by Jenna Kernan
Children.
No. He would not bring more of his kind to a world where they were not wanted. He glanced at Samantha and felt his conviction weakening.
She needed him. But she did not want him. He heard her say so to Cesar. Why was the truth so hard to hear?
The ache in his chest spread until he could not breathe. His kind was too terrible. The earth would be better without them. The planet, in balance before their arrival, would recover more quickly once they had vanished back into the mist.
Samantha finished first, groaned and sidled back to one of the pines to scratch her back against the ridges of the trunk.
Alon was not full, but he was no longer weak from hunger. It seemed rude to eat without her, so he followed to where she rested beside the tree.
“You know I might have killed you,” he said, trying for a chastening tone. He hated the slur and gurgle of his words. “My kind does not share.”
She huffed and showed him her fangs.
“Will you change back?”
She shook her large head and patted her belly then groaned.
“Do you wish to return to my parents now?”
In answer she closed her eyes and then used a large paw to pull him against her warm, furry body.
Alon rested a clawed hand on her chest, stroking the thick, coarse fur. It was like snuggling up to a gigantic teddy bear. He hadn’t meant to sleep, but his full stomach and the buzzing of insects lulled him and he dropped, like a stone, into slumber.
When he woke, low gray clouds swept across the sky. A storm was coming. How much time had passed? He glanced about him, recalling himself to his surroundings.
Where was Samantha?
He sat up, alert now as he sensed for ghosts and found no trace of their clammy presence on his skin.
He rose to follow the clear highway of her scent. It led toward the water he heard burbling a little way off. Was she bathing?
Alon broke into a run.
He slowed when he neared the churning river that bounced between rocky banks over ghost-gray rocks and swirled in quiet eddies among boulders. The water shone the strange azure blue of all glacier-fed rivers and must have been as cold as the melting ice that created it.
Naked in her human form, Samantha stood calf-deep in quiet water between two massive rocks that wore green caps of lodge pole pines, their branches sweeping and dancing in the rising wind. She dipped her cape into the azure river.
Alon drank in the sight. No one had ever accepted him in his fighting form before. No one except his family had ever seen him eat. Yet Samantha had done both and with an easy grace that made it seem as if what she had done was nothing at all. Yet it was everything.
He didn’t know if she was blind or just crazy. What else could account for her holding him, nestling against him when he was so hideous?
His chest ached now and his throat felt raw, as if he had swallowed something scalding. Could she really not see him for what he was, or could she overlook it for the protection he provided?
“I may not have the gifts of a wolf,” she said, casually, as if speaking to her bearskin, “but I can smell well enough to know when I’m being spied on.”
She threw her bearskin cape over her shoulders, covering her form from shoulder to knee. The wind whipped her loose wet hair, lifting it in ropes.
He thought to change into his more human form, but seeing her nude had stirred the wanting again. The prospect of holding her in his arms scalded his skin and burned deep into his lungs and viscera.
He wanted to take her in every way a man takes a mate. But if he came to her naked and wanting, she might reject him. Rejection from Samantha was one defeat he could not bear. He knew it was impossible between them. But still he moved toward her.
He told himself that he needed her rejection. It was her only chance to escape him.
So he stepped out from cover still in his fighting form, walked to the water and waded in, quickly washing the blood from his body. Samantha slipped out of the water as he splashed in, but she did not go far enough. How could she sense his presence and not what he wanted from her?
“That was an excellent meal.” Her smile was generous and bright. “Thank you.”
She smoothed her cloak of glossy fur. There was a flash as if from a camera as her dark brown fur cape turned to a blur of pale purple.
She stood before him now, in a pretty lavender sundress that revealed her slim, muscular arms and hugged her lovely round breasts before cutting away to dance in the wind in waves of fabric about her cinnamon-brown legs. She was bare from midthigh to the straps of her wafer-thin sandals that crisscrossed her trim ankles. She had chosen this lovely vision for him. He felt a gratitude that struck bone deep.
I don’t want this. Not with him.
Her words bounced up in his mind, smashing against the enticement she now presented. What was she doing?
Her smile was welcoming. “I have something to ask you. A request, really.”
Her words confirmed his suspicion. This was why she offered herself in such a garment, to better her odds at getting what she wanted. He gave her another long look. Well, it was working.
She cocked her head. “Do you like it?”
“Very much.”
Her smile radiated pleasure. He tucked the sight of her away in his memory, to be drawn on later when she was gone. She swished her skirts and pivoted from side to side, giving him an ever-changing view.
His lips tugged upward into a smile that he knew must be hideous. The blood pulsed to his sex. He lowered his chin, fighting the urge to capture her. Would it be better to remain in his fighting form or change into his third form to stand before her naked and fully aroused?
She took a step in his direction, the pretty smile still on her raspberry-colored lips. “Your parents told me that you lead them, all the others.”
He nodded, apprehensive as to where this conversation was heading.
“And you told me that the Skinwalkers were no match for Nagi’s army.”
“Well?”
“We could be. If you all joined the alliance, we could win. And you’d be protecting the Balance and Mankind.” She held her smile, but it seemed forced. She waited for his response.
