Summer Shifter Nights

by Harmony Raines

  “Justin said I was too fat to be his mate,” I say.

  “Justin is an asshole,” Mel snaps. “You’re perfect. Don’t worry. Ginger and I are going to make sure you’re so stunning tonight that no man could possibly resist you.”

  “I was thinking of just going in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Nothing else has worked.”

  “I went to the mall and picked up a few options,” Mel says. “I’ll return anything you don’t like.”

  “You’re so sweet, but this is really too much.”

  “You’re my best friend,” Mel says. “If I had to literally learn how to sew to make you a dress for tonight, I would have. Fortunately, they were having a big summer sale, so I wasn’t forced into menial labor.”

  “God forbid.” Ginger studies her manicure as if looking for labor-induced chips.

  “Anyway, let’s get you ready for the hunt. Try on the red dress first.” Mel pulls a scarlet dress out of one bag and hands it to me.

  “Fringe?” I raise a brow.

  “It’s in season this year. Don’t question it, just try it on. We’ll be in here, rummaging through the kitchen.”

  I leave Mel and Ginger to riffle through the kitchen in search of snacks while I change into the red dress. It’s slinky, sexy, and everything I’m not. It’s way too much, but since Mel went to the trouble of buying a bunch of outfits, I’ll indulge her in a mock runway show.

  As I do my best Tyra impression through the living room, Ginger and Mel’s eyes go wide. They’re sitting on the couch surrounded by bags of chips and they’ve located my hidden stash of Ghirardelli chocolate. Wrappers already litter the coffee table.

  “Oh my God, Yayss!” Mel squeals.

  “It’s too… Um…” I try to find the right word, but I can’t come up with anything other than slutty, and I’m not about to offend her with that declaration.

  “I think it looks great,” Ginger says. “But let’s try them all. Maybe you’ll like one of the others better.”

  It takes a solid hour to make it through both bags of clothes. I have to hand it to Mel, she was thorough. She bought everything from sundresses to rompers. I’ve narrowed it down to two dresses: the red slinky one, and a white, gauzy dress covered in embroidered butterflies. I don’t want to take the second dress off. I can’t stop staring at myself in the full-length mirror near my front door. It’s not the sexiest dress I’ve ever owned, but it’s so feminine and pretty. It makes me feel beautiful.

  “This one,” I say.

  “Are you sure?” Ginger asks.

  “I still like the red one better,” Mel says before popping a tortilla chip in her mouth.

  “The red one is pretty, but it’s not me. It’s too… bold.”

  “I like the white one on you,” Ginger says. “You look good in all of them, but you have to go with the one you’re really feeling. If you don’t feel good about how you look, you won’t project confidence. Wolves will sense it and lose interest. Men love confidence. Size doesn’t matter. Confidence does.”

  “True story,” Mel says. “Look at my big ass, and I’m mated. It’s all about the swagger. Now, walk, bitch!”

  I laugh and immediately do an exaggerated runway walk back to my bedroom. Maybe it’s the wine, or being around great friends, but I feel so much better than I did a few hours ago. Hope blossoms in my chest and pushes fear aside. This is one of my last chances to find a mate, so I’d better make it good.

  My friends spend the next two hours helping me with my makeup and hair. By the time they’re done with me, I look better than I’ve ever looked in my entire life.

  “Are you sure this isn’t overselling me?” I ask. “I never look like this.”

  “You’re still you, just a better version of you,” Mel says as she sweeps a second coat of mascara onto my lashes. “We kept your makeup mostly natural anyway. Although… I still think we should go with red lips.”

  “I like the pink,” Ginger says.

  “Me too.”

  “Fine, we’ll keep the pink,” Mel says. “But take the red with you just in case you decide to change it later.”

  “Once I shift, it won’t matter.”

  “No, but it will at the pre-run cocktail party,” Mel says.

  “Trey’s hosting. You have his address, right?” Ginger asks.

  “Yep.”

  “Great! Since you’re not wearing the red dress, I’ll take it,” Mel says.

