by DD Prince
“Are you almost back? Did you get help? Oh good. Okay!”
“What?” He tilts his head.
“Bye, sweetie.” I pretend to hang up. “He’s gonna be back any time so you can just go.”
“Open the door,” the guy demands.
“Sorry, no. I can’t do that. I’m not opening the door to a naked man in the woods. Uh uh.”
He frowns. “Obey me, female.”
I twitch. Female?
His eyes glitter strangely. Light hits them or something and they go a reflective green, like… like a cat. No, like a wolf, the wolf who was likely pissed because I accidentally hit him with my car.
My blood runs cold.
“Name?” he demands.
The pace of the rain picks up and it’s more than drenched him now. Why is he naked? The fact he’s naked keeps rolling around trying to make me acknowledge the thought in my head that I’m trying to stop from surfacing is correct.
Can’t be. Mind tricks. It’s dark. I’m stressed out. I didn’t really see what I thought I saw. He’s probably just a crazy, naked axe murderer who dropped his axe somewhere.
My heartrate spikes and I feel like I can’t get any air.
I look around me, looking for something to defend myself with. There’s nothing. I mean, I’m in my car, but he could break my window.
He places his forehead against the glass for a moment and breathes deeply, like he’s trying to calm himself.
The car feels like it moves just a little. God. I have it in park.
Mudslide. Rain, plus mud plus car nose pointing down a hill toward water (if he’s correct) and I am in trouble. Big trouble.
I survey the landscape ahead. Trees everywhere. There is one big one directly in front of me. If my car moves more than a few feet down, it’ll crunch into that tree. I won’t go down to any fast- moving water, I don’t think. It’ll stay there. It’s a huge tree. But it’s gonna cause damage.
“What are you called?” he grinds out, breath fogging up the window.
My heart is galloping in my chest.
He pulls on the driver’s door handle, this time looking angry and I see the door handle in his hand.
Oh no. What?
He tosses it, rounds the hood, and goes to the front passenger door and pulls on that handle.
“They’re all locked,” I tell him.
He breaks the passenger handle, too. He glares at it before tossing it.
“Stop it!” I shout angrily. “Stop breaking my car!”
His eyes hit mine and his nostrils flare. Damn. He looks like he wants to inflict pain on me.
My mouth drops open. A naked man just pulled two of my door handles off. Shit. He’s definitely not playing with a full deck.
“D-don’t. Please. Just go away,” I plead.
He’s broken my handles. What kind of strength does someone have to have for that to happen? Why is he naked? God. I’m wishing I was back in that cabin of ill-repute right now. What the heck does my horoscope say today?
“What are you called?” he demands.
“What are you called?” I fire back, snarkily.
Eek. Snark probably won’t serve me well right now.
“I’m Tyson.” He then jerks up his chin. “Open this door now.”
“Sorry, no. Tyson. My boyfriend’ll be here any---”
He slaps the window, making me stop talking, making my body freeze tight before I dive through the two front seats into the back. I catch the sight of back dimples and I try really hard not to look downwards as more of his form comes into view, not wanting to see his bare ass or, god forbid… the front.
“Boyfriend,” he repeats through tight teeth and slaps the roof angrily.
He says it almost like it’s a dare or like I have audacity to have a boyfriend.
“Oh my God. Did you just dent my roof, too?”
The car begins to slide some more, and I think oh shit as it rolls. He gets a furious look on his face as he moves with the car, holding onto the roof, as if he’s trying to stop it from moving, but he’s only sliding with it. It rests with a crunch sound against that tree that makes me groan. My poor little purple car.
I’m trembling all over. I’m trapped in my car, which is now crunched, with no phone signal and a naked door handle-breaking man. Plus, a wolf is out there somewhere! Unless I’ve really lost it and he is also that wolf.
Damn it! I chastise myself for letting the thought seep past the lunacy-prevention barrier I’ve worked so very hard to keep in place my whole life. Too late. Here we go…
My brain unleashes all I’ve been trying to stop from invading it.
