Summer Shifter Nights

by Harmony Raines

  Joy.

  Quentin lumbered with easy grace yet deliberate strength right into the midst of all the wolves, his huge form moving with unerring purpose as he headed right for her. A bear shifter, alone among the wolves.

  “Wow,” Megan breathed beside her. “That’s pretty hot, Abby. And it’s all for you. You sure he’s not the one we were talking about the other day?” Her tone was pointed, but kind.

  Abby swallowed hard, staring as the guy she couldn’t get out of her head bore down on her like a freight train. As he came toward her, his long, shaggy dark brown hair topping his sexier-than-hell eyes, the mouth she wanted to feel whisper over her skin, brand her every inch with its kisses, the beard she delighted to feel each time he nuzzled it in-between her legs, Abby felt the very air seem to settle into a charged, expectant harsh.

  Into the wild, tight silence, Quentin drew up to within a mere foot of her, practically causing her nerve endings to burst into flame just from his electrifying presence. Without waiting another second, he crushed her to his chest and claimed her mouth with his. Startled at first for a split second, angry at his audacity in showing up here when he knew it was a wolf thing, she still couldn’t help herself from almost immediately melting into him. It was Quentin, after all. Tall, strong, shaggy-haired, rough and tumble and just—himself. Unashamedly, unreservedly his bear shifter self.

  She fell into his kiss as naturally as she breathed air. Feasting on her like she was the last drink he would ever take, like she was the most delicious thing he would ever taste, Quentin kissed Abby in front of the whole pack till she felt boneless and senseless from it.

  When he finally released her, she just stood there, staring at him, legs shaking and fire banking deep inside her. Hot, bright, and focused on him.

  Only him. Angry, yes. But also filled with an unmistakable lust.

  Dammit.

  “I’m here for the hunter’s moon run,” Quentin said, the deep, dark rumble of his words carrying to each corner of the meadow, although he didn’t take his eyes off of Abby. “I’m here to join in the hunt. Right next to this woman.” He lifted his hands toward her, palms up, the move somehow screaming pure alpha male possessiveness. “Right next to Abby Kenyon. Because,” his voice snarled out in a booming growl, turning around so she was tucked behind him as he swept his glance over all the other shifters there, “she’s mine.”

  Quentin stood in front of Abby, arms crossed in front of his massive chest as he surveyed the wolf shifters around him. He probably looked like some kind of caveman, shown up to grab his woman by the hair and drag her away to his lair, but at the moment he didn’t really care.

  Abby was his mate, dammit. He knew it, her wolf knew it, she knew it deep inside even if she wasn’t ready to admit it. Just like he’d told her earlier today, no way in hell was he going to let her participate in this crazy wolf run without him. He was going to show her, and everyone here, that he was the one for her. The only one.

  He was a silvertip grizzly bear shifter, surrounded by hundreds of wolves. If they wanted to, despite his size and strength, they could easily rip him to shreds simply due to their sheer numbers, just as Cortez had pointed out. It didn’t matter. He would fight to the death for Abby if he had to. He didn’t know much about wolf pack law. But they sure were about to get a taste of bear shifter law if it had to come to that.

  As the dual shocks of his appearance and his kiss must’ve worn off, Abby stepped around from behind him, tugging at him with one arm and thwapping him with her other. He looked down at her sexy, adorably furious face with the snapping blue-green eyes. They were ringed with a bright glow, a sure sign that her wolf was rising hard and fast in her. Though he kept his features settled into an expression that told the wolves around him don’t mess with me, Quentin smiled inside. His sexy little mate was a hell of a little she-devil.

  One of the many things he loved about her.

  “Quentin!” She finally found her voice. A little ragged, a lot confused, bound with anger as well as what he was pretty sure was excitement, it raced over him like heated little kisses. “What on earth are you doing? You can’t just come here like this. Acting like a—doing what you—I mean, kissing me, and then—” Her voice sputtered to a halt, though she still ineffectually tried to drag him away. To where, he had no idea.

