by Cecy Robson
“No kidding,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?”
Her brow crinkles. Whoa. She’s really cute. I drag my hand through my hair, giving myself a moment to gather the confidence I first had when I found her. “What I meant was, New Jersey kind of sucks.”
“Mm. Does it?” she asks.
“I don’t mean you suck. I just mean your state sucks.”
If I had my socks near me, I’d ram them in my mouth.
“You have a problem with New Jersey, oh, naked boy crouching in a creek?” she fires back.
By now, I should be the one trying to hide. Instead, I laugh. Call it humiliation or call it something else. “Yes, and it’s a river.” I smirk. “You know what they say. The only thing good about being from New Jersey is being from New Jersey.”
She returns my smirk. It looks way better on her. “For someone whose idea of a good time is streaking through the woods and scratching behind his ears, you’re pretty judgmental,” she teases.
I chuckle. “I also have mad tracking skills.”
She laughs a little, though she seems surprised by the sound. “Is that so?”
I grin, meeting her gaze through the thick brush. “I found you, didn’t I?”
It’s there, I see it, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips and casting a shimmer across her irises. “I suppose you did, Aric.”
My smile dissolves at the way she says my name, the warmth my shyness initially spurred spreading through my chest. What is she doing to me? Is it magic? That same magic that built that invisible wall I crashed into?
“Is something wrong, Aric?”
There it is again. “No, I just . . .”
Her fingertips trail along her cheek, pushing the muddy strands away from her face. “You just what?”
“It’s nothing.” I cough into my shoulder. “I just like how you say my name.”
“Oh,” she replies.
The surprise in her tone is obvious. I can sense it and her shyness warming the air. I shouldn’t like the way she says my name as much as I do. Except, here I am, waiting for her to say it again.
“You know my name,” I remind her when she quiets. “But you haven’t told me yours.”
She lifts her chin, her gaze fastening on mine. “I’m Celia,” she says. “Celia Wird.”
Her words are careful, filled with uncertainty and a little fear. I don’t want her to be afraid. Not of me. I grin, pushing my hand through a small opening in the thick brambles. I ignore the bite of the thorns. “It’s nice to meet you, Celia.”
Her hand slides across my palm. Like a wave of sunshine breaking through clouds, warmth pulses through my hand, blazing a path through my veins and straight into my chest.
It doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t sting.
It’s . . . incredible.
I jerk away as if burned, gaping at my palm and back at her. “What did you do to me?” I ask.
She trembles, her breath releasing in short gasps.
“Celia,” I say, when she doesn’t answer. “What did you just do to me?”
The sensation recedes, leaving me empty. Without thinking, I reach toward her again, seeking more.
“What are you?” I ask, my voice heavy and raspy.
She edges away, staring at my hand. I know she’s scared. I open my mouth, hoping to reassure her. But then she whirls, shooting up the embankment so fast I barely trace the movement.
“Celia, wait—”
Shock cuts my voice off like the slice of a blade. Celia, the young vulnerable woman hiding in the brush, is gone. In her place, a golden tigress, its fur coated in mud, charges through the terrain and up the bank in a blur of speed and grace.
I jet after her. My bare feet crush the moist debris until I change and my thick claws scrape into the soil, flinging it behind me.
Chapter Three
I’m known for my speed, but Celia is fast.
She zigzags through the pines, letting the long heavy branches slap against my face. Flashes of black fur appear in my peripheral vision. Gemini is here with his twin wolf. Koda arrives too, the fur of his massive red wolf blazing like fire at midnight. Liam isn’t far behind, I sense him more than I see him.
We break through the clearing, racing at full speed. I catch sight of Celia, just as I realize where we are.
The cliff. She’s going off the ledge if she doesn’t stop.
I howl and snap my jaws, warning her. All that does is increase her speed, and incite my friends to howl and snarl. The thrill of the hunt and the proximity to what they perceive as prey stimulates their voracious hunger. Their keen sights are set on Celia, but she’s not theirs to have.
She’s mine.
