by Alana Khan
The tiniest pang of sadness pierces me because I know what’s coming soon. I quit trying to hide my envy weeks ago, because when your mate can read your mind, keeping secrets is nigh unto impossible.
Although at first I wasn’t sure I wanted to be able to shift, now I long for it. We both gave up hoping about a month after our mating ceremony. We seldom mention it anymore, which probably isn’t healthy, but talking about it makes us both sad.
Bayne even offered not to shift because he knows it makes me hunger for something I’ll never have, but what kind of person would I be if I asked for such a thing?
So I try to take joy in watching WarDog’s enthusiastic play, and his unmuted happiness when he returns from a hard run.
I won’t be long, Love, Bayne says. Perhaps he sensed that my melancholy is sharper today than usual.
Take your time. I love to watch you having fun. At least that’s true.
He removes his clothes and folds them neatly in a pile at my feet, then swiftly shifts. WarDog laps at my hand, turns, and runs toward the sunny hillock about half a mile away.
My heart clenches in a potent combination of adoration and yearning. I love my two guys so deeply. I thank God every day that I found this depth of love.
Why did Bayne ever tell me I might be able to shift? Perhaps if he hadn’t dangled it in front of me I wouldn't want it so desperately. But, I scold myself, he didn’t dangle it to tease me. He was making certain I had informed consent before we mated.
I love you, I call in my mind, knowing they’re about to leave telepathic range. Good. I don’t want them hearing even a whisper of my morose longings.
I imagine what it would be like to run free like WarDog. What it would feel like to have four paws to press into the soft soil, or to smell every scent in the forest, or to run so fast my hair would whip in the breeze.
Then I feel an odd sensation deep in my belly, or is it my chest? It’s warm and tight and swirly. My brain fogs over and I feel weak in the knees. The disorientation lasts a moment, and I shake my head trying to dispatch my confusion.
Am I shifting?
Yes. I hear the voice clear as a bell in my head. It’s both foreign and familiar at the same time.
You’re my inner canine? I hold my breath, hardly daring to believe.
Joy surges through me as I release a breath which becomes a squeal of excitement. How do I do this?
Easy, she says, just let me out.
Easy? Really? I shrug my shoulders and as I drop them, I relax and picture a door opening in my mind.
Yes. We’re connected. You have me now. We’ll always be together.
The door opens and she steps through.
I have just enough time to yank my tunic over my head before the shift slams into me in earnest.
When Bayne first told me about it, I had worried it would hurt. It should hurt when you consider the cataclysmic changes and strain it puts on the body.
My bones are morphing in size and shape, my internal organs are rearranging, and . . . holy shit, my teeth are elongating! But I just watch the changes. They aren't painful!
When it’s supposed to happen, it doesn’t hurt, my canine lovingly informs me.
She’s beautiful. Her fur is a warm caramel, and her tail and mane are a mix of caramel and the same color brown as my hair. Her luminous eyes are the same brown as mine. When I compliment her, her gaze dips to the ground. She’s a bit bashful. How cute.
I’m on all fours now. My vision is sharper, but colors are muted. My body feels large and powerful and strong. Amazing. I did it. I shifted. My canine barks in enthusiastic agreement, tail wagging with the same exuberance I’ve seen countless times on WarDog.
She can’t stand still for one more second. Her urge to run can’t be denied. It takes a few slow steps as I try to get the hang of all fours.
Stop directing me, she huffs good-naturedly. Just let go, I’ve got this.
Right. I let go. Then she’s loping, and in less than a minute she’s running, taking huge strides and barely panting with the effort.
Holy shit! This is magnificent! I’ll never shift back.
Yes, she agrees.
I realize that although she’s canine, she’s never had a body to run in before, either. I’ll just let her run and run until her body falls into a furry heap, and when she regains her strength we’ll run again.
The smells! She smells everything. Everything. Every varmint and critter from here to Sanctuary and back. I smell the decomposing leaves and . . . I even smell the sunshine. Smells that were gross to my human nose smell wonderful now. Well, if not wonderful, then they certainly smell exciting.
I smell WarDog. It’s as if he left a trail of neon blue smoke for me to track. It’s ridiculously obvious. Why did I never notice this before? She follows it easily and we see that WarDog does not like straight lines. He veers off, inspecting every nook and cranny of this forest. She follows his trail and discovers all the cool things he found along the way.
There he is. Standing on the hillock in the sun, his nose pointed in the air. I wouldn’t have understood yesterday, but now it’s obvious he’s smelling the sun. It’s pungent and reassuring at the same time.
All of a sudden, I’m not content to watch from afar. We both feel the urgent need to run to him. I don’t just want to be with him, it’s a desperate, urgent demand.