  “Mine’s in the car,” Ginger says. “Can I just change here?”

  “Sure. It’s so late now, we might as well go up together.”

  “Do you have any more candy?” Mel asks as she pokes through the pile of empty wrappers on the table.

  “No, I have something better.”

  I walk to the freezer and pull out an unopened half-gallon of cookie dough ice cream. Ginger shrieks while Mel laughs and playfully punches her in the arm. They jump up to serve themselves, giving me a moment to collect my thoughts.

  Although I couldn’t possibly look better than I do right now, I’m still nervous. I haven’t made a connection with anyone in the last ten mating runs. I’ve come close a couple of times, and I’ve had a lot of mediocre sex, but nothing phenomenal. The few men I’ve dated ended up being jerks, or boring, or just not right. Deep in my heart, I know I’ll find the right man eventually, but by the time I find him, will it be too late to save my shifter powers?

  2

  Kayla

  The longer the cocktail party rages on, the more doomed I feel. All the usual suspects are milling around in Trey’s ridiculously huge backyard. Ginger and Mel are coupled up with their mates playing beer pong and doing shots near the pool. Several other shifter couples are hanging out at the tiki bar. I’m nursing my third—no, fourth—strawberry margarita. Fifth? I don’t know. I stopped counting around the time Justin showed up with a leggy blonde who gave me a smirky death glare. I’ve been hiding underneath a huge pine tree ever since.

  The run starts at midnight. I only have to endure another fifteen minutes of this crap before I can shift. At least in wolf form, I won’t have to worry about my mascara smudging or my lipstick smearing all over my face.

  Laughter and loud conversation carries through the warm summer air. I tilt my head back and close my eyes, enjoying the sudden breeze, while wishing I were anywhere but here.

  I don’t realize anything is amiss until a sudden hush blankets the gathering. My eyes flick open and I scan the crowd. There are at least three hundred shifters in the backyard, but my attention is directed to one. The same man everyone is staring at. A stranger.

  Excitement ripples up my spine as our gazes lock. A hot rush of molten heat melts my insides and I can’t look away. He’s at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. Light from strings of tiny bulbs hung over the patio catch subtle navy highlights in his otherwise black hair. But it’s his eyes that hold me in a trance-like embrace. Shimmering onyx eyes. Deep. Mysterious. And so sexy. I’m instantly wet.

  I suck in a breath as conversation resumes. People turn their backs on him as he walks through a parting sea of bodies toward the bar. He orders a whiskey, neat. He tosses it back and asks for a second. I can’t stop staring. There’s nothing outwardly special about what he’s wearing. A black tank top and torn blue jeans. But maybe that’s it. The fact that he doesn’t feel the need to show off is enough to turn me into a puddle of rabid hormones. My wolf’s alert and sniffs the air with interest. I have no idea who he is. I’ve never seen him before. But I need to meet him.

  I quickly toss back the remaining sip of margarita in my glass. I adjust the spaghetti straps on my dress to make sure they haven’t slipped off my too-round shoulders. It’s a battle, but I get myself situated and stalk toward the mystery man. I’m less than ten feet from him when Ginger steps in front of me. The look of alarm on her face stops me cold.

  “Where are you going?” she asks in a tone that’s neither casual, not friendly. It’s a warning.

  “To get a
nother drink.”

  “You don’t want to do that.”

  “Thank God you stopped her.” Mel hurries over with the hem of her dress in her hand so she won’t trip over it.

  “Stopped me from what?”

  “Making a huge mistake,” Ginger says.

  “You’re right. I should switch to water.”

  “Not that mistake,” Mel says, before casually jerking her head toward the stranger. “That one.”

  “You know him?”

  “Everybody knows him. That’s Devin James. He’s bad news.”

  “Really bad,” Ginger says.

  “Why haven’t I heard of him?”

  “Because no one is supposed to talk about ferals.”

  “He’s feral?”

  “Can’t you tell just by looking at him?” Mel asks, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

  “I didn’t notice.”

  Ginger cocks her head to one side and narrows her eyes, while Mel shakes her head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Mel says.