Dirt and debris pepper me as she digs her claws into the ground, trying to stop. She’s going too fast, the weight of her tigress pushing her forward. I leap, changing into my human form and snagging her front paws when she slides, rump first, over the cliff. I wrench her to me, slipping an arm under her belly and around her head.
I dig in my heels and haul her back. The sensation—the one I felt when I touched her—envelops me in all the good ways possible. I start to relax until claws rake across my chest and tear through my skin.
“Ouch, Celia!”
I hook my arm tighter to pull her closer. “Don’t be mean,” I snarl. “I’m only trying to help.”
Our closeness amplifies the warmth between us. I try to fight it, but that fight is brief. Like before, the feel of her consumes me.
My body welcomes Celia like an embrace after a long, weary day. It relaxes me, despite how my heartbeat races and her presence further rouses my beast.
I groan, clutching her closer. “It’s okay,” I whisper into her ear. “I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”
I have no business saying what I do. I don’t know her and she just clawed my chest to pieces. My skin burns with the speed in which my wolf’s magic heals me. As the skin knits closed, an itch develops I can’t quite scratch.
“Werewolves, the ones not from New Jersey, protect innocents. That’s you. So, predator or not, I’m obligated as a Leader of my kind to see to your safety.”
My words are merely a trace of sound against her ear. Having her so close makes me feel peaceful and I think she reacts to me the same way. She falls limp in my arms. Not from exhaustion or injury. No, this is something else.
Her heartbeat matches the speed of mine, pounding against my chest. She whimpers and releases a shudder, not what I expect from a creature close to matching me in strength.
“Shhh,” I murmur. “It’s all right.”
I rise to a standing position, pulling her carefully with me. She’s small for a tigress, not fully grown, but long and formidable.
I forgot about my friends, until I see them wagging their tails ferociously. Everyone, that is, except Koda. His dark, stormy eyes glint with suspicion. He’s not happy. Seeing how he’s glaring at Celia, seconds from biting her, I’m not happy, either.
Liam is the first to change, leaping into the air and pumping his fists wildly. He tosses back his long blond hair as he lands. “Yeah! Aric bagged a tiger.” He points to Gemini. “And you thought that elk you brought down was the kill of the day.”
Gemini changes. He’s tall like me, but relatively thin. His almond-shaped eyes narrow. Like Koda, he knows all is not what it seems. His twin black wolf paces restlessly back and forth, refusing to break his focus from Celia.
“She’s not a tiger, Liam,” Gem tells him.
Liam frowns. “Sure, she is. She’s got stripes and everything.”
Gemini pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s something we do a lot around Liam. “That’s not what I mean.”
Koda changes. I’m told I have a few more inches to grow. But Koda is already taller and massive, compared to the rest of us. The black hair he’s growing out brushes against his shoulders. “What is she, Aric?” he asks, his stance as deadly as
his tone.
“A ti-ger,” Liam says, like we’re stupid.
“She’s a girl,” I say. I do a double-take when I notice Celia has one paw over her eyes. “She’s just, you know, a little shy.”
“A girl?” At my nod, Liam hunkers down, edging closer. “I don’t know, Aric. I say we eat her.” He straightens, holding up his hand. “Who’s with me? I call dibs on a leg.”
A guttural roar tears through Celia’s throat. I hang tight when my friends snarl in response, barely keeping her against me.
“You’re not going to eat her, touch her, or go anywhere near her,” I snap. “She’s a girl—a human—and she’s under my protection.”
My friends exchange sour glances. They don’t like what I say, yet they recognize my pledge for what it is. As a Leader, they can’t go after Celia without challenging me to a fight.
“You sure about that, Aric?” Koda asks, his deep voice lowering and menace dripping from each vowel. “Humans can’t change and she’s coated with magic.”
“And fur. Don’t forget the fur,” Liam says. “Koda’s right.” He makes a whirling motion with his finger. “That is not human.”
“Her name is Celia,” I say, growing defensive. “And, okay, maybe she’s not entirely human, but neither are we.”
“We’re weres,” Koda presses, his aggression growing more pronounced. “We know what we are, and what we’re not. Can you say the same about this thing?”