Same green eyes. Wolf goes, man is here. Naked. Nope, nope nope. No. That’s crazy. But it’s obvious. The naked man is a werewolf. But it’s crazy. I’ve seen too many scary movies. I’ve listened to Auntie Nelle and her crazy “we are not alone” and “magic is real” hyperbole one too many times. Strangely, today is the one-year anniversary of her death.
I shiver. Wait, what? It is, isn’t it?
This whole night feels like a bad, scary movie. There’s no such thing as werewolves. But…
I’m still clutching my cell in my hand. I tap the screen and look. I see a bar. A bar! I key in 9-1-1.
The sky darkens and strangely lightens while the rain halts. It goes from pounding hard to just stopping, like someone turned it off with a dial.
The call fails.
“Fuzz!” I snap.
He pushes with his fingertips hard against the top of the driver’s window and I hear it protest. He grunts with effort, glaring at me with an angry look on his face.
“No,” I whisper.
The sound tells me he’s having success. What kind of strength?
I hit the screen to redial 9-1-1. With trembling fingers.
Fail.
No signal.
He pushes the entire window in. It collapses. It falls in on the driver’s seat like the little black windows on my little brother’s toy dinky cars.
Holy shit. I’m not safe. I’m in big trouble. Even if I got my call through, there’s no time for help to get here.
He reaches in, fumbles until he finds the inner handle and opens the door. I scream and grab the button on the door closest to me, lift it, thrust the door open and before realizing I’m leaning into the door, I fall, onto all fours on the wet ground.
I scamper away, trying to run back up the hill to get to the road. I glance back and see the wolf sprint from the car (from the car!) and it’s running toward me. Oh shit, shit, fuck! It is a wolf. A wolf! A huge one.
Then he isn’t wolf. He’s running on two legs again as a guy. A naked running guy. He gets closer, and closer and then I’m hefted up off the ground.
He has me. Of course he caught me. And the minute he does, he makes a roaring sound of triumph. I cry out and go for his face with my nails. He hisses in surprise as my fingers rake across his cheek. The guy looked big through the window but in the flesh, he is absolutely huge. And he’s bleeding from where I scratched him.
We fall to the ground and he’s wolf again. It’s as if an animal has just…kind of… burst from his skin. It’s mind-blowing and reminds me of that Michael Jackson music video, when faces just… morphed.
“No, please.”
I’m on my back on the ground and the massive black furry animal with the humongous teeth is standing over me. I crab-crawl backwards a few steps and it lets out a loud, deep bark. I scream and flip, then scramble to my feet and run.
I get three feet, max, when I feel something furry land on me and pin me with its body. Oh no. This is it. He’s going to rip me to shreds. I hear the deep rumbling voice. “Shh. You’re safe.”
He’s a man again and he’s what’s pinning me to the ground.
No. No! I’m pinned on the ground and his mouth is at the back of my neck, smelling me. What? He turns me and lifts me up into his arms like I’m a bride and then I’m being carried back to my car. My poor crunched-into-a-tree car.
We approach the side I escaped from and he slides me in through the still open door. He lays me on my back and climbs on top of me.
Oh no. Oh dear God, no.
Pinning me to the seat, his nose moves across my throat to behind my ear. He’s so wet from the rain that it’s dripping on my face. My face is also wet with tears. Is this how it goes? The end? I can’t let this be the end. What a fucking waste. I save the f-word for when it really counts. This feels like it really counts.
“No!” I shout. “Help!” I scream in case by some miracle there’s someone that can hear.
My car is little and he’s big and he’s on me but only half-way in, so the door is open. If I can get out from under him…
I bring my knee up and catch him by surprise as I hit the target. He grunts. But he doesn’t roll off. The space is too small; we’re just too confined.
He looks away and grits his teeth.
I struggle as he tries to recover from the nut-kneeing; I’m completely pinned and worried because … am I about to be backhanded for that?
His eyes meet mine. It’s dark in here, but they’re reflective like a cat’s. Or I guess… a wolf’s.
