The Gift of Love

by Lori Foster

  Yeah. That’s right. So bring it on.

  By the time dusk set the forest sky ablaze with rich dark colors, I felt like one of the family. The crowd of wolves at the forest’s edge had grown to sixty or more, all of them pacing, excitement rumbling through the air on hushed growls and anxious yips. Standing among them, I felt more complete than I’d known possible. God, I’d miss this.

  Luke’s father, Tomas, made his way to the front of the undulating mass of fur-covered bodies. Others’ thoughts murmured through my head, nothing clear enough to follow, everyone thinking at once. I expected the hum of conversation to fade, anticipating a speech or some other indication that whatever we were waiting for was about to begin. But the rumbling of unfocused chatter continued.

  Tomas reached the forest line. A few heads turned to watch him. He raised his nose, sniffing the changing wind. And then he ran.

  Just like that. No words were needed. Instinct drove the pack of massive wolves into the forest after him, like a wave rolling back out to sea. Lean bodies stretched in long strides, eating up ground. The hunt was on, and I was in.

  All in.

  Luke raced at my side. I’d caught the scent of my rabbit, claimed it as mine by following its trail. Luke didn’t seem to bother finding one of his own. He stayed with me. We’d work as a team. I liked that. Plus I could use the help. Rabbits were fast and clever, a real challenge.

  Twenty minutes into the hunt, the wooded floor of the forest rolled and twitched with movement. Wolves, heads low to the ground, darting like fireflies this way and that, zeroed in for the kill.

  The kill. I couldn’t think about it. My wolf brain had narrowed to a single mission, a single thought.

  Catch. The. Rabbit.

  I was getting close, the rabbit’s scent filled my nose, every breath drew it into my lungs, and it was seeping into my bloodstream, my mouth. I could taste him, feel him. The rabbit was mine.

  A blur of light fur streaked across my rabbit’s trail in front of me. And then again. I flicked my gaze ahead and saw her. Madison. She’d picked up the scent of a rabbit. My rabbit.

  “Oh no she didn’t. ”

  “She’s challenging you, ”Luke whispered to my mind. “You can bow out. Give her the rabbit and find another. I’ll help. ”

  “Like hell. That’s my rabbit. ”I raced ahead of Madison, taking the risk that I understood my prey better than her, knew its mind, its escape plan, knew which way it would go without confirming my guess with my nose.

  The world fell away, my path through the forest narrowed, cleared as though the trees and brush parted for me. My body was air and muscle, light and powerful. I felt my prey running for its life, its heart pounding with mine, its senses flaring out, turning this way then jackknifing back the other way.

  I didn’t know where Madison was. I didn’t care. My eyes judged the distance between me and the four-foot-high fallen tree ahead of me and, beyond that, the rabbit where it sat frozen beneath one of the thick dead branches. I leapt, sailing over the tree, took three strides and scooped the rabbit up with my mouth before its tiny brain thought to run.

  I turned around in time to see Madison jump onto the tree. She hadn’t judged the distance as well as I had. Luke cleared the tree a second later to land in front of me.

  “She didn’t kill it, ”Madison said.

  “Uh … yeah I did. ” The rabbit was playing dead. I thought maybe I could fake it. Never mind I could feel its little heart beating like a windup toy.

  “She doesn’t have to kill it, ” Luke said. “She made the catch. It’s as good as dead.”

  “What is she, a vegetarian?” By the tone of Madison’s voice, you’d think a vegetarian was someone who ate poo.

  “She wouldn’t be the only one in the pack, ”Luke said. “She met your challenge. She proved herself the better hunter. ”

  “ Auntie Ella’s an alpha?” Zoey asked, trotting around the root end of the fallen tree. Chloe followed right behind her sister.

  “Alpha?” The rabbit started wiggling in my mouth. I guess it decided playing dead wasn’t getting it anywhere. “But I’m new. Shouldn’t I start at omega and work my way up?”