That peace Celia’s presence granted me abandons me in a rush. Ire digs through my tensing muscles, leaving me and my beast with the need to rip someone in two. “Call Celia a thing one more time and you and me are going to have problem,” I snarl.
Koda’s thick brows knit together and every muscle on his hulking body clenches. I’ve challenged him. Leader or not, he can answer it. And bigger or not, he’s going down if he does.
Koda stalks around, ready to cast the first blow or the last, usually with good reason. Liam was the first friend he made and I was a close second. We’ve never come to blows. I hope today won’t be a first. Friends, real ones, should never have to fight like this.
Instead of prowling forward, he holds back, crossing his arms over his chest.
Gemini steps forward, his twin wolf taking a seat beside Koda. Koda is a hothead. Gemini always keeps his cool, the reasonable one when the rest of us are losing our minds. I think he’s taking my side. Until he speaks.
“I don’t like this, Aric,” Gemini says. He watches us closely, keeping his hands loose at his sides and his stance unthreatening, even as he says what he does. “What if she’s a witch? Witches can assume forms with potions and cast spells to ensnare you with their magic.”
I glance down at Celia. I’m not stupid, nor am I so blinded by her that I don’t give thought to what Gemini says. For all I know, this is some kind of mojo meant to confuse me. These feelings I sense swirling through my head and how my body reacts when we touch shouldn’t affect me the way they do. I only spoke to Celia a handful of seconds. But it’s like my wolf snaps his jaws at my reasoning and in the direction of my friends. He wants us to protect Celia. Like me, he senses her honesty.
“She’s not a witch,” I reply. “I’m sure of it.”
“What about a shapeshifter?” Koda suggests. “There’s a lot we still don’t know about them.”
“Shapeshifters require decades of blood sacrifices to their deity in order to gain the power to assume any form,” Gemini replies, saving me the trouble. “Celia is too young to have caused such damage.” He rubs his jaw, eyeing her closely. My wolf and I don’t like it. Gemini realizes it and drops his hand away, trying to appease me. “Besides, I don’t feel that darkness that’s supposed to accompany their kind.”
“How would you know?” Liam asks. “It’s not like you’ve ever met a shifter.”
“They carry the power of hell within them,” Gemini patiently explains. “You can’t carry something that menacing without our wolves noticing.”
The reminder gives the others something to chew on. Liam and Koda ease back. Gemini doesn’t, keeping his position and staring at Celia as if taken by her.
It takes some effort, but I manage to keep from growling.
Liam picks up a small stone and tosses it a few yards away. “I don’t know, man. I still think we should eat her.”
Celia makes a chuffing sound.
Liam frowns. “What was that?”
Celia does it again. This time louder.
“Is she laughing at me?” Liam asks.
I smirk. “It beats her trying to rip your throat out, like you deserve.” I lower her to the ground like I would a kitten, instead of the beast who made mincemeat out of my torso. “I’m going to let you go. Don’t run, okay? You’re safe here with us.”
Celia’s tail whips back and forth. She doesn’t trust me, but she needs to. I crouch down, meeting her eyes.
“Aric?” Gemini warns. “What are you doing? She’ll take it as a challenge.”
Ordinarily, he’d be right. To look another were in the eyes is the equivalent of a shove and a pass to draw blood. “Celia isn’t were,” I remind them. I extend my hand slowly and stroke her head. Her fur is softer and different than mine, more like bits of cotton stretched out into tiny threads.
I’ve seen pictures of humans wearing fur coats of exotic animals and thinking them fools. But I suppose wearing a coat like this is the closest they’ll come to capturing the strength of the beast.
“Give us a chance,” I tell her. “By the looks of it, you don’t have many choices.”
She eyes me carefully with each pass of my hand. Man. I’m practically offering my hand as her next meal. Still, there’s a part of me that believes she won’t hurt me. Call me oblivious, but someone who blushes as much is she does isn’t going to maw first and ask questions later.
“What if we got you some clothes?” I ask. “Would that help?”