Duh. Of course they are.
“What are you called?” he asks, voice husky.
He’s obviously recovered from my knee to the groin and he doesn’t seem angry. In fact, the way his chest rises and falls while he’s looking at me? Like he wants to eat me alive. And not in a wolf for dinner way… in a naked man on top of a woman way.
The sky is bright. It’s still night, but through the sunroof I see there are so many stars and such a bright moon that it’s as if things the moonlight touches are almost glowing.
I shake my head. It seems important to him to know my name, but I’ve decided that I won’t be telling him.
I do my best to shove and he doesn’t budge. I try to go for his face again. He huffs and pins both my wrists down while giving me a look of admonishment. He looks around for a minute and then grabs my bag and fishes through it with one hand, holding my wrists pinned over my head in his other massive hand. I try to kick and squirm but he’s so heavy on me. He puts more weight down as he pulls my wallet out of my bag. I see a bunch of other things fall out as he flicks the snap open and the contents of my wallet fall all over me. He lifts a card and drops it. He lifts another one that I assume is my driver’s license.
“Ivy Adeline Brennan,” he says and then he smiles. “Ivy Adeline Brennan,” he repeats, and he says my name as if supremely pleased or something.
It’s not bright enough to read something in this dark car interior, even if the moon seems ridiculously bright tonight. I don’t even know how he made my name out. But I kind of do. It’s very obvious that I’m having a nightmare. A nightmare where a wolf turned into a naked man and a wolf again, then a man again, and he has night vision.
“This is a bad dream,” I whisper. “Wake up, Ivy.”
Maybe I didn’t go to that stupid cabin with Megan. Maybe I’m at home in my bed and just about to wake up from this ridiculous –
“It’s not a dream,” he tells me as he leans in. “Ivy,” he adds in a deep voice that makes funny sensations trill up my spine and across my breasts. His face is only inches from mine. “It’s real. You’re real. And you’re here, finally. From now on, you’re mine.”
His fingers tangle into my hair and his eyes devour me.
Oh shit.
“Buddy,” I whisper, shrinking away, but going nowhere. “Please. Don’t. Don’t try to do this.”
He stares for a long minute and I’m not sure why, then he softly says, “Everything is gonna be good, Ivy Adeline Brennan. You can calm down now. I’m here.” His mouth gets closer. His eyes are hooded. My eyes land on his lips. Pillowy, full bottom lip. Nicely formed bow-shaped top lip. A bit more than a five o’clock shadow.
I shake my head and then twist it to the side and his mouth lands behind my ear.
God, I don’t want this. I also don’t want to die.
I begin to weep with my eyes squeezed shut tight.
“Are you a werewolf?” I ask. Ridiculously. Ridiculously, because I know he is one and also because it sounds utterly bonkers.
“A shifter, yes. Wolf and man,” the deep voice answers and with his nose behind my ear, he takes a big breath. And then he exhales very slowly.
“I’m going to put my mouth on yours. I’ve never wanted to put my mouth on anyone. But I want to taste you while I thrust my cock inside you.”
I gasp and try to struggle. It’s no use. He’s got me pinned.
Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.
“Inhale my scent, Ivy Adeline Brennan. Learn it. Let it calm you.”
My body is wracked with sobs and tears flow like the rain outside, which is again pounding hard.
“No, no, no, no, please…” I plead.
His thumb traces my lower lip and then his palm cups my jaw.
He frowns and looks me directly in the eyes, his brows knitting together. “You weep. Why?”
“I don’t wanna die,” I whisper.
“Why would you die?” His voice is gruff. He caresses my cheek with his thumb. “Soft.”
“If I do what you say, will you not kill me?” I ask.
He’s not putting his weight on me. He’s hovering over me, his hair still dripping on me.
The guy is just… massive. His arms are nearly as big around as my waist, I think. It’s as if I’m in my tiny little car underneath a guy the size of Jason Momoa. He lets go of my wrists over my head and my fingers go to my eyes to wipe tears away.