  “Nu-uh. Madison’s an alpha, and you won her challenge. That makes you an alpha, too,” Chloe said. “That means you can be Uncle Luke’s mate. ”

  “Mate?” The rabbit fell out of my mouth and ran.

  seven

  Later that night it took me forever to fall asleep. My muscles were still charged from the hunt, and my skin kept tingling and crawling on my bones like it’d take off without me. The next morning I opened my eyes to the familiar sensation of Luke’s arm draped around my waist, his body warm and soft spooned against mine.

  I sighed, nestled my head deeper into the feather pillow. A strand of my hair caught at the corner of my mouth, and I reached my hand up and tucked the slobbery hair behind my ear.

  Hair? Hand?

  My body shot straight up without the aid of my brain. Luke snorted. I looked over my shoulder to see him lick his lips and roll over. The excitement of last night’s pack festivities had worn him out, too.

  Thank you, God.

  I turned my back to him, my legs dangling off the edge of the bed, and examined my body. Yep, I was me again, two arms, complete with hands and fingers, two boobs—six was just … I can’t talk about it—two legs with feet, not paws, and all of it absolutely furless.

  Luke made another sleepy grumble, and I looked over my shoulder at him again. The urge to snuggle in next to him, inhale his scent, feel the warmth of his body on mine like I’d done every morning for the past several weeks was almost undeniable. But I was a different species then, a different person. It was over. I had to get out of there.

  NONE of my clothes fit. I’d swiped shorts and a shirt from Luke but I had to get to work. I’d dropped two sizes but my boobs were only half a cup size smaller. What difference did it make, though, if I couldn’t be with Luke? My leaner body wasn’t the cure-all I’d always thought it’d be. I was still the same insecure person I’d always been, scared the man I’d come to love would change his mind when he saw the human me again.

  The morning flew by, my mind everywhere except on work. I should’ve been trying to figure out why my seventh grade English class was scheduled to watch Romeo and Juliet instead of reading it. Instead I sat at my desk staring at the empty seats between classes, my mind wandering back to thoughts of Luke.

  We’d grown so close, but what if things were different when we were face to face instead of face to muzzle. The thought of seeing him again tightened my stomach, made my hands sweat. What if everything was different between us now? What if it wasn’t?

  I didn’t want to face him. I didn’t want to lose reason to hope. Stupid. I know.

  “Wow, Ms. Blackwood!” One of my students said as a crowd of them shuffled into the room. “You look great. Did you cut your hair or something?”

  “No, she’s just wearing makeup,” another said.

  “She wore makeup before. It’s something else,” said another.

  I smiled. The Wolf Watcher’s Diet, such as it was, worked. I was healthier, leaner, but I still looked like me. “Thanks.”

  Problem was, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

  “It’s a very good thing. Like I said, I’m a big fan of those curves. And I happen to love you just the way you are. ” I heard his voice flow through my mind like warm chocolate.

  I looked toward the door of my classroom. He was still striding down the hall. I could hear him, smell him, and my heart skipped. I stood. He hadn’t seen me yet. Not the new me. “You sure you want to say that before you walk in here and see me?”

  “You’re my mate, Ella. I’ve known it for years. Do you know how hard it’s been waiting for you to realize it, too? Waiting for you to want me back?”

  “Your mate?” Something clicked inside me—instinct. I knew it was true. I understood in that moment the undeniable need for him. There was nothing I would
n’t do to be with him.

  He turned the corner through the door just as my students settled into their seats. In long powerful strides he crossed the room to me. His hands went to my face, cupping my cheeks in his palms. I gasped, my heart in my throat.

  “Marry me.”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed me, his lips warm, firm, seductive, and oh, so right.

  The room erupted with hoots and hollers, and slowly, reluctantly we broke the kiss. In my mate’s arms I turned to stare down the pack of teenage beasts that were my seventh grade class … and growled. Not loud, but enough they could feel it in their chests without knowing for sure what it’d been. The room fell silent.

