Crookshollow foxes box set: The complete fox shapeshifter romance series

by Steffanie Holmes

  “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said, his voice pinched with relief.

  “As am I. But why would you rescue me?” I asked, pushing a glass into his hand and sitting gingerly on the chair opposite him, a small oak table separating me from the other fox. I tried to focus on Ryan’s face – him sitting there in all his naked glory unnerved me. “You have no use for me. You have your mate.”

  “Melissa is not my mate,” his eyes bore into mine. “I told you to let me explain, but you kept running away. I was foolish to let you run for so long, you maddening woman. I put you in danger. I'm just grateful we got to you in time.”

  “She’s really not your mate?” Despite my own reservations, I felt a flicker of hope welling up inside me.

  “I never lied to you, Alex. Yes, Melissa and I used to be together, but we are not anymore. I haven’t seen her for a long time. Melissa is … a vulpine. She’s a fox-shifter. It’s very rare for a woman.”

  “She’s the Fox Woman?” Several of Ryan’s paintings depict a dark shadow of a woman with the face of a fox. Scholars referred to her as a kitsune – a fox-spirit who was part of Japanese folklore. Ryan painted her with a twisted kind of malice, as though he almost enjoyed the way he could distort her beauty into something malevolent and unsettling.

  “I am.”

  I whirled around. There, in the chair where the other fox had been only a few minutes ago, was the beautiful red-haired woman who had entered Ryan’s bedroom on Saturday morning and frightened me out of the house. She leaned back against the chair, completely comfortable baring her naked figure before me. And she had every reason to be comfortable, because she was perfect in every way. Her emerald eyes gleamed from her perfect, heart-shaped face, framed by a head of bouncing, auburn curls. She crossed her elegant legs beneath her, arching her back so that her perfect breasts pointed to the ceiling. She flicked a stray hair out of her eye and stared up at me with those piercing eyes. “We meet again,” she said.

  Her presence completely threw me. The whisky glass fell from my hand, hitting the rug with a dull thud and splashing the drink against my boots. Numb with shock, I stood frozen, unable to take my eyes off her.

  She looked me up and down, taking in my unkempt hair, my dirty sweater, and the torn and bloody knees of my jeans. Her face broke into a self-satisfied smirk. “I see you've been helping yourself to my clothes, as well as my man.”

  My stomach heaved. The wardrobe filled with beautiful designer pieces that Ryan had told me to enjoy … they belonged to her. I felt sick. I was wearing her jeans, her t-shirt. I'd slept in her pyjamas. Run. I told my legs to move, but they seemed to be made of stone.

  “Get out,” Ryan snapped at her. “This is a private conversation between me and Alex.”

  “It concerns me, too.” she said. “I’ve seen her type before. She’s insecure. She’s going to ask you to make me leave, and then where will I go?”

  “Excuse me?” Who did this bitch think she was? I balled my hands into fists at my sides, torn between leaving the room or slapping her across her smug, perfect face. Fight or flight, fight or flight ...

  “Alex is my mate, Melissa, not you. Surely you haven’t forgotten the circumstances of our last meeting?”

  I knew I shouldn’t have come back here. I watched Ryan stand up and face off against this woman, his face shot with anger. She stood as well, raising an elegant finger as if scolding a petulant child. They had both forgotten I was even in the room.

  “I made a mistake!" Melissa shouted. "But that doesn't mean what we had was any less real–”

  “What we had? You mean what we had when you walked out on me for him, and took all my money, and my father’s ring? Is that what you mean, Melissa?”

  “And look at what it got you? You’re a billionaire and an international sensation, all because of me. If I hadn’t done what I did, you would still be painting cartoon portraits for tourists on the streets of Belfast. By rights, half your fortune should be mine.”

  “I can’t fucking believe this. You expect me to give you half my money because you broke my heart. You are batshit fucking crazy–”

  I chose flight. I didn’t want to stand in the room and listen to them quarrel like lovers any more. I stepped back and slipped out of the room, while they continued to yell at each other.