His eyes narrowed upon her as she confirmed his suspicions. This was why she sought him out. Not to hunt with him or share a meal or sleep at his side. It was to make this proposal. He shifted, resting his weight on his knuckles, resisting the urge to growl. Had he actually let himself believe she sought his company? That she longed for him as much as he did her? The shame crept through him like crystals of ice.
He had protected her, guarded her from harm, and all the while she was scheming. He would have defended her with his own life.
“I’ll bring you to them.” Her voice held a forced enthusiasm.
She couldn’t possibly be looking forward to introducing him to her family. But she was willing to do it for the cause. What else was she willing to do? How far would she go?
“I’ll take you to them privately. Blake first then my dad.”
“Privately.” Of course.
“Yes. And I’ll explain. They’ll want your help. I know it.”
“Have you already asked them?”
She glanced away. “Not yet.” Her gaze sought his again, and she placed one delicate hand on each of his hairy shoulders. “But I will.”
Her scent surrounded him. The prickling heat of her touch tingled over his skin. She slid her hands about his thick, hairy neck. Alon knew he could break free, but somehow he couldn’t. Her touch, her gaze, her heat all enthralled him.
When he spoke his voice held strain. “And what are you prepared to give me in return?”
Her hands slipped away. Her face registered surprise. Let’s see what she did with his counteroffer.
“What do you want?”
Her question hit him in the chest like a dart. Did she know what she was doing?
“I want you,” he whispered.
> Her brow knit. “What?”
He summoned the energy, feeling it flash through him as he transformed into the lover she could accept. Her gaze flicked to his erection and her cheeks flushed.
Her ears pulled back and her eyes went cautious. She retreated a step. Too little too late, he thought.
The tension in her body and the scent of her blood pulsing through her told him she recognized danger.
“You don’t have to, Samantha. You can just walk away. I’ll understand. Your family would expect it. You’d be a fool not to.”
Then he scented something else. Samantha’s arousal came to him on the breeze as sweet and spicy as any exotic bloom.
Oh, no, he thought. No. No. No. Run, you little fool.
She seemed not to hear as she stared steadily at him. When she spoke, her words were a whisper, as if she spoke only to herself. “I have to know. This may be the only way.”
He didn’t understand her words and wondered briefly what she would know by lying with him. But he didn’t care. He’d accept any excuse, any feeble rationalization on her part as long as it allowed him to touch her again.
Alon stalked forward in the form he knew she could not resist.
Chapter 14
Compelled by a force she could no longer deny, Samantha moved toward Alon until she stood so close she could feel the heat of his skin. Her aura pulled toward his, the smoky gray of his essence already blending with her violet, brown and gold.
She lowered her gaze to find his crystal-blue eyes locked on hers. His jaw muscles bulged as he set his mouth in a grim line. He looked like a man going to war. She swallowed back her fear, pressed down her uncertainty and ignored the warning of danger as she reached for him.
Samantha ran her fingers over the perfection of Alon’s chest, savoring the texture of warm, yielding flesh over taut muscle. His third form, the one he called an illusion, was no illusion. Her fingers danced over his stomach, and his skin twitched as if in pain. His eyes spoke to her, begging her to turn back. But she couldn’t. She glanced down at his sex, jutting toward her. She reached, taking hold of him, measuring the length of him with her two hands. His eyes closed, but not before she saw them change from blue to green.
She knew what it meant. Green was the blending of blue and yellow—his third form struggling to emerge.
His head dropped back and a growl of male yearning tore from his throat. His hands hung at his sides and he stood as if petrified, muscles taut, fully erect in her hands, neither welcoming her touch nor repelling it. He waged a battle against himself, suffering the call of desire and still refusing to yield. The dark clouds gave a gloom to the day, making it easier to see their auras. She glanced up, noting something new. There was a sparkling now, like dust motes dancing in sunlight.
What did it mean?
She needed his touch, yet still he denied her.
The urge to feel his flesh pressing to hers roared inside her. Suddenly the flimsy dress seemed far too confining. Nothing could stand between them now.
Samantha drew her hands reluctantly from his body and stepped back. His eyes snapped open, tracking her every movement. Did he think she had changed her mind? He watched her as if she belonged to him, as if he possessed her already. The intensity of his stare unnerved her.
He didn’t want this. That much was clear from his expression. But it would happen, here and now, regardless of what they wanted. They both knew it because they’d already gone too far. She would satisfy this fascination for the forbidden, and no one need know.
She lifted a hand to the hem of her skirt and concentrated. The sheer fabric vanished in a flash of brilliant light as her clothing reformed into a simple necklace, a gold medicine wheel on a short chain. The wind blew cold over her heated flesh. Alon would warm her.
His gaze swept over her nude form, tracing her curves, lingering on her breasts, diving to stare at her sex.
She wished she were a Mindwalker or a Truth Seeker, so she could read Alon’s thoughts. But he gave her nothing but the obvious excitement of his sex, the resistance of his body and the grave reservations in his eyes.
“Perhaps joining will make the hunger stop.”