“Kill you? Never,” he grunts. “Why would I kill my mate?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I groan without first measuring my words. It’s a day for F-words.
Clearly, he’s nuts. He’s a crazy werewolf. Or I’m having a crazy fever dream.
4
Tyson
She’s under me, her pretty hair spread out around her face, and I want to sink inside her immediately. She’s frightened and my urges are warring. My hunger for her… it’s clawing through me, shredding at my resolve which is telling me to nurture.
The urge to calm her is stronger than the urge to claim her, but barely. Because I need her. But I hate that she’s afraid of me. She should be taking in my scent and it should be calming her. I must need to mount her first, for that to happen. Mount her, mark her.
She’s looking at me with so much fear. I need to make her face change. That expression… it makes me loathe myself.
Women are never afraid of me. I smell arousal as soon as I lock eyes with them. Then again, I always meet them in that bar, never in the woods. I’m still gathering my man-senses. Even speaking takes effort so far.
I need to try. Use words to calm her.
“I’ve been smelling you since the moon began to rise tonight on this strange night,” I explain slowly, caressing her face. Her skin is soft, but it’s cool to the touch. So soft. Too cool. “I finally reach you and you think I’m planning to kill you? I haven’t hunted for you for hours for that. I’ve been looking for you for years, Ivy.”
And I am exhausted. Can’t remember the last time I was this weary. I have to stay strong, show her she has a strong mate who can care for her.
When she tried to run, my wolf emerged and then man, then wolf, then man. I’ve lost count. Shifting so many times after going years without doing it must be why I feel so depleted. I can’t even stop it part-way. My senses will sharpen. The fog is lifting, but too slowly for my liking.
She looks up at me with her large eyes. They swim with tears. Her chin quivers. And I want to find a way to make it stop.
This is physically painful for me.
I feel a shift trying to come on against my will. I fight my wolf back.
As tired as I am, as much as I’m uncomfortable in this form, my desires won’t stop surging. I want to taste that bottom lip that protrudes toward me. She has such a delicate face. Large eyes, beautiful skin. Prickling se
nsations fill my veins. A fierce need to protect her envelopes me even as blood rushes to my cock because I want to fuck her so much.
I want to hold her close and feel her wrap her limbs around me the way her name suggests she might. Ivy. Ivy wraps around you. It grows as it continues to wrap until you’re completely enclosed by it. That’s what I want. To completely disappear into this beautiful creature.
“I’ve hunted you so I can claim you. So, I can make you mine. I can’t wait to feel you.”
The scent of her has me ravenous. She smells better than any food I’ve scented or tasted as wolf or as man. She smells like she’d quench my need. Fresh. Sweet. Mouth-watering. Clean. Mine.
Will I finally feel satisfied after having her? Will I find inside her little body that thing I need, that thing I’ve never found despite the times mounting different females at my uncle’s demand?
“It will help you get stronger, Tyson. Fuck until you find what you want. It’ll teach you how to please your mate when you find her. Mount them, find your pleasure, and watch your senses improve while you get to spill inside them.”
I wish now I’d touched no one but her. I hate that my cock even touched another woman’s cunt, seeking strength, seeking release.
A thundering growl rolls up from my gut and I barely resist the urge to thrust inside her body, to make her fit me here and now.
Her eyes fill with even more fear. Horror, even. My words aren’t helping.
Her body has been struggling and she’s weary, too. If she’s mine before we make the journey to the house, it’ll comfort her. If I take her quickly it should calm her a little. Won’t it?
I reach under her short skirt. Her legs are covered with woolen lined fabric. She has strange boots on as well as a woolen sweater with excess fabric billowing about her throat. It’s a brisk night. As the cold flows into the car and I feel the chill along with her struggling and trembling under me, both from fear and from cold, I change my mind.
I can’t do this quickly. I’d start and never want to stop. This isn’t the place. I want to savor her. And more importantly, I must put her needs first. The temperature is approaching freezing now. That’s not good for either of us, especially her.
