He nodded. “I’d expect no less.” He stretched his jean-clad legs under the table and began. “If a werewolf bites a human, odds are they’ll die. There is only a miniscule chance the person will make the conversion into a werewolf. No one knows why some humans survive when about ninety-nine percent die.” He shrugged. “We’re in the dark about that. No one has ever figured out why it happens. And it’s not an easy transition. There’s a lot of pain involved and the newly made werewolf will never be quite as strong as one born.”
Gwen swallowed hard. Scratch the idea of becoming a werewolf. She hadn’t even been fully aware she’d been even thinking about it as a possibility until Gator had mentioned there was some truth to the myth that humans could be turned into a werewolf with a bite from one. Stupid of her to even consider it really. After all, she barely knew Jacque. And for all his talk of his wolf recognizing her, what did that really mean? After all, his life span was much longer than hers. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of possibly living for two hundred years.
“So you really have to be born a werewolf?” She directed her question to Armand who joined them at the table.
“Yes. I’ve only heard of one conversion in our pack and, according to pack lore, that was about six hundred years ago.”
“How about silver? Does that kill a werewolf.” All the legends she’d read recommended that as a method of killing one.
Jacque snorted. “We have more of an allergic reaction to silver. It will slow us down, but it won’t kill us.”
“Then what’s the best way to kill a werewolf?” It was a grisly conversation, but Gwen needed all the information she could get.
“Just like a human, you break his neck, suffocate him, remove his heart or chop off his head and he dies.”
Gwen swallowed hard. “Or shoot him.”
Jacque inclined his head in agreement. “Or shoot him, but you need to get him in the heart. Anywhere else will just slow him down or piss him off.”
It was a lot to digest, and Gwen realized just how lucky she’d been to survive the attack.
A bell dinged and Gator opened the oven door and pulled out the rolls. Their yeasty, warm smell filled the air and made her stomach grumble. He dumped them into a large wicker basket, brought them to the table and offered her one. “Ladies first.”
His offer caused her to smile. All of them treated her as though she was special, not something she was used to. “Thank you. They look and smell delicious.” She took one, tossing it from one hand to the other before dropping it onto her plate. It was still hot, which made it perfect for melting butter. She broke apart the roll and slathered some creamy butter on it. Unwilling to wait until it cooled, she brought it to her mouth and bit.
“Ohmygod,” she moaned. “This is delicious.” It was only then she became aware of the silence around her. All the men were watching her eat. Self-conscious under their scrutiny, she put the roll back on her side plate and grabbed her napkin to wipe her mouth.
Cole snorted. “Don’t give chef boy here any ideas. His head is swollen enough as it is.”
Gator grabbed the towel from around his waist and flicked it at Cole, who deftly caught it. “Can I help it if I’m superior to all you uncouth, uncultured dogs?”
“Superior?” Cole tilted his head to one side as if studying Gator. “It’s more like you’re a pampered pooch.”
The tense mood was broken when they all laughed. Gwen sensed this was a familiar argument between the men when Gator stuck up his middle finger. She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed along with them. It gave her a cozy feeling, a sense of belonging, even if it was a false one.
“Say what you will.” Gator started filling bowls with the thick, rich chili. “But you’d be complaining in a heartbeat if I stopped cooking for you louts. You’d starve to death in a few weeks or kill one another because you were sick of eating raw meat.”
Cole rose from his leisurely sprawl, went to the stove and took the first two bowls. He set one of them in front of her and the other before Jacque before going back for more. “I bow to your culinary expertise.” Cole gave Gator a mock bow.
“Of course you do,” he solemnly intoned. “It’s a credit to your intelligence.” Gator set his bowl on the table and sat beside Gwen. “Eat up.”
Gwen did just that. She ate an entire bowl of the chili even though she was sure it took a layer off the inside of her mouth it was so hot. A glass of milk appeared by her plate and she gave Jacque a smile of thanks, but he wasn’t even looking at her. Once again, his actions seemed automatic. She needed something and he provided it.
The rolls proved irresistible so she had two more of those, both smothered in butter. When she finally sat back she was pleasantly full. The men all went for seconds and, in Cole’s case, thirds. They certainly could eat, but then again, they were all big men.
“Do you need to eat more than humans do?” She blurted out the question and immediately wished she could call it back. The atmosphere was relaxed and she didn’t want to do anything to change it.
But none of them skipped a beat. “Our metabolism runs faster and hotter,” Armand answered. “We need to eat more and we snack a lot too. Changing into our wolf form takes even more energy and we’re always hungry after that.”
“Speaking of that,” Jacque sat forward, commanding all their attention. “Gwen needs to see you all in your wolf form. When we’re attacked again, she’ll need to be aware of who is friend and who is foe.”
She noted he didn’t say if they were attacked, but when. They were all expecting it. It was only a matter of time. “I need to practice shooting too. I got lucky before. I’d never fired a weapon before.”
Four sets of male eyes swung her way, all filled with various amounts of disbelief. It was Jacque who broke the silence. “You’d never fired a weapon before you shot the werewolf who attacked you?”