He shook his head, denying her childish fantasy that she could be as she was before. No matter what happened here, she would never be the same again. Alon had changed her.
“It will never stop.” His words were like a deadly pronouncement.
She shivered in the rising wind, knowing it was true.
The realization frightened her enough to send her back a step. He captured her wrist. Their eyes met. She resisted, and he imprisoned her other wrist in a move so fast it was only a blur. His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell in a rapid cadence too fast for a man standing still. His green irises had nearly disappeared, pushed back by the expanding black pupils that now looked like twin solar eclipses. She sucked in a breath.
For just a moment she thought he might use his superior strength to cast her aside. Instead he transferred both her wrists to one large hand.
He tugged her forward, compelling her with his gaze as he scowled down at her. He used his free hand, at the center of her back, to draw her forward until her hips collided with his.
She felt his shaft, now stiff and ready, pressed against her stomach. The desire pumped through her, rocking Samantha on her feet. Yes, she wanted this.
When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “I might hurt you.”
“You won’t, Alon. I’m not human. Not fragile. You don’t want me to forget your other form, but you keep forgetting mine. I’m a grizzly, and a damned big one. If that were not enough, I have the power to heal.”
“You’re not only a Skinwalker. You are Spirit Child. They are weak, fragile.”
“I’m not.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Let’s find out.”
She watched the tug-of-war play out on his features. Was it true? Shadow, sunshine and shadow again. And then she realized she was not only reading his expression. She felt his emotions as if they were her own. Hope. Dread. Acceptance.
She had won.
“Remember that I tried to prevent this.”
He looked the picture of control, but there was wildness in his eyes and fever in his blood. The tight restraint of his body now seemed a coiling preparation. He was a seawall holding back the unstoppable ocean.
He dragged her arms about his neck, encircled her in his inescapable embrace and slanted his mouth to hers. The riotous kiss tipped her from her axis, and Samantha reeled off into space. His fingers coiled in her hair as he took possession of her in a fierce invasion of her mouth, his tongue sliding, stroking as he controlled her.
She leaned over his arm, yielding to his superior strength, allowing his ownership of her as anticipation fluttered inside her.
Samantha gripped his forearms as he lowered her to the earth, and still her head spun. He kissed her throat, her neck and down along the line of her collarbone.
His tongue flicked out as he licked her skin, raising gooseflesh in his wake. The clouds sailed above them, billowing dark, but they did not match the storm within her.
Alon pinned her down with one leg as his hands swept up her torso to caress her aching breasts. She groaned and arched toward the sweet pressure of his skillful hands, her nipples tightening to hard knots in his palms.
He kept his gaze on her as he kneaded the sensitive flesh. She stretched her arms over her head to claw at the ground behind her and bucked her hips.
His mouth covered the tip of one breast, his tongue flicking over the taut nipple, thrilling her with tiny darts of pleasure. Her body had never been so ready, and still he did not take her. She writhed as he pinned her arms to the ground and then made his way leisurely down her belly, his teeth grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin.
He used one strong leg to nudge her thighs apart then took his place there. She opened her eyes to see him, poised between her legs, looking at h
er exposed flesh. The hunger in his eyes gave her chills. He dived and his lips danced over her sensitive flesh, parting the folds and driving her mad with each swirl of his tongue. Her breath caught in excitement. He grabbed her calves and pressed her legs around his middle. She clamped her ankles across his back, digging her heels into the long, corded muscle as he mouthed her most sensitive flesh.
Her body pulsed and liquid heat made her slick and ready. He bumped against her with his mouth, his tongue entering her in an imitation of the sex act. She gasped and cried out, her skin tingling and her body aching for him to take her.
She needed him inside her. He was big, very big, and she wanted him to drive into her with everything he had.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered, his breath warm against the moisture on her thigh.
He lifted his head. His eyes were a ghostly yellow. Alon grasped her hips and dragged her beneath him. She saw the claws emerging from his hands.
She shivered in alarm and delight.
He knelt between her spread thighs, sliding his hands up her body, finally planting them on each side of her head and extending his arms. He used his knee to spread her legs wider. Samantha pressed her feet flat to the earth and lifted herself to meet him.
He growled and then bucked, sheathing himself fully inside her with one thrust. Samantha gasped at the arousing friction. Even as wet as she was, her body struggled to accommodate him, stretching as he pushed deeper, stopping only when he met the opening of her womb.
His eyes blazed with possession as he withdrew and thrust again. He pumped again and again. His expression might have been need or hatred. The hairs on her neck lifted even as her body reeled with the passion he stirred.
Her climax built, rising so quickly that she cried out in surprise as she clung to him. He delved into her again and again. She was so close. She needed only a few more of those perfect thrusts and...
Alon cried out and for a moment she thought he had come, but this was a different kind of release. This was a fracturing of his control. He grasped her hips and lifted her off the ground, holding her open to each hard thrust. Each slide was a perfect gift, each withdrawal a tiny tragedy. He was rough and she liked it. She closed her eyes to savor this wild joining, her head rolling to the side as the first orgasm burst inside her. A long, tortured cry of release tore from her lips and was met with one of his.