  “I was just getting another drink,” I say innocently.

  “I’ll get it for you.” Ginger takes off before I can stop her.

  “He’s not for you.”

  “What’s his story?”

  “Devin James went feral on the night of the full moon just after his eighteenth birthday. He attacked several other wolves and left them for dead in the forest. You know the cliffs just underneath electric peak?”

  “Yeah. It’s forbidden territory.”

  “That’s where Devin left them.”

  “Why would he attack another shifter? And why haven’t I heard this story before? My dad never told me about this. He just told me never to go near the cliffs. He never said why.”

  “Now you know.”

  “Wolves don’t go feral that late in life,” I say. “If a wolf is going to go feral, he’ll do it at his first shift. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t know why he’s different,” Mel says. “But trust me, he’s not someone you want to talk to.”

  I let my gaze drift over her shoulder toward the bar. Devin’s gone. I try to discretely scan the crowd for him, but Mel’s onto me. She takes a step to one side to block my view.

  “I mean it, Kayla.” Her tone is dark, and worried. “Stay away from him. He’s dangerous.”

  “I will.”

  Ginger returns with a fresh margarita. I try to sip, but end up sucking half of it down so fast that I end up with brain freeze.

  “Ouch!” I rub my forehead.

  “Brain freeze will get you every time,” Ginger says. “I have to go find Ben, but in case Mel didn’t make it clear, you really need to stay away from Devin. Okay?”

  “Yes, mom.”

  “I’m only warning you because I love you.”

  “Me too,” Mel says.

  “I love you guys too. Now get lost so I can meet some men,” I say with far more bravado than I feel.

  The second they leave me, my chest deflates. My fingers tremble as I lift the glass to my lips. Just over the rim, I spot him again. Devin. He’s standing underneath the tree. My tree. And his gaze is fixated on me. I want to look away. I should look away. But I can’t.

  He’s magnetic. Dark energy swirls around him like a vortex, sucking me in. I’m entranced by his chiseled jawline and shadowy beard. And his lips. Full red lips the color of blood. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a vampire. But that’s ridiculous. Everybody knows vampires don’t exist.

  I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t explain. He’s hypnotic in his singular fixation on me. No one else has given me a second glance tonight, but Devin can’t stop staring. I know I should listen to Ginger and Mel, but something’s happening to my soul. The spark of connection I’ve been waiting for my entire life is here. How can I ignore it?

  I’m almost to the tree when the mating run horn blares through the crowd. I freeze as everyone starts removing their clothes. Since we’re all shifters, there’s no real modesty. We’ve been through enough runs that we’ve all seen each other naked before. After my third mating run, the novelty ended. I also stopped being so self-conscious. But tonight’s different.

  I slip behind a tree before sliding out of my dress. I hang it on a branch, so it won’t get wet with dew at sunrise.

  A shaft of moonlight shimmers across my arm. Fur sprouts along the trail before spreading to envelope my arm. Searing pain shoots down my spine. My bones crack and bend and twist, transforming me into my wolf form. My hands become paws with sharp claws. My nose elongates into a snout, overwhelming my sense of smell with the scent of other shifters.

  On all fours, I toss back my head and howl with the others. The mating run starts as wolves of every shape, size, and color streak into the forest. There aren’t any other people for miles around, so we don’t fear hunters during the run. There’s nothing to fear. Instead, the pure, unadulterated, intrinsic need to mate takes over and pushes me to run with the others.

  Freedom streaks through my veins. My paws pound cool earth and kick up pine needles in my wake. My fur billows in the wind and my tongue lolls out. I should keep it in my mouth and at least attempt to appear somewhat dignified, but I don’t care. The only time I really feel alive is when I’m in my wolf form.

  After racing through the forest to burn off the excess energy caused by the shift, I slow and scent the other wolves. I detect several wolves I’ve mated with before, but I have zero interest in repeating the process with any of them. I know I shouldn’t be doing it, but I’m searching for one wolf in particular. Devin. I don’t know his scent, but I can tell the difference between male and female scents, so that will help narrow the search. I have all night to find him. I know I should listen to Ginger and Mel, but I have to know if my wolf has any desire to mate with him. If I don’t at least try, I’ll never know, and I’ll always wonder what could have happened if I wasn’t afraid.

