Howl for It

by Shelly Laurenston

  Gage’s head snapped their way.

  Ah . . . shifter hearing. His eyes narrowed on Jonah. Yep, that was a flash of fury in his gaze.

  I fucking love you. His words whispered through her mind again.

  So it hadn’t been a candlelit confession. No roses and fancy dinner and sweet words.

  It had just been—Gage. Heat of the moment. In the middle of the fight. Rough. Hard.

  Her wolf.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Jonah told her. “The wolves—they should just be left alone.”

  Her eyes were on Gage. “I don’t want to leave them alone.”

  Jonah stiffened. “Uh, what?”

  Gage stalked toward her. He was wearing jeans now. Someone in the pack had brought backup clothing for everyone.

  Prepared pack.

  “I’m not going back,” Kayla said. She’d always feared a wolf ’s claws. Hated the power of the beast.

  But Gage was different. His beast made her feel safe.

  He made her feel loved.

  “Kayla, it was just a job!” Jonah sounded more than a little desperate. “Just a mission gone bad!”

  “No.” Gage was almost on them. Her words weren’t really for Jonah anymore. They were for Gage. It was time for him to understand. “It wasn’t just a mission for me.”

  “Aw, hell. ” Jonah stepped back in surprise. “You did fall for the wolf.”

  Gage’s gaze swept over Jonah. “You’re . . . healing.”

  “Yes, well, a slash to the arm can take some—”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” Gage flashed his fangs. “You ever shoot at her again and I’ll—”

  “I’ll be damned.” Jonah’s jaw dropped. He shook his head, and took a minute to recover before he said, “You love my sister.”

  Kayla frowned at him. Did he have to sound so shocked? Gage blinked and looked annoyed. Just the way she felt. Gage said, “I married her, didn’t I?”

  It really was that simple. But she’d been too blind—too scared and desperate—to see the truth from the beginning. It wasn’t about packs.

  About mates.

  About hunters.

  It was just about them. Man and woman.

  Need. Lust. Desire.

  Love.

  “But the real question is . . .” Gage’s voice had deepened and his focus was on her. Totally. “Just why the hell did she marry me?”

  The wolves were watching. Her brother stared with wide eyes.

  Kayla didn’t speak.

  Jonah cleared her throat. “Um, see, man, there was this mission . . . ”

  Gage shoved her brother away. Shamus grabbed Jonah’s arm before he could charge back at him.

  “Was it just the mission?” Gage wanted to know. “Tell me.”

  Kayla shook her head. He had to hear the mad galloping of her heart. The drumbeat filled her ears. So loud.

  “Then why?”

  So many eyes on them. So many. She knew how important this moment was. To the wolves. To her.

  To Gage.

  She lifted her right hand—and realized she was still holding the gun. Jonah’s backup weapon. The one he kept loaded with silver.

  She tucked it into her waistband and lifted her hand again.

  “Why?” Gage demanded.

  She smiled at him. The pain and horror of the past were slipping away. Her hand touched Gage’s strong chest. “Because you’re mine, wolf.”

  She heard the growls of approval from the pack.

  Mine.

  “And I don’t plan to ever let you go.” The pack would need to get used to that fact. Deal with it. They’d have a hunter in their midst from now on.

  She wasn’t afraid of the big, kick-ass wolf. She loved him too much for fear.

  Kayla pulled her wolf closer. Stood on her toes. And kissed him.

  She’d promised forever at that little chapel, and forever was exactly what she’d give him.

  Wolves weren’t the only ones who mated for life. Humans could sure as hell do that, too.

  Forever.

  Gage’s arms closed around her, and she knew . . . she was just where she was supposed to be. With the man who loved her.

  She was home. At last.

  EPILOGUE

  The bride took slow, deliberate steps down the aisle. The minister smiled at her, but he was sweating.

  Hmmm . . . wonder if the guy knew he was in a room full of wolf shifters and hunters?

  The hunters were on her side of the chapel. Looking fairly nice and presentable. No black ski masks. No weapons. They’d better not have brought weapons to her wedding.

  The wolves were on the groom’s side. Again . . . fairly nice and presentable. As long as you didn’t look too closely. If you did, you might see the flash of some fangs. Maybe a few claws.

  The groom waited at the end of the aisle. He wasn’t smiling. He’d smiled before. On her first walk down the aisle. Back then, he’d looked so casual and open, but that cool appearance had been a lie.

  There weren’t going to be any more lies between them. Not now.

  That was why they were starting over. This time, they were getting things right.

  “You okay?” her brother whispered. Kayla turned her head and found Jonah watching her with worried eyes.

  What? Did he think she was going to break and run? She was already married to the wolf.

  But Gage had insisted on another ceremony. One in front of the pack. One without any kind of deceit.

