by Celia Kyle
“They’re not people, Persia. They’re mutants. Abominations that must be exterminated at all costs.”
“No, they’re not. They’re just like you and me. They just have an unusual talent. They’re good and noble and just want to live their lives without some fucking murderer shooting at them!”
Dick’s face grew even more purple. “I can’t believe you’re defending them. I’m your damn father, Persia. Your blood!”
“Don’t remind me,” she spat back, finally and truly finished with the man who’d donated his genetic material once upon a time. “I’d rather spend the rest of my life as one of them than spend another minute in your toxic orbit!”
She turned to head back to her van, but Dick snatched at her arm, pulling her against him in a tight grip. His breath smelled of stale coffee and hate.
“My daughter will become one of those mutants over my dead body,” he seethed.
Just as he started to drag her back the way they came, the bushes and small trees blocking her view of the meadow rustled frantically, and then a large, sandy-colored wolf bounded out of them. Dick shoved Persia toward the wolf in an effort to save himself, but Warren’s wolf darted around her to position himself between her and her father. Paws splayed, head held low, lips pulled back in a terrifying, toothy snarl, he waited for Dick’s next move.
The instinct to protect himself became secondary once he saw the wolf protecting Persia, his property. “Get away from my daughter, you freak!”
The wolf advanced a step, his hackles raised all the way along his spine. The low, rumbling growl coming from him grew into a sharp snap of his powerful jaws. Dick blinked in surprise, but when the wolf stayed put, he appeared to gain confidence, like maybe the beast had no plans to attack him at all.
“Time to finish this once and for all.” Dick sneered as he reached into his suit pocket and whipped out a tiny pistol.
Persia panicked. She’d spent her life wandering around, fighting her father for what she thought was right, but never putting down roots. She still had trouble wrapping her head around this shifter business, but Warren was worth the effort. So were the people in the Soren village… pack… whatever it was called. No way was she going to stand back and watch her father take that chance from her.
“No!” she screamed, grabbing fistfuls of Warren’s fur and trying to pull him behind her, but he was far too strong. He turned his massive head to look into her eyes, a sorrow that made her bones ache emanating from them, and then he bumped her with his hindquarters and sent her sprawling onto her ass.
“Dammit, stand still, you monster!” Dick shouted, trying to steady his sights on the wolf and not his daughter, though she remained dangerously close.
Just as he squeezed the trigger, a furry, black blur leapt out of the bushes, its huge body blocking Warren’s wolf. A sharp yelp echoed through the canopy and a spray of blood splattered on Persia’s face as the sound of the black beast crashing to the ground broke her heart. Whoever that wolf was, he’d just sacrificed himself to save Warren. That made him a hero in her book.
As Dick tried to make sense of the chaos, Warren took the chance to lunge forward and clamp down on the man’s wrist. Dick tried to wrest free. Then he tried pulling the trigger again, but the pressure and pain proved to be too much. The gun thumped to the soft ground, his blood painting it crimson. Persia felt nothing but relief at her father’s cries of pain as he stumbled away, toward the relative safety of his fancy car. Not that she wanted him to suffer… okay, maybe she wanted him to suffer a little.
Once Dick was far enough away to no longer be a threat, Warren shifted back into his human form. This time the transformation didn’t freak Persia out as much as it had before. It was quite fascinating and sort of beautiful. Not to mention the fact he came out of his wolf form buck naked. But the moment his human eyes met hers, she realized other things were vastly more important at that moment. Such as the bleeding wolf lying in the dirt and leaves, the one who’d taken a bullet for her man.
“Levi.” Warren’s voice was tight.
They reached the wolf at the same time, Persia stroking his furry face as he whimpered in pain. “How bad is it?” she asked as Warren probed the wound in the wolf’s shoulder.
He smiled reassuringly down at the wolf. “Levi, don’t shift, okay? You need to conserve your strength. Doesn’t look life-threatening to me, but we really need to get him to Trina.”
Persia looked the massive wolf up and down. “How?”
“My truck’s parked next to your van. I’ll take his head. You take his tail.” He crouched low to get a good grip on his friend.
Persia worked really, really hard not to laugh at the sight of a naked man nearly tea-bagging a buddy. It was just shock and hysteria working together to release some of the pent-up tension inside her, but even she knew how inappropriate the thought was. Warren watched her carefully, so to explain her obvious amusement, she pointed at the wolf’s fluffy tail.
“Tails. Literally.”
Ten minutes later, Persia’s arms shook with strain as they gently laid the wolf on the ground between the vehicles. Her father’s BMW was long gone, thank god.
“Are you sure he’s going to be okay?” she panted heavily.
Warren checked the wound again, drawing a growl from Levi. “Yeah, bleeding’s already stopped and you can see he’s feeling pretty frisky.”
“Then I really should go file that injunction. My dad’s probably already scheming to crush us in some new way. Coward.”
Worry flashed in Warren’s eyes, and she quickly added, “But I’ll head to Trina’s right after. I swear. I’ll be back.”
He stepped closer, sweat dripping down his chest and weaving its way around his abs. “Are you sure?”