She shook her head. “No. But it didn’t seem too hard at the time. I just pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.”
Jacque pushed back his chair. “You’re going to have your first lesson.”
“Now?” She really wanted a cup of coffee first.
“Yes, now.” His brows lowered and he scowled. “You got lucky. We can’t take that kind of chance again.” He disappeared down the hallway.
Gwen sighed and toyed with the handle of her spoon.
“Don’t worry. Jacque’s a good teacher.” She appreciated Armand trying to ease her trepidation. She knew she needed lessons, wanted them, just not now. She wasn’t quite ready to leave the comfort of the table. She’d been enjoying herself.
Jacque returned with the gun, a spare clip and a box of ammunition. “Come on. We’ll set up out back.”
“You just want to get out of doing dishes,” Gator quipped as he rose and began clearing the table.
“There is that,” Jacque agreed. “When you’re done, come out back. You can all shift so Gwen can see your wolves.”
Jacque put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the back door. It was the first time she’d been outside since she arrived and she stopped and took a deep breath, inhaling the clean air perfumed with the scents of pine and earth. The mountains in the distance were breathtakingly beautiful. The sun was already starting to sink in the west and wouldn’t be in the sky much longer, but she could get in about twenty minutes or so of practice before it went down.
Jacque set the extra ammunition on the railing and began to explain how the gun worked. He kept it simple, showing her the safety, how to remove and insert the magazine into the gun. “This is a 9mm semi-automatic. I’ll show you how to reload the clip later. For now, I’ll make sure you have an extra one on hand at all times.” He waited patiently as she went through the steps under his watchful eye. When he was satisfied, he motioned to a tree about thirty feet away. “That’s your target.”
Gwen raised her arms, automatically using her left hand to cradle her right. Jacque stepped behind her, correcting her hold and st
ance slightly. “Remember to take your time and aim. Better to get one good shot off than a half dozen bad ones.”
“Gotcha.” Gwen took a deep breath and slowly released it. Then she fired. The gun kicked back more than she remembered. Of course, her adrenaline had been flowing and things happening so fast during the attack, all she remembered was continuing to fire while getting out of the way of the creature until he’d finally dropped.
The bullet missed the tree. She scowled, rolled her shoulders and tried again. And again and again until she had no ammo left. She managed to hit the tree with the last two bullets. “I did it,” she crowed. She put the safety on like he’d shown her and set the gun down on the railing.
Jacque whirled her around and kissed her, his lips claiming hers. The smell from the gunpowder mingled with the crisp air and loamy scent of the earth. Gwen clasped Jacque’s shoulders and went up onto her toes to deepen the kiss. Her success at firing the gun made her want to celebrate.
Their tongues tangled, dancing in and out of each other’s mouths, teasing and touching. He tasted spicy like the chili he’d eaten for dinner, but beneath it was the hot taste of man, of her man. The thought gave her pause, but then he angled his head and deepened the kiss, drawing a long moan from her. The man knew how to kiss. He took his time, withdrawing and returning until her lips were moist and tingly and goose bumps ran down her arms.
It was Jacque who broke their kiss. He nuzzled her ear. “We’re about to have company.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jacque didn’t know whether to curse his friends or thank them. The kiss with Gwen was getting out of hand. His cock was as hard as a spike and he wanted to fuck her again, even though he knew it was too soon. He needed to be more concerned about her health, making sure she rested and ate and learned how to use the gun. Finding out that she’d never used a weapon before had turned his blood cold. He wanted her familiar with the 9mm, as it would be her last line of defense when the attack came.
He pulled his mouth away from hers, reluctantly releasing her succulent lips. “We’re about to have company.”
He could sense the other men coming around the side of the cabin from the front. And they were no longer men, but gigantic wolves. Louis had joined them, so four large wolves padded silently on the grassy yard. Gwen stiffened in his arms and turned. Not willing to lose his connection with her, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back to rest against his chest.
“Oh my.” Her voice was low and shaky and she trembled in his embrace.
“They won’t hurt you,” he hurried to reassure her. He tried to see this from her point of view and winced. The men she’d eaten dinner with had suddenly turned into something out of a horror movie.
“I know that,” she snapped, irritation plain in her voice. “They’re incredible.”
Jacque growled and pulled her closer, not liking the admiration in her voice. She patted his arm in reassurance, making him feel like an idiot.
“Can you tell them apart?” It was important for Gwen to recognize all of them. In any fight she’d need to know who she could trust and who she needed to shoot.
“Let me see.” She tilted her head to one side and he leaned down and rubbed his nose against her hair, inhaling the floral scent of her shampoo. It mixed with the woodsy scent of his soap and sent a rush of possessiveness rushing through him. He liked that she’d used his soap. His erection grew, pressing against the small of her back. She caught her breath but didn’t move away from him. If anything, he thought she might have pushed back slightly to get closer.
He gazed out over the four men he called brothers, even though only one of them was his littermate. Who their parents were didn’t matter. A bond even greater than blood united them—love and respect. It still made his heart swell to know these men believed in the same dream he did, had left their home and the LaForge pack in Louisiana to start a new life, a new pack with him.