  Yeah. Being a werewolf wasn’t all bad. Being healthy was even better.

  a fairy precious love

  GIA DAWN

  This is dedicated to my sister, Summer Eve Williams.

  With a mostgrdcious thank-you to our mother,

  Marilyn Hutton Chamberlain, for loving us both.

  one

  Summer watched the fairies fly by at dizzying speed, streaks of iridescent-colored wings cutting across the clear night sky like jewels thrown from the stars above.

  A tiny hand tugged at hers, and she knelt beside Princess Honeysuckle, who looked at her through mournful eyes. “Will I still be a fairy once they take away my wings?”

  Sorrow nearly made her mute as Summer struggled against a rush of tears. “Of course you will still be a fairy,” she explained, pulling the child close to her heart. “But a fairy of a different kind, one that walks instead of flies.”

  “Foxglove said they will throw me out of the trees and make me live in the dirt.”

  Summer sighed. “Foxglove doesn’t know a single thing about it.”

  She reached out and smoothed her hand across the little princess’s malformed wing, its edge curling and turning black as the blight took hold and spread across the membrane. If left untreated, the disease would eventually work its way into Honeysuckle’s bloodstream, condemning the child to a slow and painful death.

  Not that the other option was all that appealing.

  “I live on the ground,” Summer continued, forcing herself to smile. “And after your wings are gone, you can come and live with me, and I will teach you how to walk and run and play games few other fairies know of. Have you ever seen a toadstool from underneath?”

  Honeysuckle shook her head, tears spilling over despite her attempt at bravery. “Will my parents come to see me when I am on the ground?”

  “Of course we will,” came a masculine voice from behind.

  Summer bowed as the royal couple floated across the balcony to sweep their daughter into a crushing embrace.

  “And the king has promised to have our entire tree wrapped in railing, so you can come home by harvest time and we don’t have to worry about you falling off.” Crown Prince Stag-fern motioned for Summer to stand. “We cannot thank you enough for agreeing to let our daughter stay with you.”

  Princess Tiger-lily, Honeysuckle’s mother, dabbed at her eyes with one corner of her lovely pink-tipped wings. “You don’t know how much this means to us. When we first heard—” She broke off and clung to her husband and child, unable to finish the sentence.

  Summer understood how they must feel. It was a terrible blow to find out one’s daughter had contracted blight, knowing the only way to save her was to amputate her wings, forcing her into a way of life totally alien to most of her race.

  Summer had had her own wings removed when she was seventeen, far older than most who contracted the disease. Old enough to remember how glorious it felt to fly. Old enough to have lost much more than her wings.

  “I promise you I will guard her with my life,” she said, meaning every word. Although she’d had many wingless children in her care throughout the years, this was the first time the royal house had been affected.

  Honeysuckle sniffed and blinked, trying her best to keep her eyes open despite the fact she was up way past her bedtime. “Can we dance, Father? Fly so high we can touch the moon?”

  Stag-fern nodded, his face tight with emotion. “Of course we can. Why, your mother was just telling me today she hadn’t spoken to the moon for quite some time, isn’t that right, my dear?”

  Tiger-lily smiled and took her husband’s hand. “Talk to the moon? Silly. He never once talks back.”

  Honeysuckle’s giggles lingered as her parents soared high, keeping her safely wrapped in their arms.

  Summer knew she should leave. It was a hard climb down to her cozy chambers dug into the ground by the tree’s strong roots. But the lure of the ball kept her hostage, the music, laughter, and dancing stirring up memories she’d thought long forgotten.

  Their people were separated into two distinct classes. Those who had wings lived high atop the forest, their days spent frolicking in the sunshine or playing games of hide-and-seek in the moonlight.

  Those without wings, either lost from blight or other serious accidents such as getting caught in a spider’s web or snatched by a bat searching for its dinner, were cast out to toil on the earth below with brownies and gnomes who worked the fields or made the silks and jewelry the flying fairies constantly craved.

  Only recently had there been any social interaction between the classes, owing to the heroic efforts of the new fairy king, Wolf-moss, who was slowly making the upper kingdom safe and accessible to Summer and her wingless kinsmen.