Locking her gaze on him, she reached for his hand. “Of course I’m sure.”
Levi barked at them, reminding them he was lying there injured. They both jumped a little, embarrassed that they’d forgotten about him for a second.
“You should take my truck, it’ll be faster. Besides, I think a naked man driving around with a bloody wolf in the bed of his truck might draw some attention. Keys are under the floor mat.”
Persia nodded and quickly unlocked her van, grabbed her folder and tossed him the keys. Together they loaded Levi into her van, and then she gave his cheek a quick peck before heading to his truck, ready to show her father what she was really made of.
Chapter Nineteen
Persia sang at the top of her lungs and totally off-key as she pulled Warren’s truck onto pack lands near the end of the day. Strange not to think of it as an old homesteader’s village because that was one hell of a cover, but stranger still, thinking in terms of a pack came naturally. It all seemed to fit so seamlessly.
All the more reason to celebrate the judge’s order granting a temporary injunction against her dad. She’d broken every speed limit between the courthouse and pack lands so she could deliver the news. With demolition halted, it was only a matter of time before a different judge, one higher up the ladder, granted a permanent injunction. And it was all thanks to Warren and a particularly rare beetle.
Her dad would be livid when he found out, but she gave zero fucks about that. It was the least he deserved after all the misery he’d created. Right now, she and the pack needed something to celebrate.
As she parked in the gravel area outside the pack house, she spotted something that looked vaguely like Betty parked a little way behind the house, tucked up against the tree line. Climbing from the truck, she squinted, as if that might make her vision better.
“What the hell?”
As she drew closer, details came into focus and she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was her Westfalia, all right, covered roof-to-tires in a vast array of flowers. Ceramic pots weighed down the roof. Vibrant blooms sprouted out triumphantly all over the bumper and tires. Bundles of loose wildflowers had been tied to every inch of space, and where they weren’t, cornstalks leaned against an
y open spots. The tableau of flora made her home look like a rolling druid’s shrine, and the twinkle lights wrapped around the roof several times gave the entire display an ethereal glow in the dusky twilight.
Unbelievable! Someone—as if she didn’t know who—had gone to all this trouble and made this huge romantic gesture, just for her. Her throat tightened and she blinked away tears as she peered through a bare space on a window. No Warren, but the entire interior had also received the flowery treatment, with beautiful wildflower bouquets and rose petals scattered on the bed, which she noticed had been made up. A blush rose in her cheeks, not just from embarrassment, but also excitement over what the night would hold.
Music started playing behind her, an acoustic version of her very most favorite song in the world, Endless Love. Spinning around, she scanned the area, but she didn’t see anything out of place—certainly no electronics that could be playing the music, not even an old-school boombox. Some shrubbery at the edge of the tree line rustled, and the moment Warren stepped out, Persia knew her heart belonged to him.
His rough hands strummed the simple chords on an old acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder as he closed the distance between. Then he opened his mouth and started singing.
“My love…”
Bold, clear, beautifully in tune. Tears sprang to her eyes and she didn’t even care. She just wanted more. For a man who claimed to not be romantic, he certainly was proving himself wrong.
Persia had never in her life been serenaded. And as he strolled closer, she struggled to maintain her composure. Tears were one thing, but big, gut-wrenching, snot-flinging sobs might be the wrong message to send. When Warren shrugged in the most self-conscious way, she barked an incredulous laugh. He was nailing it, yet he still thought he sucked.
People filed out of the back door of the pack house to watch and listen. She barely noticed them. Her entire focus was on Warren. By the time he hit the second verse, he stood no more than a few feet away from her, so she joined in.
“Two hearts…”
Grinning like a blubbering madwoman, she stepped even closer and pretended her atonal voice sounded half as good as Warren’s. She gave no shits. This was their song now. Every word spoke to how she felt about him, and she knew in her heart it did for him too. From that day on, she’d sing it as badly and as loudly as she could, every time she heard it.
By the time their duet ended, they both were singing loud and proud, claiming their endless love for one another. Cheers and whoops sounded from the pack house, followed by raucous applause—even the sound of a small dog barking—but Warren didn’t so much glance in that direction.
Slinging the guitar behind his back, he closed the small gap between them and smiled down at her. She grinned right back, memorizing every inch of his face. In the distance, she heard a voice that sounded like Val’s telling everyone to get back inside and give the love birds some privacy. Persia made a mental note to send the woman some flowers. Or maybe ammunition. Whichever she’d like best.
“Hey, Red,” Warren murmured in his thick voice, his hand moving toward her as if he wanted to take her hand but then pulling back.
“Back atchya,” she replied, closing the distance between their hands and entwining her fingers in his.
They stood inches apart, his scent wrapping around her like a cozy blanket on a chilly night. Uncertainty rolled off him in waves, echoed by the worry in eyes that resembled the sea on a clear day.
“I’m so sorry,” he started, his voice low but firm. “I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. You need some time, and I get that. I’ll chill out, I just hope you’ll give me a chance to prove—”
Persia cut off his apology by pulling him into a fierce kiss. He froze for a moment and then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight. Their kiss turned deeper, his tongue slicking along her lips until she opened to him. The light in the sky darkened as they stood there kissing for the world to see, if the world was the slightest bit interested. That was fine by her. She wanted the world to know how much she cared for this brash, sexy, thoughtful, sweet country boy. And she hoped her kiss would show him too.