  “I can’t believe you. I’d have thought, given our history, you’d be a bit more sympathetic to my plight, especially when I risked my life to come here and warn you. I have no one left, Ryan! If you throw me out, I’ll be completely on my own.”

  “My brother is injured!” he yelled back. “My mate is distraught. She could’ve been killed out there, all because you came back into my life. Forgive me if I’ve got other things on my mind than you, right now!”

  “That’s typical, isn’t it Ryan? You always put me last! She nearly got killed because of her own stupidity. If I hadn't have been there today, she and Marcus might not even be alive right now!”

  I heard the door slam behind me. I picked up my pace, trying to find my way back through the winding, identical hallways to where Kylie and Simon were tending to Marcus. I heard footsteps pounding the ground behind me. “Alex,” Ryan called out. “Please, don’t run away again. You need to let me explain what’s going on.”

  I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I simply kept walking.

  Ryan vaulted over an occasional table and leapt in front of me. Unable to slow momentum, I slammed into him. He wrapped his arms around me, trapping my hands at my sides, squeezing me against his naked torso.

  I wriggled, but couldn’t free my arms or duck underneath his. “Let me go.”

  “Not until you let me explain–”

  “There’s nothing to explain. The two of you deserve each other.” I wriggled some more, but he held me tight. "If I have to ask you again, I'll have you charged with assault."

  “You are so desperate not to trust me, you keep running toward the danger, instead of away from it. Isengrim could’ve killed you today. It could’ve been you being stitched up by Simon. I didn’t lie to you. Melissa isn’t my mate. I don’t want her here.”

  “She is sitting naked in your study.”

  “It’s not her fault. Clothes don’t shift with our bodies,” he raised his eyebrows. “You know this.”

  “Don’t be cute. I am this close to kneeing you in the groin.”

  “And I probably deserve it, too. Alex, I don’t want to hold you here like this. It feels wrong to me, but I need you to listen to me, without running away, or calling me names. Just hear me out. Then, if you don’t like what you hear, I’ll help you to leave here, and I'll protect you from Isengrim, but I’ll leave you alone. I will break the bond we share. I promise you.”

  “The two of you were just standing there, arguing like an old married couple, while Marcus is lying in another room, dying–”

  His face darkened, as if my words caused him physical pain. “I’m trying not to think about that,” he said. “If anyone can save him, Simon can. I should be there in case … in case he wakes up ... but I have to get things straight with us, first. Please Alex, I can’t bear having you put yourself in danger because you’re too fiercely independent to let me explain.”

  “Fine.” I nodded at a closed door off the side of the hall. “Let’s go in there.”

  “And you won’t run away.”

  “I won’t run away.”

  “As you wish,” he released his arms. As soon as he pulled away from me, my body sagged, missing the warmth of his. Why did my own body still crave him so, when my heart was desperate to be rid of him?

  Ryan pushed the door open and clicked on a light. I found myself in a large wine cellar – every wall lined with oak racks, each one stacked high with bottles. A line of barrels behind a bar in the corner revealed several aging whiskies, and in front of the bar stood a small, pot-bellied gas fireplace and two comfy chairs.

  “Another room I decorated to my own tastes,” said Ryan, walking behind the bar.
“Sit. I’ll get you another drink, since you discarded the last one in such a wanton manner.”

  I sat, folded my arms, and deliberately avoided looking at him. Behind me, I heard him pouring the drinks, adding ice. I read off the wine labels in my mind. Domaine Leroy, Domenico, Château Margaux … someone had expensive tastes.

  Ryan sat down opposite me, and pushed another scotch into my hand. He set his down on the table without even taking a sip, and folded his hands across his lap. Naked as he was, he couldn’t hide his nervousness.

