by Bec Adams
Donovan pulled back quickly, apparently having been unaware of his actions. “I can’t claim you,” he said in a tortured voice. “We’ll be banished from the pack.”
“Claiming doesn’t work like that,” Sogarn said breathlessly, trying to sooth his lover’s worries. “You weren’t born a wolf. I would have to claim you first.” He pulled Donovan back to him and pressed closer, forcing his flesh into the other man’s mouth. He shuddered as sharp fangs grazed over his skin once again. “Please, I promise it’ll be okay.”
Donovan nodded, his absolute trust in Sogarn flowing through their connection, his thrusts growing harder, his mouth opening wider, his teeth finally sinking into Sogarn’s neck. The incredible sensation sent electricity forking through his entire body. Sogarn felt Donovan’s cock swell even more just before he shot his load, his teeth still embedded in Sogarn’s neck.
Donovan pressed hard against him as he jerked the fist wrapped around Sogarn’s cock. Sogarn’s balls pulled impossibly tight, his breath caught, his eyes rolled back into his head as Donovan sucked harder on his throat and forced him to climax.
Breathing heavily, Donovan fell forward, blanketing Sogarn’s body with his own, the heavy weight making it feel like it was impossible for Sogarn to move. Fortunately, he couldn’t imagine anywhere he would rather be.
“I love you,” Donovan said as he stroked his face.
Sogarn smiled almost shyly at the man who’d been his best friend for the last ten years, and who was now his lover. “I think I’ve always loved you. It may have taken a while for me to see that we could have a physical relationship as well as an emotional one, but I know without doubt that you are the most important person in my world.”
“And you are the most important person in mine.”
Sogarn lay there on the bed, covered in his own cum, Donovan’s cock still embedded in his ass, and couldn’t imagine anywhere else he’d rather be.
Chapter One
“Look, Polly, our silver friend is back.”
Wendy moved slowly, not wanting to spook the beautiful wolf that stood at the edge of the forest. She wasn’t silly enough to go out there—it was a wild creature after all—but she hadn’t seen it in over a week and had begun to worry. It was probably silly to fret over creatures in their natural habitat, but she’d noticed this wolf and one other long ago and had begun to think of them as “her wolves.”
“Stupid wolf, stupid wolf, stupid wolf,” her parrot said, hopping from one leg to another.
“Wolves aren’t stupid, Polly,” Wendy said absently. It was a familiar “argument.” Intellectually she knew that the bird was only parroting words it had heard over the years, but there were times when it seemed so much more than just another bird. It boggled the mind to think on how old the parrot—a white-and-yellow cockatoo—actually was. Apparently forty-four wasn’t unheard of for this particular type of bird—but it was nearly twice her age.
“Can’t talk. Stupid wolves. Can’t talk.”
“True,” she said with a smile at the bird, “but I’m sure he could swallow you in a single bite.”
“Wouldn’t dare. Wouldn’t dare.”
A little surprised by Polly’s newest phrase, Wendy tried to remember when she’d used those particular words as she turned her gaze back to the wolf. She’d always believed that animals were more intelligent than most people gave them credit for, but these particular wolves seemed even smarter than most.
She was still lost in thought when she heard a car pull into her front yard. As isolated as she was, it wasn’t often she got unexpected visitors, so she quickly rushed through the house to see who had arrived. The car wasn’t familiar, but the man who stepped out of it was.
And the word “unwelcome” came to mind.
“What do you want, Brian?” she asked through the front window. She was not opening the door. The whole reason she’d chosen to move here, eventually inheriting her grandmother’s mountain home and the parrot that came with it, was to get away from this man.
“Don’t be like that, baby doll. Is that any way to speak to the man who’s come to rescue you from boredom?”
“I’m not bored.” She crossed her fingers as she uttered the small lie. She missed her grandmother dearly, and the place felt truly empty without the old woman’s zest for a simple life, but she was happy here, mostly. Living in such isolation was taking a toll—no matter how well it worked for her writing career—but Wendy wasn’t going to admit that to anyone. Especially not to this asshole.
He laughed in what she’d once thought of as his charming tone, but now knew was really just a nonverbal, derogatory insult. Brian considered himself better than everyone around him and never hesitated to make sure others knew their place—beneath him. It was hard to believe she’d ever thought herself in love with this man.
“You’re not being very polite,” he said in the sort of reprimanding tone an indulgent parent might use on a precocious five-year-old. “I’ve come a long way to talk to you. The least you can do is open the door.”
Her left eye ached just at the memory of the last time she’d opened the door to this man. He’d just lost another job, again apparently through no fault of his own, and had been in a foul mood. He’d yelled at her for wasting her time writing when he was working his ass off—conveniently forgetting the full-time job she worked each night. When she’d finally gotten published, he’d been supportive all the way up to her first lousy royalty payment. Annoyed as hell that her books weren’t making the money he’d been expecting—thereby forcing the need for him to find another job—the argument had gone on long into the night. Eventually, and very stupidly as it turned out, she’d tried to calm him down and had instead gotten close enough for him to literally pound her with his frustrations.