  An hour passes with no sign of Devin. I leap onto a rotting log and gaze out across an open meadow. Moonlight illuminates several couples already in their human form in various states of mating. When I first started running with the wolves, I’d stop and watch the others, looking for tips or tricks so that I could be a good mate. Then I realized, once I decided to mate, nature would take over and I’d be driven by pure instinct.

  I know it’s kind of naughty, but I still like to watch sometimes. It’s rare to catch a male with two females, but there are three naked bodies twisted in an interesting ménage in the center of the meadow and I can’t look away.

  That’s when I feel it. Someone watching me.

  I whip around and spot a sleek black wolf standing in front of a tree less than ten feet away. Onyx eyes shine in the darkness, as if drawing molecules of light directly from the moon. The wolf cocks his head slightly, as if trying to figure me out. He hasn’t approached to scent me. He’s waiting. I don’t even have to move any closer to know it’s him.

  I should run away. Feral wolves are dangerous, unpredictable, and deadly, but I can’t summon the strength to move.

  He stalks forward with slow deliberation. A shiver ripples through my fur. A rush of desire pins my paws to the earth. Even if I want to run, I can’t. Not even as he sniffs the air directly next to my ear. Not even as he circles behind to sniff every inch of my body.

  His scent curls into my nose to drug me. I lose my footing, stumbling forward as my body clenches with lust. My tongue hangs out. I pant uncontrollably. No wolf has ever made me want with a longing that cuts straight to my soul.

  And I haven’t even touched him.

  He returns to stand directly in front of me. Less than a foot separates us. The moment his nose touches mine, I release the mating howl. He responds with a howl loud enough to shake the tree branches around us. Pine needles rain down as I shift back into my human form. I brush them from my hair as I watch him shift.

  Long, sleek muscles stretch as he returns to his full height. Washboard abs ripple w
ith receding fur. His chest flexes as his arms shift back and hands replace his paws. Every inch of his perfection is on full display, including the biggest cock I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s almost inhuman.

  Thick veins form a network along the sides of his shaft. He’s at least ten inches long, maybe more, and his girth… I shiver. There’s no way I can’t take all of him. Even this turned on, it’s impossible. He’s too big, too thick, and way out of my league.

  “I’m Devin.” His voice rumbles through my chest, tightening my nipples, and leaving me trembling.

  “Kayla.”

  “Come here.”

  He doesn’t move, instead, making me go to him. He’s a man in control, a man used to getting whatever he wants. The kind of man who will fuck me all night, then leave me cold and alone in the morning. I know the type, but right now, I don’t care. He’s six feet of virility and I’m in heat.

  I prowl toward him, fully aware of the way his gaze sweeps across my naked curves. His onyx eyes darken with desire. His lips part and a puff of air is forced out, as if he’s lost his breath because of me. Me! As if that were even possible. But a girl can dream.

  I want to pounce, to devour him with my lips, and teeth, and tongue, but I hold back. I trail my fingertips across his shoulders, circling behind him, playing, teasing.

  He growls.

  Silvery laughter burst from my lips. I love that he’s given me the power to do whatever I want. Most shifters simply pounce after the mating howls transform them back into their human form, but not Devin. He’s patient, amused. A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his full, sensual lips.

  I brush the tips of my nipples across his back before circling around to run my hands across his chest. His head dips, as if he wants to kiss me, but I demure away and his lips catch my throat instead.

  All pretense melts away as his mouth finds my delicate flesh. His arms encircle my body. He pulls me hard against him. The length of his cock presses against my soft belly, reminding me that he’s already hard. Already desperate to claim me—at least for tonight.

  I know this won’t go any further than one mating cycle, but I don’t care. His lips are everywhere: on the hollow of my throat, the curve of my collarbone, against my earlobe.