  She held on tight to the newly installed railing and peeked over at the view, the fairies soaring over the treetops, dipping and diving in an aerial display that left her breathless … spellbound by their beauty and grace.

  A beauty and grace she would never know again.

  With a sigh, she turned to leave, freezing when she caught sight of the man who studied her from where he hovered just out of the light. “Your Majesty,” she said, dropping to one knee, her heart beating too fast and her pulse jumping madly.

  Wolf was every bit as beautiful as she remembered, his indigo wings a perfect match for his eyes, and his midnight-colored hair hanging long across his shoulders. He moved closer, stunning her again as he folded his wings behind his back and walked the distance between them.

  “I’ve been practicing,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “Especially now that my niece has been affected.”

  Grief darkened the depths of his eyes, quickly hidden behind a thick sweep of lashes.

  “She will be thrilled you took the time to learn.” The touch of his skin more than she could handle, Summer pulled her hand away. It had been so long since she had seen him, she thought her emotions were well under her control, but where Wolf-moss was concerned, her heart had never done anything she told it.

  “I still miss you,” he said, his voice a purr in the night.

  “You had to make a choice.” Summer shrugged and lowered her head, feeling ugly and clumsy in his presence. She tried to sweep by him and make her escape, but he grabbed her arm as she passed and yanked her hard against him, the heat from his body curling around her like sunshine on a cloudless day.

  “I made a mistake when I let you go.”

  “No. You didn’t.” Summoning up her courage, Summer dared him to see her in all her deformity. “You are king! Our people would never have accepted me as your mate.”

  “They would have if I’d demanded it.” Wolf’s mouth thinned, the expression not dimming his beauty in the least.

  Summer fought back the urge to press her mouth to his, wishing she had some magic to turn back the hands of time, make them young, happy, before the blight had stolen any chance she had to be his.

  “You have done so much to aid our cause,” she said instead, stilling in his arms, her voice kept carefully neutral. “Carving stairwells into the trunk of the trees was an absolute stroke of genius, Your Majesty. And the balconies have made it possible for many to return to their families and lead a fairly normal life.”

  “But you don’t.” His head dro
pped, his mouth moved closer, his tone laced with sensual promise. “I could give you anything you wanted, if you would come and live with me. And even if you couldn’t be my wife—”

  He broke off as a pair of brightly sparkling ladies of the court fluttered over, flaunting their perfect and glorious wings in an effort to capture the king’s attention.

  Summer broke from his grip and tried to hide in the shadows, but one of them had already seen her.

  “She’s blighted,” the fairy whispered, her eyes growing wide in horror. “Don’t touch her, she’s contagious!”

  “And she looks so awful,” added the second.

  “Enough!” Wolf-moss ordered.

  But Summer couldn’t bear to hear any more. She fled down the stairs, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste to get away. For years she had advocated education and acceptance, but the old fears died hard. Although their healers had determined the blight wasn’t contagious, many of her kind still believed the crippling condition could be spread through contact.

  And she didn’t have either the will or the energy to fight the superstitions tonight. Not with Wolf-moss watching her every move.

  Slowing to catch her breath, Summer realized she was already too far down to stop by her parents’ chambers. Not that she visited on any regular basis. Her mother and father were always uncomfortable in her presence, so she made it easier on everyone by staying remote and distant. Although they did make certain she had everything she needed to make her life comfortable on the ground, sending down luxuries such as spun honey and sugared rose petals.

  When she finally arrived at her door, the world was nearly silent, most of the ground-folk already tucked in safely for the night. The fairy ball still whirled brightly overhead, but the music and laughter were caught by the wind and didn’t carry this far below.

  Summer watched for a few moments more, the ache in her chest refusing to subside. Once upon a time, she had loved Wolf, the beautiful fairy king, when she was healthy and whole and had wings the color of starlight. But things had changed, and no amount of wanting in the world could ever change them back.