  “I met Melissa when I lived in Belfast,” he began. “We had quite a romance, while it lasted. I was young, just coming to terms with what I was, and dating someone like her, someone who understood both sides of me – the man and the fox – it made me feel special, like I could do anything. I was certain she was the one, that we were destined to be together. But …” he paused. “She is a woman of peculiar tastes. I was never enough for her. She craved all the things I had begun to disdain – power, money, recognition. She wanted everyone to know how special she was. She wanted to walk down the street and have people bow down to her. When Isengrim came to Belfast for the first time to recruit shifters to his cause, she decided to stop at nothing to make him her mate.”

  “A fox can have a wolf as a mate?”

  “It’s … not the done thing. It’s not something you would talk about in polite company. But when they’re both in human form, of course it is possible.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. The memory was clearly extremely painful for him. My heart ached to hold him in my arms, but I stayed rooted to the chair. I needed to hear the rest of it, needed to know for certain that what Ryan and Melissa had was over.

  When Ryan spoke again, it was in a small voice. “For a while she strung me along as well, trying to see both of us, to hang on to what we had while she was with him. When I found out about her and Isengrim … I wasn’t thrilled, let’s put it like that. I wanted to leave the world for a while. Coming back to Crookshollow was the perfect excuse. I fixed up the house, I started taking my painting seriously, and I tried to forget her.”

  “But you never really did.”

  He shook his head. “I painted the Fox Woman because I was so angry, and I was powerless to do anything about that anger. She was under Isengrim’s protection, and I couldn’t touch her. But I could give her what she had wanted from him … I made her famous. But I made her famous for exactly what she is.”

  “So, knowing how you feel about her, why did she come here? Why now?”

  “She came here to warn me of Isengrim’s plans. She says that Isengrim has changed over the years, that what she used to find exciting about him, she now finds terrifying. She’s says she realises what a mistake she made leaving me …” he shook his head. “And I guess … I guess she was hoping to get me back, to get me to protect her, because she left him and came to me, and he won’t be able to let that insult stand. That’s why she told you she was my mate. It seems as if she believes we could work things out. But I told her …” he stroked the bite mark he’d left in my neck. “I told her it was over between us. You are the only one for me now.”

  My heart thundered against my chest. I wanted so badly for everything he said to be true. I wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms … but there were still too many questions without answers. I stayed where I was. “And what about Marcus? You lied about him, too. You could have told me he was your brother that night he came to my flat, or when we had dinner with Clara. You two talked for hours about your life story. How could you conveniently forget to include the fact you had a twin brother?”

  “Truthfully,” he said. “I felt like I was hitting you with so much crazy, I didn’t want to complicate things further. It didn’t seem that important – he and I haven’t seen each other since he found me in Belfast some years back. I’ve tracked his movements over the years, and I know Isengrim has got him into some dark stuff. He hates me for what I have and he doesn’t, Alex, and him hanging around Crookshollow can only be a bad thing. You didn’t need to know Marcus is related to me to know you need to stay away from him. And as for Clara, she doesn’t know he’s here, and I want to keep it that way. If she found out, she would try to go to him, and he’d probably kill her. Marcus has been fed a lot of lies about his mother and what happened to him.”

  “But he’s not dangerous. He’s spent the last two days keeping me safe. And right now, he’s …” I choked as I thought of him. “He’s hurt because he tried to protect me.”

  “It would appear you’ve had an effect on my brother. I’m not surprised. If it’s even one tenth of the effect you have on me, he is madly in love with you right now.”

  “You really feel that way about me?”

  “That bite on your neck was no accident.”

  “Even with Melissa here?”

  “Especially with her here,” he growled. “Why don’t you believe me?”

  “I want to believe you. You just don't have the best track record."

  "I am sorry. I have spent years lying and hiding to protect myself. It's an old habit that is hard to break."

  "But … she’s so beautiful. She’s one of your paintings come to life. What do I possibly have to offer you?”

  “Are you kidding? Don’t be ridiculous, Alex. Melissa may be pretty, but you are amazing. I’ve never met someone who understands art, really understands it, like you. I’ve never met anyone like you – you’re even more infuriatingly independent than I am. Who else but you would risk her life dashing through a pack of shifters to escape me rather than wait for me to give you some kind of excuse?”