  His heart suddenly thumped out of whack again as he realized just what she was trying to do. His sweet, sexy little she-devil of a mate was trying to protect him. She was trying to protect him, an enormous grizzly bear shifter, king of the woods, from her pack of wolves.

  His heart swelled, about bursting in his chest from pride.

  She was going to make a hell of a mate. That is, as long as he could convince her of the truth of that fact.

  Quentin sensed the tension in the glen sharpening with every moment. Then a male voice spoke. Quiet, measured, collected.

  “You are welcomed here, silvertip shifter.”

  The soft voice carried across the meadow with a potency Quentin suspected had to do with some crazy old wolf shifter stuff that he didn’t understand, and didn’t need to. Clearly, it came from an alpha. Despite the matter-of-fact tone, not to mention that nobody here could claim to be his alpha, Quentin sensed tremendous power emanating from the voice. Well, that was damned impressive. He sharply turned his head to look for the source he instinctively knew was the alpha wolf of all alpha wolves.

  Silently, with not a watchful eye leaving Quentin, the small, tight clusters of shifters parted like smooth water to allow the male wolf who had spoken to easily stroll across the meadow toward Quentin. The man was tall, rangy, and definitely a savvy, cagey old wolf. As he came closer, Quentin could see silver strands in the dark hair. Wolf shifters could live a hell of a long time. Looking at this one, he guessed the man’s age had to be at least a few hundred years. Maybe more. But no threat emanated from the shifter, even though every single wolf he passed seem deferent to him. Abby closed her mouth and stopped tugging at Quentin, giving the approaching shifter a single quick glance before dropping her eyes. Even so, she stepped around so that she was slightly in front of Quentin.

  Still protecting him.

  This alpha wolf wasn’t challenging him, though. Quentin was in the man’s house, so to speak. He would play by the same rules.

  Keeping his voice as respectful as possible, though his bear rumbled and huffed just beneath his words, Quentin replied, “Thank you. My name is Quentin Walker. I come from Deep Hollow, over the mountain. And I want to join your hunter’s moon run tonight.”

  The approaching wolf studied him as he drew closer, coming to a casual stop several feet away. Spreading his feet about shoulder width apart, casually tucking his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants to indicate he wasn’t offering any particular challenge, the alpha nodded. “My name is Channing Bardou, and I am alpha of the Black Mesa pack. I know who you are. I know everyone in the Walker clan. Your parents and I go quite a ways back.”

  Despite himself, Quentin couldn’t help the soft huff of surprise that left his lips. Even his bear stopped restlessly pacing as Quentin focused his entire attention on the wolf in front of him. Well, almost his entire attention. Part of him remained utterly aware of the fact that Abby stood next to him. Standing her ground with him, even in the face of her own alpha.

  “I see,” he said after a long moment. “Then I guess you’ll understand that my stated intentions for being here are honest. I’m here for Abby. She’s mine, and she will run with me tonight. Only me.”

  Quentin’s voice fell into the silent clearing with the ring of authenticity he knew everyone here would recognize. Shifters weren’t mind readers, but they were damned good at knowing when someone spoke the truth. Quentin meant his words with every molecule of his being. He was here for Abby, and that was all.

  The older wolf, Channing, regarded him for another long moment, quietly assessing him in what was still a nonthreatening manner. Quentin had to admit that if he wasn’t here for Abb
y, he might feel a little uncomfortable under that gaze. Okay, fine. He’d probably feel damned edgy with those eyes pinned on him. But he wasn’t here to pick a fight. He was here for his mate, no matter how that would be received. He knew what he wanted. He’d never been more sure of anything in his life. Quietly, he waited for the wolf pack’s alpha to come to whatever conclusion needed to be reached.

  After another long silence, the alpha shifted his mild gaze to Abby. “Abby Kenyon,” he said softly, just the sound of his voice jerking her head up to look at him. Even so, she only managed one quick, direct glance at him before she moved her gaze to settle in the general vicinity of her alpha’s shoulders. Quentin understood what that meant. In wolf hierarchy, the most dominant wolf controlled the others to the extent that looking directly into a more dominant wolf’s eyes was viewed as a challenge.