She cocks her head. “Hey, Gemini? Can you send your twin back for my pack? For our packs? I think Celia will be comfortable if we’re all dressed.”
Gemini looks to his wolf. “Go,” he instructs. “Don’t be long.”
Liam kicks at the dirt when he sees Gemini’s twin wolf take off in a sprint. “Do we have to get dressed?” Liam asks. “I have to air these parts out every now and then.” He motions down his body. “You hear what I’m saying? Some things need to breathe.”
Celia grimaces and turns away, staring out over the valley. “Liam, she’s a guest,” I say, trying not to laugh. “And from what I can tell, she’s seen enough of your parts.”
Liam grins. “Has she seen enough of yours?”
Heat flushes across my skin. I’m not embarrassed by my body. I’m embarrassed that Celia’s embarrassed, if that makes sense. “Yes, Liam,” I bite out.
Liam laughs, his blond hair flinging away from his face from the force he uses to throw back his head. “Aric’s got a girlfriend,” he sings, ignoring the dirty look I shoot his way.
“What?” he asks Koda when Koda tells him to shut it. “It could happen. Nothing says a were can’t like a, ah, well, whatever she is.”
“But there are expectations that purebloods keep their lineage clean and unmarred,” Gemini says.
My chin jerks in his direction and I have to squash back a growl. It’s not that he’s making things up. But he doesn’t have to rub Celia’s face in it.
I open my mouth to argue, to tell him those rules aren’t as stringent as they once were. Except then I realize I’m opening a can of worms that Celia isn’t aware of . . . and that Gemini’s full attention is on Celia, his deep fascination with her growing more pronounced. Maybe her tigress has caught his wolf’s interest. Maybe I shouldn’t care. She had the same effect on me.
It’s what I tell myself. That doesn’t stop me from narrowing my gaze and edging to her side.
I crouch beside her, wiping my mouth to hide my amusement when she does her best to keep
her eyes on the valley and not on me.
“See that river down there?” I ask, pointing east. I pause when it occurs to me that maybe she doesn’t possess the keen senses we do. If so, maybe she can’t see the sliver of water cutting through the thick forest, or hear the gentle beat of whitewater soaking boulders as old as time. She nods. It gives me hope that maybe we’re not so different. “It’s three times as wide as the river where I found you and every bit as long. So long as you follow it, you won’t get lost. It leads to the main highway and home.”
Her eyes shimmer with hope and she starts to rise. “Not your home,” I quickly add. “Mine. For you, we’ll have to find a different way.”
Celia’s head droops. Just enough to demonstrate her disappointment, but not enough for my friends to catch a glimpse of her vulnerability. I stroke her back, although maybe I shouldn’t.
If my friends were upset, I wouldn’t demonstrate compassion like this. I’d listen. I’d offer my perspective. And if things were really bad, we’d hug like bros. Except Celia is a girl and, well, as much as Dad always told me females are our equals, he stressed I need to treat them differently. “Be gentle and respectful and mainly careful.” I’m not sure this is what he had mind, but here I am.
My fingers glide between Celia’s shoulder blades, over muscle lethal enough to kill, yet emanating enough warmth to soothe a treacherous beast like me. “I’ll help you find your way back,” I promise.
When her eyes meet mine, I swear I stop moving. The shimmer of green across her irises bespells me. It’s not magic, not like Gemini claims. Nor is it evil disguised as kindness, like Koda inferred. It’s just . . . Celia.
The thump of quick and agile feet approach. Gem’s twin has returned and still I don’t look away. Celia is the first to break eye contact, appearing startled by her reaction.
I drag my hand through my hair and mutter a curse. We’re not exactly alone and we just met. The others are watching and judging and who knows what else. I’ll deal with them later. Right now, it’s about Celia and making her feel safe.
The wolf’s heavy paws crunch the dried pine needles and bits of bark scattered along the plateau. Gemini’s twin is usually ghostlike, blending into the environment as easily as our primal ancestors. My guess is that his loud steps are intended to not alarm Celia. He’s cautious around her and he appears as fascinated by Celia as I am.