  One to tell their kids about.

  Whatever. I’m telling the kiddos about the first marriage. And the wild ride of fighting and running that followed.

  Because she never wanted to lose those memories.

  “Kayla?” Now Jonah was paling. Probably because he was afraid he’d have to tangle with a little chapel full of big old wolves.

  She smiled at him. “Everything’s gonna be all right.”

  He exhaled on a slow breath. Then nodded.

  Poor guy. He was getting used to the wolves now, slowly. The Vegas wolves had started working with the group of hunters that were left. They were all rescuing those unjustly imprisoned under Lyle’s psychotic reign. And stopping the real supernatural threats that were still out there.

  Having a wolf on your side could be a very, very good thing.

  Kayla stopped walking and stood just in front of Gage. So strong. So dangerous.

  So hers.

  A very good thing.

  The minister/preacher guy started talking. She was supposed to be listening. This was all important.

  She couldn’t hear anything but her own heartbeat.

  She couldn’t look away from Gage’s eyes.

  Had wolves really haunted her nightmares for years? Because she couldn’t imagine her life without this one wolf.

  Then Jonah placed her hand on top of Gage’s. She repeated vows—for the second time. She pretty much had no idea what she said, but that didn’t matter.

  Because soon Gage was kissing her and she was kissing him back. She had her forever, and it was the best thing in the world.

  The best.

  The wolves howled and the hunters cheered . . . and Kayla got her happy ending.

  Gage carried her over the threshold. Not some too-pink honeymoon suite this time. But into his home. His bed.

  Not that they were gonna make it that far . . .

  Kayla was already stripping him.

  He tried to slow her down. “Sweetheart, let’s go slow, let’s . . .”

  Her hand was on his cock. He shuddered. Okay. Screw slow. They could do that one next time. They had nothing but time now.

  They made it to the couch. He pulled off her dress—she’d been so beautiful in it—then stared at her white garter belt with desperate eyes.

  “Um, Kayla?” His hand tightened on her thigh. “You weren’t wearing any panties.” Just that sexy as hell garter and thigh-high stockings. Hot enough to make a man drool.

  She smiled. “I figured I�
��d save us a step.”

  And even though lust was freaking eating him alive, laughter burst from him.

  Kayla. She’d gotten to him from the very first moment. Wrapped him around her little, lethal fingers.

  He spread her legs. “Well, if it saves us a step . . .” He put his mouth on her. Licked and kissed that delicate flesh and grew even more frantic for her.

  Love her taste.

  Her hips arched against him. She was wet. Ready. But he wasn’t done tasting.

  His tongue slid into her. His thumb pushed over her clit.

  She shivered beneath him. Her nails dug into his back, marking him. For a human, the woman sure had some strong she-wolf tendencies.

  He stroked her again. Licked.

  And felt the tightening of her muscles around him. That was it. Just a little more . . .

  Kayla came against his mouth.

  It was gonna be one hell of a night.

  Gage used his teeth to pull down her stockings. He took his time licking and kissing her skin.

  “Gage!”

  Definite she-wolf tendencies.

  He thrust into her. Sank as deep as he could go. It still wasn’t deep enough. Would anything with her ever be enough?

  He kissed her. Withdrew. Thrust. Her legs wrapped around him. Her arms held him tight.

  Nothing else was this good. This perfect.

  The beast inside was snarling. Wild for his mate, and his mate was wild for him.

  Kayla’s nails scratched down his back.

  When she came again, he erupted within her seconds later. Just the start.

  He’d make sure that the woman screamed with pleasure every day of her life. Every. Single. Day.

  Gage wrapped his arms around her. After a while, he finally managed to get them to the bedroom. This time, he wouldn’t have to worry about a silver knife being shoved at his heart in the middle of the night.

  Kayla already had his heart. She didn’t need to try and take it again. It was hers to keep, for the rest of their lives.

  He lowered her onto the bed and stared down at the hunter who’d come for him. His wife.

  No, there would be no silver knives this time. They would get a real honeymoon. And if they didn’t . . .

  He just might have to kill someone.

  Gage climbed into bed with her and pressed a kiss to Kayla’s lips.

  Forever had never tasted so good.

  Can’t get enough Shelly Laurenston?

  Get to know her arrogantly sexy dragon shapeshifters, whom she writes about as G. A. Aiken.

  An excerpt of this month’s release, How to Drive a Dragon Crazy, follows....

  “Iz!”

  Izzy heard her dragon cousin’s screamed warning and was able to move her body out of the way in time to avoid the ogre attacking from behind, but the blade of his flint axe cut across her arm. The wound began to bleed almost immediately and she knew she’d have to get it sewn up. But she refused to worry about that now. Not with the ogre leader in her sights at last. She could see him about thirty feet away. So very close.