  Abby knew her place in the pack, and she recognized the power her alpha wielded. Though he bristled a bit inside, Quentin stayed silent. If he wanted Abby to be with him, he knew she had to play by the rules of her wolf pack, the only way she knew how. While he’d done his part in showing up for her—and dammit, but his little brother had been right about that—this part wasn’t his own battle.

  Even so, the alpha’s next words startled Quentin as well as apparently every other wolf there.

  “Do you fully understand why this man is here, Abby? That this bear shifter has come to claim you as his mate?”

  A low hiss whispered through some of the surrounding wolves, but not a single one of them said more. Unperturbed, the alpha continued.

  “That he wishes to prove to not only you, but to the pack, and even himself that he is strong enough to take you on as his?”

  Quentin’s jaw opened a little bit as he stared at the alpha. The next words shocked him even more.

  “And do you understand, Quentin Walker,” now the alpha’s inscrutable gaze shifted over to Quentin, the power behind his eyes so quietly intense that Quentin actually rocked a bit on his feet, even though he still stood right where he belonged next to Abby, “that not only must you prove this to her, but that she must prove that she is also worthy of being your mate?”

  Well, damn. He hadn’t thought about it that way.

  Apparently, neither had Abby. She drew in a shaky breath and looked at Quentin. Before she could say anything, though, the alpha turned his head to the eastern horizon where light began to gently spill into the clearing.

  “Ah.” Satisfaction rippled through alpha Channing’s voice. “The hunter’s moon rises. Come. It it time for all of us to run under its light.”

  With that, he looked one more time at Quentin and Abby. Nodding at them, he then threw back his head. The deep, rich timbre of his wolf’s voice loosed through his throat in a full-bodied howl that was echoed by the other wolves there.

  Quentin set his jaw in determination. Ready or not, the hunter’s moon run was about to start.

  6

  Abby couldn’t tear her eyes away from Quentin. Her big, sexy, burly bear shifter, standing in front of her, surrounded by wolves. Their excited, high-spirited howls and yips in answer to the alpha’s opening cries swirled up through the crisp October night air as the heavy orange glow of the very full moon slowly rose on the horizon.

  Despite the eerie sound of hundreds of throats, both human and wolf, unleashing their wild animal sounds, Quentin didn’t waver for a second. He stayed planted in front of her, ready for whatever came next.

  Ready for her.

  Taking a deep breath, Abby took a step back from Quentin and quickly began stripping off her clothes. Quentin stared at her, a startled yet pleased expression coming onto his face.

  “Really,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting up in a grin.

  But Abby shook her head at him. “You heard my alpha,” she said in a soft, low tone. The husky sound of her wolf rippled through her voice as she went on. “On this hunter’s moon run, you have to catch me. And wolves are fast. Really fast. You’re going to have to work hard for me, Quentin Walker,” she added, her voice deadly serious.

  As she let the last of her clothes drop to the cold ground, stepping away from them and standing before him utterly naked, Abby smiled, letting her wolf’s teeth gleam in the dark as she shifted into her wild, four-legged shape.

  “I know you can understand me in this form,” she said in her pure wolf’s voice. All around the glen, human forms were shifting into wolf, baying and howling and setting off in all directions to run. No one paid the two of them any more mind, having been clearly warned by the Black Mesa pack alpha that the decision of what to do with Quentin was up to Abby, and Abby alone. “Are you ready for this?”

  Quentin’s response was to open his mouth and roar. In a flash, he let his grizzly bear burst over him, ripping and shredding through his clothes. He shook them off his furry shape, his massive jaws working as he bellowed again. Several of the wolves paused and looked at him, instinctively answering in snarls and growls and howls. The low, commanding voice of the alpha rose above them all, urging them to their own runs. To their own hunts.

  Leaving Abby and Quentin alone.

  “You’d better be fast, my gorgeous little wolf,” Quentin said, stepping toward her on his massive paws. “I intend on catching you.”