I realize that even though we share the same body in different forms, our thoughts and emotions are separate but shared. I had no idea just how this was for Bayne and WarDog. It’s amazing and intimate and confusing and comforting to know I will never again be alone. I’m slowly differentiating what I’m feeling and what is coming from my new and very special friend. That pressing, frantic, insistent desire is all hers.
I know the instant he senses her, and I watch as he turns his gaze in our direction. I’ve seen this look on his face a thousand times, but it’s so much more expressive when I’m looking through the eyes of my canine form. He loves us. But now it’s tinged with something else—desire.
He wants her. And she wants him. In my canine form, I think she desires WarDog as much as I desire Bayne.
This is the way it should be, Bayne assures me with the same feeling of wonder and surprise and delight that I am feeling
He runs to us. She holds back the urge to run and waits for him. He’s approaching so fast his fur is sleaked back by the breeze he’s creating.
Mate. Mine, he says.
Mate. Mine, she replies, unable to drag her eyes from her mate.
He’s running so fast he has to skid to a stop when he arrives in front of her.
He play-nips her mouth, and she play-nips right back until he runs back onto the sunny hillside, and she runs after him.
Your name? he asks, cocking his head.
Willa? she answers, not having a proper canine name.
Can I call you Beauty? It suits you.
Oh yes, she sighs with a huge canine smile.
It is a perfect name for her. It shouldn’t surprise me that WarDog is as loving and demonstrative as Bayne
Let’s let them have this time Bayne voices in my mind.
Yes, I agree. I pull back so Beauty can fully experience the wonder of her mate while Bayne and I share in their delight. Certainly, WarDog has done this for us so many times before. They circle and play and bark at each other. I always wondered what dog noises meant. Now I know.
Watching them and experiencing them vicariously, I’ve never felt so free in my life.
Then she smells his desire. He isn’t shy about sniffing her arousal either. She wants him. This will cement everything our relationship has been hurtling toward since the first moment we met in the cell on that slave ship. The three of us are in a relationship and this binds it more than any words can say. No, what am I saying? It’s the four of us now.
Love, mine, mate, WarDog says as he climbs onto her back, his forearms pulling her toward him, his sex at her ready opening. His huge mouth bites into her s
houlder, holding her, marking her.
Beauty welcomes him inside her body and basks in the feeling of connection until their act is complete. In long swipes, he licks her face and the bite marks that will stay to match the ones I proudly bear on my shoulder.
Somehow, Bayne and I are naked on the soft, green grass, our limbs entwined.
You shifted, Love, he says with a sated smile.
I’d given up hope.
Me too. But here we are. Mated shifters.
Our kids will be, too? I ask.
Perhaps. Will it matter?
I pull him so tight I half expect to hear the sound of bones breaking. No. That’s just a detail. None of it matters. Nothing. So long as we’re together and we love each other.
You’re right. We have everything we need and everything we want, he says, his eyes luminous with love. Let’s go back to Sanctuary, we’ve got a herd to tend to. Do you have clothes? He asks as he eyes me up and down.
A tunic. I imagine my pants are shredded.
We’ll hide some clothes in the forest in case your next shift takes you by surprise.
I’m overcome by a bolt of love so strong it almost hurts as I realize this is my life. This is what I have to look forward to for the rest of my days. I have a purpose, a herd to tend to and gardens to weed. I have a home, a family unrelated by blood, the freedom to be who we really are, and a sanctuary in which to live.
And, I sigh, I have a mate who loves me and always thinks of what he can do to make me happy as well as how to protect me.
Yes, Love. He throws his arms around me and tugs me close.
We send each other mental images of our inner animals. Both are passed out in postcoital bliss with canine smiles on their faces. WarDog gets his happy ever after, too.
Six months ago I never would have dreamed of anything more than the life I had. Somehow, life conspired to gift me with so much more.
The End
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed WarDog and Willa’s journey. It was a lot of fun writing WarDog and Bayne’s inner banter as well as the wonderful romance they enjoyed with their mates.
If you’ve been following our intrepid gladiators from the beginning, I hope Daneur Khour’s death gave you a feeling of satisfaction. I tried to use restraint, so you didn’t have to run for your barf bag, while still allowing you to feel the gladiators’ triumph of defeating their mortal enemy.
Have you already figured out what’s next in store? Stryker and Maddie’s story is next (keep scrolling for their first chapter).
I also hinted at the new series in the Alanaverse—Sanctuary. I want Sanctuary to provide our gladiators with a home base, as well as a place for abducted females to dream about during their difficult captivities. What nefarious plans does Naomi have? What is to come of the poor debilitated Ton’Arr, So’Lan? Will our downtrodden folks ever catch a break and get a chance to have some fun at the Fairean fair? All good questions that will be answered in due time.