Fortunately, she wasn’t stupid enough to hang around. She’d packed her bags, moved here to live temporarily with her grandmother, and had never left.
“I’m sorry, Brian,” she said, suddenly realizing just how vulnerable she was here alone, “but there’s nothing for us to talk about.”
“Of course there is,” he said in that cajoling tone of voice she’d once thought so cute. “Come on, baby doll. I don’t want to do this through the door.”
“Do what?” she asked in confusion.
“Ask you to marry me,” he said, standing close enough to the open window that she took a step back.
“Marry you?”
Stunned didn’t begin to describe her reaction. Fuck, was this guy for real? She’d left him because he was an abusive asshole. What the hell would make him think she’d marry him? Unfortunately, the answer was fairly obvious. Her latest book had just hit The New York Times Best Sellers list.
“Yes, baby doll, marry me.” He seemed confident that she would open the door now. He actually stepped close enough to try the handle. “Come on, Wendy. Open the door. Let your soon-to-be husband in.”
She was literally lost for words. Her hands were shaking so hard that she had to clasp them together just to be able to think. For a long time she’d dreamed of this man proposing to her. When she’d believed him to be a hard-working, decent kind of guy, he’d seemed like a good choice for a husband. Even his temper, while volatile on occasions, hadn’t really concerned her until that final day. She was still embarrassed by the fact that it had taken him getting physically violent for her to finally see the selfish, self-centered asshole underneath the false charm.
“Thank you, Brian,” she said, striving to keep her voice polite, “but I don’t think getting married would be a good choice for either of us. I’m sorry you came all this way.”
“Open. The fucking. Door.”
She took a step back, wishing now that the door had a deadlock or something a little stronger than the twist button lock that was part of the door handle. With her nearest neighbors over twelve miles of winding, treacherous roads away, she’d never considered the need for better locks. Her grandmother had never even used them. Thank goodness Wen
dy had lived in the city long enough for locking the door to be an ingrained habit.
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering where the hell she would go. The woodland surrounding her small home wasn’t exactly a death trap, but she usually avoided it when the wolves were hanging around.
The first loud crash against the door made her jump back, fear and adrenaline flooding her senses. She yelped in shock as the second thump splintered the doorframe. Terrified, she turned and ran. She got about five steps before Brian tackled her, landing hard on top of her as she fell.
“Look what you made me do!” he screamed at the back of her head as he pinned her to the ground. Wendy couldn’t help it. She cowered, memories of that day eight months ago flooding her mind. She was alone. Even if she could phone for help, it would literally be an hour or more before anyone got here. Fighting Brian would make things worse. Agreeing to marry him now wouldn’t even stop him. She was in serious trouble.
Polly was screeching at the top of his voice, dancing on the spot, the feathers on top of his head flaring with his agitation. “Leave her alone. Leave her alone. Leave her alone.”
Brian didn’t even seem to hear the bird, let alone do as it demanded.
“I’m sorry,” Wendy finally said to the bird as despair overtook all reason. Brian could literally do whatever he liked and she had no way to stop him. Who would look after Polly once she was gone?
“You will be sorry,” Brian said, gripping her jaw in a merciless grip, twisting her neck painfully as he forced her to look at him. “I came here to give you a second chance, and this is how you thank me? You’re going to learn to obey me, baby doll, even if it takes the rest of your life to teach you.”
“Leave her alone. Leave her alone. Leave her alone,” Polly kept saying over and over, but it was the low growl of a wolf that sent a strange feeling of hope through her. She didn’t even want to think about the fact that she found the idea of getting torn to shreds by wild wolves far preferable to spending another moment being frightened of this man.
“What the fuck?” Brian exclaimed as something pulled him backward. He held onto her, taking her with him as two very large wolves dragged him away. Wendy almost smiled at the huge silver wolf that grabbed his arm, forcibly releasing Brian’s grip on her. And then she watched in stunned fascination as the wolves dragged him to his car, dumped him near the driver’s side, and growled menacingly until he climbed into the seat and slammed the door.
It looked like Brian might try to run them over on his way out of her driveway, but again the wolves proved they were far more intelligent than even she’d given them credit for by splitting up. The silver wolf moved into the shelter of the trees and the blond wolf turned back to the house, taking up a protective stance in front of her.
If she had a lick of sense, she probably would have closed the door and gone looking for something to barricade it shut, but instead she stood in her hallway, fascinated by the protective behavior of wolves she’d long considered hers.
Finally, as the dust from Brian’s car faded in the distance, the blond wolf turned to her, gazing at her face as if somehow it could read her emotions. Wendy smiled and nodded her thanks, even though she realized she was treating a wolf like it was a human.
Her knees wobbled when the wolf nodded in return, yipped once at its packmate, and then both disappeared back into the tree line.
Chapter Two
Three months later…
“Polly want a cracker?” Wendy asked with a wide smile at the bird that, at the very least, filled her day with noise. She’d often prayed for a settled life, but lately it had felt rather boring. A little excitement wouldn’t go astray right now. Of course, that meant leaving her mountain hideaway, and quite frankly that wasn’t really something she wanted to do. It looked like boring was going to be a rather solid theme in her life. Thank heavens for her imagination and her writing career—neither of which required prolonged exposure to other people.