  With a delighted yip at the challenge in his voice, Abby turned tail and raced away, dashing after the streaming forms of wolves as they spread up and over the mountain into the chilly forest as the moon slowly rose in the sky above them all.

  As she raced through the flashes of stark white bark of the aspen trees and the dark, tall shapes of the pines that made up the bulk of the forest, she felt Quentin at her heels. The ground shook behind her where he ran. He was fast. Really fast. She hadn’t expected him to be that fast. They’d run together before in their animal shapes, playing and racing through the beautiful lands by his family’s property, but they’d never been so focused. They’d never been at such a dead run before, with one goal in mind: for Quentin to catch Abby.

  She sensed it was a goal he was taking more seriously than anything ever before. The knowledge spurred her on, even as she flung her head up for a short, sharp howl that stabbed through the trees along with the howls of many wolves both near and far. Behind her, Quentin bellowed the roar of a grizzly bear, the noise of it reverberating through the same air to lend a deep bass note beneath the howls of the wolves. A brief silence greeted his unexpected sound before the multiple choruses of many wolves began again. Abby smiled as she raced along. Quentin was staking his claim on her. He was warning off all the others.

  He was warning them off of his mate.

  As she ran, Abby felt her human side blending into her wolf side, relaxing and accepting and enjoying the deep knowledge she finally began to embrace. The knowledge that Quentin was indeed her mate. The knowledge that he could be a permanent part of her life.

  If, her human said with an impertinent sniff, he can catch me.

  Letting her tongue loll out in a wolfish grin, Abby added a staccato yip yip yip as she leapt and raced through the trees, leading Quentin ever onward and up the mountain. Through the far reaches of the forest, far beyond where humans would dare to go at night. Far beyond where any of the other wolves on this cold October run would go.

  Leading him to her.

  Miles had passed before Abby began to slow in front of Quentin. He admired her lithe shape racing around tree trunks, under bushes, over downed logs and scatters of boulders. In his bear shape, his sense of smell was superior even to her acute wolf senses. The scent of his mate running in front of him, leading him to her, was so crisp and clear he felt as if he had the strength of twenty bears.

  He would never stop until he could catch her. His mate. His Abby.

  Abby flashed around an enormous boulder that gleamed faintly in the moonlight, disappearing behind it. With a roar, Quentin put on another burst of speed, barreling around the enormous granite boulder, thundering over the ground as he tried to catch up wi
th her. But he raced into a tiny, empty meadow filled with nothing but the sharp, clear bathe of moonlight. Slamming himself to a halt in the middle of it, his claws leaving deep gouges in the earth, Quentin lifted his head as he opened his mouth in a roar, simultaneously bellowing out his cry and searching the chilly night for his mate.

  There. Her sweetness called to him from the left. Snapping his head around, he looked into the shadows between the trees. Sitting there, panting, was the light, beautiful shape of his she-wolf. He paused for a long moment, tipping his head in the other direction as if he wasn’t sure where she was. Lifting his nose a bit more as if he’d caught another scent, he moved off to the right instead, pointedly sniffing in the direction of the trees directly opposite from her. Moving as quietly as he could, he listened as hard as he was able. Yes. She was following him into the middle of the glen, probably planning a surprise leap onto his back to startle him with her agile wolf ways.

  He’d see about that.

  Pausing almost at the other side of the tiny meadow, still ostentatiously sniffing in that direction, Quentin waited until it sounded like Abby was about halfway across the glen. Far more swiftly than he knew she expected, he whirled on his powerful hind legs, standing up on them and roaring his might into the moonlit glade.

  Shocked, she shied back from where her she had indeed been right in the middle of the glen, her teeth baring and snapping her surprise. Quentin let himself stay up on his hind legs for a long moment, giving his saucy little love a good glimpse of how strong and powerful and brave he was. Then he dropped back down to all fours, the ground thundering beneath him as he landed. With a shake of his massive head that rippled over the huge hump of his shoulders and across the dark cinnamon and gold of his coat, Quentin shifted back into his human shape.