  Izzy spun, swung the club, and slammed it into the neck of the bastard behind her as he tried to run away. He went down face first and Izzy pulled out her sword and rammed it into the back of the beast’s head.

  “Izzy.”

  She heard her name called again, this time by a much different voice than her cousin Branwen, but she had to ignore it as she was being attacked again. Gods, the ogres just keep coming.

  She blocked the flint mace aimed for her face by using the club she still held in her left hand and cut the thick arteries inside the ogre’s thighs with her sword. She spun and slashed her sword again, cutting a throat, spun again and swung, but her blade was stopped by an obscenely large battle axe. She knew the weapon was not an ogre’s. They only used flint weapons and although deadly were often crudely made. This was a well-made weapon forged by a true blacksmith.

  So Izzy struck at the knees with the club she still held. The heavy flint made contact and there was an angry snarl from beneath the heavy fur cape that covered the face and body of the axe wielder.

  “Izzy! Stop!”

  She ignored the command and swung the blade again. A big gloved hand reached out and shoved her back.

  “Gods-dammit, Izzy! It’s me!” He yanked the hood of his cape back, revealing his handsome face and dark blue hair. Some of it in braids with leather strips, feathers, and small animal bones tied throughout. “It’s Éibhear.”

  “Yeah,” Izzy answered honestly. “I know.”

  Then she pulled back her arm and threw the sword she held directly at his head.

  Éibhear knew that because of his size, it was believed he was quite slow. Lumbering was a word he’d often heard used from those seeing him doing nothing more than standing. Yet at that moment when he saw the short sword coming right at him, thrown by a woman who clearly knew what she was doing, Éibhear would say he’d never been so grateful that everyone was wrong. He was fast. Very fast. And it was that speed, being able to drop to the ground in seconds, that really saved his life.

  Once he hit the ground, he looked up and saw that Izzy was running right at him. He wasn’t sure if she was coming to finish him off or just kick the shit from him, but the thought of batting her away or blasting her with his flame—stupidly—never entered his head.

  He would never know why.

  When Izzy reached him, she snatched his short sword from his belt and leaped up, one foot landing on his shoulder. She used that foot to launch herself, lifting her body, and spinning in the air. Éibhear turned over and watched as Izzy raised the sword that most human males couldn’t lift and shove it into the nine-foot ogre that had stood behind Éibhear. He’d been so focused on Izzy, he hadn’t even been aware of the big bastard wearing a human skull on a chain around his neck.

  But even with the sword buried in the top of his head, the ogre wasn’t dead yet. He was snarling and snapping at Izzy as she hung there, and that’s when she spoke to the green bastard. Éibhear had no idea what she said, but he was positive the ogre did. And the words were so guttural, so vile sounding that he knew she was speaking the ancient language of the ogres.

  When Izzy finished, she released her hold on the sword and dropped to the ground. With one good kick to the ogre’s stomach, she knocked him on his back and walked around until she was able to look him in the eye. Gripping in both hands the club she still held, she raised it above her head and brought it down once, smashing the ogre’s face in.

  It was then that Éibhear realized this must be the ogre leader because all the surviving ogres stopped fighting and began to turn and run back toward the mountains in the distance, probably to choose another leader and regroup. Izzy seemed to know that as she yanked Éibhear’s blade from the dead leader’s head.

  “All of you!” Izzy called out while walking back toward Éibhear. “Don’t let them reach the caves. Kill them all! Now move!”

  Izzy stopped by Éibhear’s side, looked him over. “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “To bring you home.”

  “Can’t.” She dropped the blade on his stomach, Éibhear barely catching it before the blade possibly cut something vital. “Not done.”

  She turned away from him, dismissing him without a backward glance. “Lieutenant Alistair.” A full-human male rode up to her.

  “General!”

  “Rally the men. Pull several to get the wounded to healers. We’ll deal with the dead later. I want those ogres meeting their green-skinned ancestors before the moon’s high in the sky. Do you understand?”

  “Aye, General.”

  “Go.”

  He rode off and another female rode to Izzy’s side.

  “Fionn. How are we looking?”

  “Good, Iz. But there’s still some fight left in the South Valley.”

  “Take a contingent and strike them down.”

  “Your arm, General,” the woman Fionn pushed.

  “Yeah, ye
ah. I know, Colonel. I’ll deal with it.” She laughed, waved the woman away.

  Then, without even looking at him again, Izzy walked off, leaving him lying there.

  “I don’t know why you look so shocked,” a voice said from beside him and he looked up into the face of his cousin Branwen. “What did you expect from her? To drop to her knees and suck your cock right here?”

  Well . . . it had crossed his mind.

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