“No,” Polly said, flaring the feathers on his head in annoyance. “No cracker Polly.”
Wendy knew she shouldn’t be teasing the poor bird, but it still tickled her funny bone that the cockatoo could be offended by being treated like a cockatoo. This Polly definitely didn’t want crackers.
“I wonder where our furry friends are today,” she said to the bird as she stepped onto the back veranda with her morning coffee. Nearly every day since that horrible day three months ago, she’d been able to find at least one of the wolves close to her house. Often they even ventured onto her patio to sit near her. It probably should have been unnerving, but after the way they’d sent Brian away without hurting anyone, she’d felt like an honorary member of the pack.
“Stupid wolves. Stupid wolves. Can’t talk. Can’t talk.”
“Lucky for you, they don’t seem inclined to eat nasty-mouthed cockatoos either.”
The silver wolf was sitting at the base of the steps, its tongue lolling out as its warm breath steamed into the early morning air.
“Silvey, Silvey, Silvey,” the cockatoo said, dancing and whistling in a tone that sure as hell sounded insulting. The wolf bared its teeth but fortunately didn’t try to eat the bird whole. Wendy admired the wolf’s restraint. There had been a few times she’d wondered herself why she put up with the demanding, insulting, feathered fiend.
When the wolves had first started to visit her, she’d tried to name them. Nothing too imaginative unfortunately—perhaps that had been the problem—but the wolves had seemed annoyed when she’d named them Silver and Blondie in deference to their different colorings. She’d stopped using the names quickly, but unfortunately not quickly enough for Polly. The damn bird had learned them almost instantly and apparently took great pleasure in teasing the wolves each time they came to visit.
“Hello,” she said to the wolf. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
The wolf took that as an invitation to climb onto the veranda and flop down at her feet with an annoyed-sounding huff. She’d been up late last night writing the end to her newest story, so her morning coffee was a lot later than her usual crack-of-dawn routine. The later timing of her morning ritual seemed to have annoyed the wolf. Apparently sleeping in was not a way to make her wolves happy.
“Sorry,” she said reaching down to rub the fur behind the wolf’s ear. “I finally managed to get that story ending right last night, but it took a lot longer than I’d been planning.”
The wolf pricked its ears her way, gave her what she assumed was the wolfy equivalent of a happy smile, and then settled at her feet once more.
“I hope my readers will like this one,” she said as she absently petted the wolf’s furry belly with her bare foot. “It’s a little bit different to the others, but I needed the change.” The wolf made a moaning sound that seemed suspiciously like agreement. Thank heavens she’d never told anyone about her closest friends and their seemingly human-type reactions. She’d surely be locked in a rubber room if she claimed a smart-ass cockatoo and two wild wolves understood every word she said.
No, that observation was best kept to herself.
* * * *
Donovan Taylor watched the surveillance footage and smiled at his lover getting a belly rub from a woman they’d both grown to like. They’d been on this assignment for forty-four years now, but it was only in the past year that things had at least become more interesting. Wendy Roberts was a beautiful soul—creative, caring, friendly—and made the monotony of protecting an ungrateful charge more interesting.
Even without audio feed Donovan could hear that rotten feather-covered fraud teasing Sogarn. More than once Donovan had considered going with his wolfy instincts and eating the noisemaker, but that would end their assignment and in all likelihood put them back in the middle of pack life.
Of course, eating the being they’d been assigned to protect wouldn’t go down well with their alpha and might even be the excuse he used to finally banish them from the pack. Considering the alpha’s attitude toward
them, Donovan could quite happily live without the wolf’s bigotry, but the pack was important to Sogarn, so Donovan controlled his instincts and stayed close to his packmate. At least with this assignment they were alone together and not under the constant scrutiny of every busybody wolf trying to ingratiate themselves with the alpha.
But there were times when the punishment almost seemed worth the satisfaction of using the bird as a chew toy. Polly was an annoying pain in the ass who’d never known anything but a pampered life—even before he’d taken up residence as a spoiled family pet. From Donovan’s perspective, the only downside to eating the bird was that they would no longer have an excuse to be close to Wendy.
And staying close to Wendy seemed like such a good idea. The asshole who’d attacked her three months ago hadn’t come back, but Donovan knew both he and Sogarn would be there if he ever did. Their only regret was that the violent monster had managed to make it into the house in the first place.
A tiny warning siren started to bleep, so Donovan leaned over the console and brought up the road map for the area. They’d managed to extend their surveillance perimeter all the way to the edge of the highway, so it wasn’t uncommon for cars to wander into the zone. Fortunately, most seemed to be lost and quickly headed back the way they’d come. Wendy seemed less inclined to having visitors than her grandmother had been, so for the most part things were very quiet. From a security perspective it was perfect, but after forty-four years of the same assignment, it was getting harder and harder to stay focused.
Truly the only excitement they’d had since taking on this duty was the incident three months ago. And now that they were managing to get much closer to the house without frightening Wendy, they were in a better position to protect her, should the need arise.
But instead of turning back as expected, the unidentified car continued climbing the mountain, clearly heading for Wendy’s home.