Instead of me begging, picture 200-pound WarDog with his cute golden eyes and his paws up in the classic doggy-begging pose. If he could talk, he’d be asking you to take two minutes out of your busy schedule to review his book on Amazon. Reviews are the kindest thing you can do for an indie author like me. It gives my work legitimacy and helps people new to my work feel confident to try me out. Thanks in advance.
Want to be the first to know about upcoming books, giveaways, cover reveals, and more? Subscribe to my newsletter. I won’t spam you. For my latest contest, the winner got the name of her choosing as a character in an upcoming book! Fun, huh? You’ll also get a copy of my free book, Terminus, which is Shadow’s backstory. Subscribe here.
Sneak Peek of Stryker Book Thirteen in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series
Chapter One
Stryker
Look at her. Gods, she’s beautiful. Sometimes, when she lets me sleep in her cabin, I force myself to stay awake after sex. When she’s fast asleep, I turn on the light in the refresher so it casts a glow into the room and I just watch her.
I love to look at her. She won’t let me tell her she’s beautiful. It’s one of the many rules she laid down early in the relationship. I don’t even know if I can call what we have a relationship. I’m not sure what this is. Other than that I love her.
I keep the lights off during sex. Another of her rules. I know she can’t stand to see my face. Who would? It’s badly scarred from injuries when I fought as a gladiator. They threw me in with that feline beast from Abachae without even a six-inch dirk to protect myself much less a sword to attack him with. I was badly mauled. I wouldn’t look at my face either if I didn’t have to. I understand.
My cock is hard already, even though we had sex less than an hoara ago. Shit. That’s another of her rules. I called it making love once and that made her very unhappy. She didn’t have to tell me not to say it again. The way the corners of her mouth turned down and her pretty brown eyes filled with tears was enough to make an impact even on my thick skull.
We’ve known each other for over an annum. I was on a space vessel on my way to a slave auction with nine other gladiators when our captors threw an Earth female into each of our cells. Within an hoara they forced us to mate upon threat of death.
She was terrified. I could smell her fear. Her eyes were so wide the white showed all the way around. I tried to put my head in the shadows so she wouldn’t have to look at me. But that day I don’t think she could have identified my face if pressed to do so. She was too busy looking at my cock. It scared her more than my face.
I waited as long as I could before I approached her, but we weren’t given time to get to know each other. I was gentle and didn’t hurt her. I talked to her and tried to calm her. It didn’t work—she was petrified.
Later, she divulged how much she appreciated how hard I tried to calm her fears. Despite my efforts, she cried all through it, though, which made it difficult for me to stay hard. I’ve never found it arousing to hurt anyone. But we got through it and began an easy truce.
The gladiators staged a revolt within a week. We commandeered the ship and now we’re speeding through the galaxy making money from gladiator matches where we get to keep our own purses. Almost all the money I earn goes back to the ship. My contribution makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself.
We’ve formed a family on this ship, as well as adding another vessel to our little armada. We’re all escaped slaves just trying to stay one step ahead of the Feds and our former owners, the MarZan cartel.
Many of those original couples have formed permanent matings. Maddie and I, though, are what she calls ‘fuck buddies’. I never let her know how this designation squeezes my heart. I just try to be the same Stryker I’ve always been. I’m a male who has a strong sense of right and wrong, and I’m loyal. It’s my fondest hope that one day she’ll want us to be more than fuck buddies.
I’ve bonded with her. I love her, although I know better than to say it. That’s why I like to stay awake until she’s sleeping heavily. I wind a strand of her springy brown hair around one of my huge fingertips, and I whisper how much I love her without fearing her rejection.
It doesn’t matter how good I think we are together. She needs to feel that way, too. Obviously, she doesn’t.
Although I don’t understand why she rejects me yet shares her body with me, I sometimes get the feeling something eats at her from the inside. If she would only share her worries and concerns with me, I would be able to make everything better. I’m strong and fearless. If she would reveal what weighs on her so heavily, I will go to the ends of the galaxy to fix it.
I’ve asked, but she denies anything is wrong.
There’s one way we’re compatible. In bed. She seldom grants me permission to sleep with her, but she’s never said no to sex. I love to provide her endless pleasure, and she’s never failed to make me feel good. It’s the one place she’s giving. Generous in fact.
; I press my nose under her ear and nuzzle her, then suck in a deep, humid breath. We’ve been together long enough that I know every move, every technique to arouse her. She loves to be awakened like this—fully ready for sex.
Once she even let it slip why she liked it. She said this way’s the best because she doesn't get in her own way. I’m not certain what that means, but I think sometimes it’s hard for her mind to shut down enough for the pleasure to take over. When she wakes up wet and wanting, though, she can dive into the act. Even though it’s with me.