“The big one, the one that’s lighter than the others. That has to be Cole.”
He nodded, letting his chin rub the top of her head. “Very good. Watch the eyes. You can recognize the eyes.”
“Good to know.” She fell silent for a moment, studying the others as the sun sank below the treetops, casting the clearing in shadows. “There are two black wolves. They would be Gator and Armand.” She leaned forward in his arms and finally pointed to her right. “I think that one is Gator.”
“Why?” It was important for her to distinguish features.
She hesitated but then continued in almost a whisper. “Because the one on the left has scars on his face. I didn’t think Armand’s wolf form would have the same injury as his human form.”
Jacque exhaled slowly. “It was a very bad injury, chère. His wolf was injured so severely he could not heal all the way. That is why he has a scar on his face in his human form as well.”
“What happened?”
He gave her a comforting squeeze. “That is Armand’s story to tell.”
She nodded. “I recognized Louis from where I saw him change before. The brown colors of his fur and his eyes are distinctive.”
Jacque knew the time had come for him to show Gwen his wolf, the other side of himself, the primal beast. She’d seen his wolf briefly during the attack, but he wasn’t certain how well she remembered him. It was vital she recognized all of them easily.
He kissed the top of her head and stepped away. “Now it is my turn.”
Gwen shivered when Jacque dropped his arms from around her. He’d been holding the chill of the evening away with the heat from his large body. She put out her hands and gripped one of the porch posts for support. The yard was filled with four magnificent creatures. Wolves, but more than wolves.
They were incredibly big, much larger than a normal wolf. And although wolves were said to be quite intelligent, there was something more in the eyes of these creatures, something human. It was still hard to make her logical mind accept what lay before her very eyes. But there was no denying the evidence.
The more she studied them, the more familiar they became. Their personalities shone through no matter what form they took. Cole was indeed the largest of them all. In fact, he was huge and had to weigh in at three hundred pounds, probably more. He was silent and somehow more still than the others, but she had no doubt he was ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.
The scars on Armand’s face came down across the left side of his muzzle and went upward to just below his eye. She winced at the thought of how much that must have hurt. She wondered how he’d gotten it. His black fur was as shiny as his hair and the chocolate-brown eyes filled with compassion and understanding.
Gator also had black fur but his eyes were a startling blue. And even though he was sitting, the wolf seemed to be vibrating with barely contained energy, just like the man.
She easily recognized Louis from where she’d watch him shift before. His brown fur wasn’t one color but many shades of brown. And his eyes watched her with an unblinking stare that was slightly unnerving.
She heard the swish of Jacque’s clothing behind her and then he walked naked to the center of the yard. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Naked, he was even more imposing than when he was fully clothed, which really should be impossible. There was no sign of vulnerability to be found as he faced her.
She blinked, trying not to look below his waist but failing miserably. She knew he’d been aroused when he was standing behind her, had felt the evidence pressing hard against her back. Sure enough, his shaft was still semi-aroused and twitched when she glanced at it.
He was impressive even partially aroused. Her inner muscles clenched and went liquid. She knew what it felt like to have all of him inside her, plunging in an out of her slick core. Her breathing got faster and ragged as the memory surrounded her.
“Gwen.” His voice interrupted her thoughts and pulled her gaze upward. “Watch.”
She swallowed hard, ignoring the heated pulse slamming through her
body and concentrated solely on Jacque’s face. The sun sank further, making the yard dimmer by the moment, but with the rising moon and the ambient light from the kitchen, she could easily see him—the harsh planes of his face, his prominent, beak-like nose, his full lips and golden-brown eyes. His features were familiar to her now. She could easily close her eyes and conjure his face.
She’d seen him in his wolf form once before when he’d come to rescue her during the fight. But her memory was cloudy at best due to her fatigue and headache. Now, she was eager to really see him, to watch the process unfold.
A rippling began beneath Jacque’s flesh. Gwen swallowed hard and dug her fingers into the wooden post. Her legs quivered as she watched a spectacle she knew few outside their species had ever seen. Funny, but she no longer expected them to kill her because of that.
No, in her heart she knew these men would protect her and would never harm her. The wolves from their former pack were another problem all together. They were merciless killers and would do their best to make sure she never had the opportunity to tell anyone about them. She could have told them their secret was safe with her, but she knew they’d never believe her. No way would she put Jacque and his pack at risk.
Jacque made the shift quickly. Bones cracked and reformed, his shape changing. Thick muscles were no longer covered with flesh, but with fur. His jaw elongated and his skull flattened. In a matter of seconds, it was done. So fast, yet she had the impression he could shift faster but had slowed down the process for her. She couldn’t say why she thought this, only that she did.
The only wolf larger than him was Cole. Jacque was absolutely magnificent. His fur seemed to contain every shade of brown, ranging from bronze to bittersweet chocolate. He studied her intently. Watching. Waiting for her reaction.
Gwen pushed away from the post, straightened and walked down the two stairs that led from the porch to the yard. He waited for her to come to him. All the wolves were still now, all watching to see what she would do.
Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 Page 16