Finally breaking away, she took a few panted breaths before having enough air to speak. “I really don’t need flowers and serenading to fall in love with you, Warren. You’re pretty awesome, just as you are.”
His slightly muddled expression turned deathly serious. “You might not need it, but by god, my mate’s going to get it.”
As if her heart hadn’t been beating hard enough! Turning, she tugged his hand so he’d follow her. “Then we’d better get to that mating part. Don’t you think?”
Apparently, that was all the encouragement Warren needed. He chuckled and scooped her into his arms, sweeping her off her feet in one fluid move. He carried her inside, kicking the door to shut it behind them. Even before it clicked closed, she had her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips on his once more. Their tongues tangled while he navigated the space, her arousal rising with each slide, dip, and taste of him. Soon they were in the bedroom, Warren lowering her feet to the ground before encouraging her to back up. She shuffled across the floor, unwilling to lose his touch for even a moment. He tasted too good, too perfect.
The backs of her knees hit the mattress and she groaned, happy they’d found a horizontal surface. Warren broke their kiss just long enough to slip the strap of the guitar over his head and then he was back, talented tongue tormenting her once more. She was sure he had set the guitar aside somewhere, but she couldn’t care less. Not when his arms wrapped around her, hauling her close.
She reached for that torso that had taunted her this whole time and slid her fingers over the hard planes of his abs. She tugged and yanked on his shirt, exposing his bare skin to her palms. She explored his stomach, reveling in the feel of his heated flesh and deliciously carved muscles. She’d been denied long enough. She wanted to touch all of him, and she was going to, dammit!
Warren ran his fingers through her hair, and she sensed the loving desire in those large, rough hands of his. She lifted his shirt higher and pulled on the fabric, wanting it gone, and he understood, pausing long enough to rip it over his head and throw it aside. She swiped her tongue over his lips, taking in more of his taste. Sweet and hot and hers.
He gripped her waist and pushed her backward, tumbling onto the mattress, and she scrambled until she lay in the middle of the bed. He crawled after her, straddling her and cupping her cheek before capturing her lips for yet another kiss.
His thick cock pressed against her thigh, the hard length proving just how much he wanted her. The thought of his thickness had tormented her since they’d gotten so close to coming together. It’d only been three days and yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. It was a long, wild ride of passion and… love.
He reached for her breasts and she arched into his caress, anxious to have his mouth there—sucking, nipping, and tasting her. But just as he pinched a hard nub between his fingers, he released her and retreated. His brow furrowed, a hint of worry on his expression, and some of her need lessened. He gently grasped her chin in his hand, thumb stroking her lower lip.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Red?” His husky voice sent warm shivers down her spine.
“What’s going to happen?” she breathed.
“I’m going to slide into you, fill this pussy.” His voice made her want to get to that part right away, but she also wanted to know exactly what she was getting herself into. “And when we come—” Yes, please. “—I bite you.”
“That’s all?” she joked to hide a sudden bout of nerves.
“It’s a mating bite. Once in a lifetime,” he murmured. “It’ll turn you into a werewolf and tie us together as mates.” He lowered his forehead to hers, their gazes still locked. “There’s no going back from this, Red. You have to be ready and I don’t want to pressure you to take this step.”
Persia tipped her head back and kissed him slowly this time, their lips melding in a sensua
l caress that conveyed her feelings better than words could. It was sweet and delicious at the same time and she stroked the side of his face as their passion was stoked once again.
She pulled away slowly, their stares meeting once more, and she released the words in her heart. “All I want is you.”
The words hadn’t been planned, but they were so natural, so right. They came from her heart and once they left her lips, she knew they were right. This felt right. And Warren’s face practically glowed with her admission.
Warren descended on her as if the floodgates had burst open. He rained kisses down on her, tickling her and drawing a laugh. One that quickly turned into a gasp as he nipped her and released a low, rumbling growl. She should be afraid of the feral part of him—his wolf—but it only aroused her all the more.
He worked at her clothes, pulling and yanking until one after another, the pieces of fabric went flying through the air. Soon it was just the two of them—naked and bathed in the dim, romantic lighting.
Best of all was Warren’s raw, masculine scent surrounding her, sinking into her lungs until no thoughts existed beyond him. She took a moment to look him up and down, kneeling over her, that thick shaft hard and ready to fill her. Then their gazes collided, and she found that his craving mirrored her own. Her heartbeat fluttered when he reached for her breasts, massaging and tormenting her with his passionate touches. He was possessive but this wasn’t just about taking what was his. He caressed her and the more she allowed his hands to wander, the more loved she felt.
He kissed her breasts one at a time, capturing a nub between his lips and suckling the hard point. Each draw went straight to her pussy, her clit twitching and core clenching with the need to be filled. He repeated the caresses, drawing her need higher with each nip and suck until she writhed beneath him. She arched and pressed deeper into his mouth, wanting more from Warren. More and more and more…
