and glad, but half sick with surprise. He hadn’t seen her for nearly year and a half – not since Alexander had stolen Katrina’s heart and broken Chase’s. To find her now, out in the wild darkness below the blue light of the half-moon, was almost more shocking than Chase could bear. The only time he could remember feeling so unsettled was when he’d met Roxy – when he’d detected the rare totem sleeping within her female form.

  He watched Katrina in the narrow beam of light as she wedged her head and shoulders beneath the camper’s hood. She had the same high, feline cheekbones, the same sharp blue eyes, the same pointed nose. Her blonde hair was darker than he remembered it, though that might have been the effect of shadows among her many braids and a few long, matted locks. The whole jumble was pulled back into a ponytail and tied with a beaded leather cord. He could see beads and small ivory-colored, figural charms woven among her braids. Her hair – her body – was wonderfully fragrant, not with perfume or the artificial floral notes of commercial soaps and shampoos, but with a mixture of herbs, oils, and her own inviting, feminine, unmasked scent. Chase breathed deep, savoring her presence.

  Katrina gave a final twist with her wrench and withdrew from the cavern of the engine compartment, smiling. “Thanks for holding the flashlight. You’re a real pro.”

  “I’m glad one of us is. I’m hopeless with anything mechanical, so thank you for not pulling the damsel in distress card and making me tinker with your engine. I’d probably have broken it.”

  She laughed as she opened the passenger door, pulled a small squeeze bottle from somewhere within, and squirted a citrus-smelling goo on her hands. Chase watched her scrub the black grime from her hands with a rag.

  “You know me,” Katrina said. “I was never much of one for the damsel in distress routine.”

  “You ought to be careful, though. Out here by yourself… you’ve got to watch out for…”

  “Wild animals?” Her enchantingly wide mouth curved in a crooked smile.

  Chase shrugged. “I hear wolves can be dangerous.”

  “You aren’t trying to scare me, are you? Or impress me?” She tapped him playfully on the shoulder. “You know I never thought you were dangerous.”

  Chase flicked the flashlight’s switch. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim starlight, but he could see Katrina blinking and squinting in the sudden shadows. “And Alexander?” he asked softly. “Did you ever think he was dangerous?”

  “Ha. Alexander’s totem ought to be a kitten, not a wolf.”

  “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

  She moved close
r. The warm, herbaceous halo of her scent enveloped him; Chase’s senses swam dizzily and for a moment he was back in time, living once more in those glorious, beautiful days when he had loved her – when he had thought she loved him, too.

  “I know you were hurt,” Katrina murmured. She was near enough that he could feel the heat of her body, could feel the soft stir of her breath against his cheek. “I regret that, Chase, I really do. I did love you.”

  She took his hand. A curious swell rose in his chest, a tight pressure. It seemed so strange, so unreal, that her hand should feel so familiar in his own, as if he’d never stopped holding it. And yet all he could see when he closed his eyes was Roxy’s face, gazing up at him with earnest, innocent trust, and with his eyes closed, the feel of Katrina’s hand became the feel of Roxy’s.

  Chase opened his eyes again. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of Roxy now. She wanted nothing more to do with him, and that was that.

  He squeezed Katrina’s hand, but could find nothing to say.

  She pulled him gently toward the camper. “Come on, I’m freezing. Let’s get inside.”

  The camper’s engine turned over beautifully and purred, each stroke of its pistons measured and reliable. “That’s what I’m talking about,” Katrina crowed. She turned on the dome light as Chase settled into the passenger seat. Then he turned to look down the length of the old Airstream.

  It was more gypsy wagon than camper, decked out with knick-knacks, colorful prayer flags and wall-hangings. A few books lay scattered on a salon seat that surely must convert into a bed, and Chase could smell the faint traces of many meals cooked at the tiny two-burner stove along one wall.

  “You… live here?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Of course.”