  My face turned red. “Yeah, when you put it like that …”

  He rose, and came to stand above me, his naked body gleaming in the dim light. He stroked my chin, tilting my head up so that it faced his. “Alex, from the moment I met you, I knew there would never be another woman for me.”

  He pressed his lips to mine. My need for him washed over my body like a wave, pulling me closer, so that I sank into him, my neck craned upward, my tongue probing for his.

  My fingers traced the muscles in his chest. His naked skin felt like fire beneath me, ready to consume me alive. His tongue probed deeper into my mouth, and I knew that I had already forgiven him. Whatever questions I had about Melissa and fears I had for Marcus flew from my mind, replaced only by the warm sensations of his body pressed against mine.

  He pushed me back against the chair, his kisses growing urgent. He straddled me and began to tug off my t-shirt. His fingers grazed the skin on my stomach, and it was as if fire leapt through my skin, the flames licking and crackling around my breasts, over my mound. He pulled Melissa's t shirt over my head, tossing it on to the bar, and reached around behind me to unclip my bra. Tossing that across the room, he lowered his head over my nipple, his tongue running over the sensitive flesh, sending a delicious shiver through my whole body. He licked and suckled at my left nipple, while rolling the other one between his fingers.

  Naked now from the waist up, I pulled him against me, longing to feel the warmth of his skin on mine. His muscled arms wrapped around my body, and he lifted me up, so that I was sitting on the back of the chair, my legs open for him.

  The chair creaked below me, and toppled backward. I screamed as we fell. My back landed against the wine rack behind me. The shelves wobbled, bottles sloshing around in protest.

  Ryan grinned wickedly. “Relax,” he said. He pressed his chest to mine, pinning me against the rack. With one hand cupping the back of my neck, pushing my face upward onto his waiting mouth, he pulled open the fly of my filthy jeans with the other. I could feel wine corks jabbing into my spine.

  Still with one hand, Ryan wrestled my jeans past my hips, tearing off my new underwear with a loud SNAP. He pushed his hands under my ass cheeks and lifted me, shoving my back against the wall of bottles, and burying his face in my breasts.

  He grabbed my nipple between his teeth and bit down, hard. A squeal escaped my lips as t
he pain arced across my chest, competing for my attention against the throbbing between my legs. I could feel Ryan’s erection against my thigh, his rough treatment and wild eyes letting me know I was in for something quick and primal.

  He pulled at my nipple, his tongue swirling around the tip, softening the pain he was causing on that sensitive bud. He pulled his head away, and kissed me again, his tongue practically tearing my teeth from my mouth. He cupped my neck in his hands and forced his tongue deeper in my mouth. I pushed back with all the force I could muster, shoving my own tongue inside his mouth, stroking it over his. This only seemed to inflame him further, and his fingers squeezed my neck tighter as he tried to envelop my whole mouth in his kiss.

  I wrapped my legs around his torso, trying to pull him closer, longing to feel his enormous, stiff cock inside me. He shifted his body to acquiesce to my demands. My skin tingled with anticipation, my body arching before him, knowing it was finally going to be rewarded for those days of longing with his wild touch.

  He removed his hands from beneath my ass, and I heard the tear of a package as he hastily put it on a condom. Briefly, I wondered where he'd got it from. Does he keep a secret stash stored in the bar for wine cellar dalliances? But then, with a thrust, he entered me, and all thoughts were pushed from my mind as my passion engulfed me.

  His shaft filled me completely, pinning me against the wall as he pounded himself into me. His mouth was so tight against mine I could hardly breathe, the hunger in his eyes matching my own.

  I moaned against him as our bodies moved as one, thrusting and bucking against each other, desperate to sate our lust for each other. His fingers clenched around my ass, sending needles of pain through my body, but the pain was quickly enveloped by the sheer force of his passion.