by Kyle, Celia
When the ginger wolf took another menacing step forward, he ducked his head between his arms and started sobbing. Any second now, sharp teeth would pierce his flesh and tear him apart. Probably slowly. And for the first time in his life, he admitted to himself he deserved it.
Hot breath feathered against the bare skin of his arms, but instead of pain, he felt something light fall onto his balled-up body and slide to the floor. He waited. And waited. Nothing more happened, not even any sounds. Daring to take a peek, he found the ginger wolf looming over him, its face in shadow, but there was enough light to see its lip pulled back far enough that drool dripped out and onto…
Was that a file folder?
Clearly the beast wanted him to look at it, so he very slowly reached for it and opened it. For a few seconds, his eyes couldn’t focus on the document inside because they continually flicked back up to make sure the wolves weren’t advancing on him. Then a specific word caught his attention, then another. Soon the words turned into sentences and paragraphs that made sense, yet…didn’t.
He scanned the pages as he flipped through them and then glanced up at the ginger wolf before going back to the beginning and reading the legal document more thoroughly. The attorney of record was listed as Persia Edgecomb. By the time he finished, the ginger wolf had taken two steps back. The light reflecting off the bar’s mirror shone on the animal’s face, and with a start, Dick realized it had one brown eye and one blue. Just like…
“Princess? Is that you?”
Another huge wolf—not the biggest in the room, but still bigger than the average dog—advanced and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the ginger wolf. Dick recognized it as the same one who’d jumped in to protect Persia, the same one he’d tried to shoot. It had to be the freak she’d talked about loving. Anger overpowered Dick’s fear.
“You motherf—”
Before he could finish, or so much as move, the wolf version of Persia lunged forward. Snap! Dick recoiled in terror as her jaws snapped so close to his face he felt her whiskers. Cringing back, he tried to focus on her.
“What do you want from me?”
The wolf near the desk, the one who obviously wanted to kill him, stood on his hind legs and grabbed Dick’s fountain pen between his teeth. Slowly, as if to torture him, the animal stalked toward him and then dropped the pen in Dick’s wet lap. He picked it up and looked at it as if he’d never seen a pen before. Then he looked at the folder. Then at Persia-wolf.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Persia. You want me to sign a purchase agreement for that goddamn chicken ranch?”
Maybe it was the realization that his soft-hearted daughter was leading this little foray, or maybe it was the influence of the first gulp of his fifth Scotch, but Dick finally found his balls.
“No fucking way,” he started, sitting up a little straighter and covering the mess in his pants with the folder. “I already told you, I’m not—”
The other five wolves advanced as one, joining Persia-wolf and her…whatever he was called. They snarled in unison, sending fear as hot as molten silver into Dick’s veins. Then they took a step toward him as one symbiotic unit.
“Stop!” he screeched, not recognizing his own high-pitched voice.
They all paused mid-step, each wolf’s right paw held inches over the floor, as if they’d practiced the move. Dick froze too, unsure if he was pissed or proud. Both? Didn’t matter. He was a dead man if he didn’t agree to move his development to the abandoned chicken ranch on the other side of Tremble, that much was clear by the hate burning in six sets of lupine eyes. The seventh…well, she’d always had a loving heart he’d both cursed and admired.
Unscrewing the cap on his Montblanc fountain pen, Dick scribbled his name or initials on all the pages Persia had marked with stickies and then tossed the folder at her feet. Er… paws.
“There! Happy now?”
Persia-wolf’s bi-colored eyes narrowed to slits as she closed the gap between them. Dick ducked and covered his head, waiting for his inevitable death. He prayed to a god he’d never believed in for it to be quick. He’d already experienced a taste of what a wolf could do when the one next to Persia had bit him in the woods, so he knew it wouldn’t be painless. After all he’d done, he had little doubt she would rip out his jugular and let the rest feast on his carcass.
Clamping his eyes shut, Dick waited for his just desserts. Whatever dignity he’d had in the seconds before the wolves surrounded him had soaked the front of his pants. He was ready for the end.
But instead of tearing flesh and spurting blood, one very big, very warm, very wet tongue traveled the length of his face, from the base of his jaw, all the way up his stubbly cheek, to the top of his head. Slimy wetness dripped down his face as he opened one eye to find Persia-wolf panting happily in front of him.
Gingerly picking up the file folder with her teeth, she wagged a fluffy, ginger tail as her gaze softened. One by one, five of the wolves sauntered out of Dick’s study, leaving only Persia-wolf and the sandy one whose name she’d taken. He stood in the doorway, keen eyes watching Dick as Persia-wolf stood before him, her intelligent gaze searching his face. Sadness flickered there when she couldn’t find what she wanted. Then she turned to follow the rest.
Dick watched her, still in shock that his own daughter had become one of them. They were freaks, aberrations, monsters! Yet, the way she’d talked about the guy she’d fallen for… He’d never felt such affection for anyone in his entire life, with the possible exception of Persia. He envied it. He envied her.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe there was hope for them. Maybe there was hope for him.
“Wait,” he whispered so quietly he barely heard himself, but Persia-wolf’s ears twitched and she stopped.
Looking over her furry shoulder, she watched and waited.
Swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, Dick mustered his courage. “I’m glad you’re happy, princess. I…” If ever there was a time to let his emotions show, this was it. Not bothering to choke back his tears, he continued. “I really do love you.”
Persia-wolf whined softly and then followed her pack into the night.
* * *
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Did you miss a book in the Real Men Shift series?
Book #1 - Real Men Howl at Amazon
Book #2 - Real Men Snarl at Amazon
Book #3 - Real Men Growl at Amazon
Book #4 - Real Men Heal at Amazon
Book #5 - Real Men Bite at Amazon
Book #6 - Real Men Claim at Amazon
Want more from the bodacious duo of Celia & Marina? Check out Having Her Enemy’s Secret Shifter Baby…
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“Shots, Jane. Shots!” Elizabeth slurred and wrapped her thin arm around Jane’s shoulders.
Jane Coleman smiled at her friend and unwound herself from Elizabeth’s grasp. Elizabeth’s breath could knock a fire-breathing dragon out of the night sky. “Don’t you think you’ve had plenty? Come on. I want to dance.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Elizabeth complained, slouching to one side as she spoke, almost like a marionette without a puppeteer. “You’ve barely had anything to drink all night.”
That, strictly speaking, was true. She’d had two beers on the beach earlier in the day and one Cosmo since they’d arrived at the bar, but she knew better than to get tipsy around her human friends. Tipsy werewolves were dangerous werewolves. Lowered inhibitions tempted her to shift into her wolf form. And as much as she loved the idea of sprinting down the beach, the sea breeze fluttering through her strawberry-blonde fur… the sight of a wolf running around a Ft. Lauderdale beach at the height of spring break might cause a panic. A tiny one.
Plus, after one too many, it was too easy to
forget she had to treat humans like porcelain or she might accidentally hurt someone. Normal human girls—like she was pretending to be—weren’t able to pick up a coffee table and chuck it across the room with one hand. Hell, her freshman year, she nearly tore a frat boy’s arm clean off when he grabbed her ass at a party. She’d experienced a twinge of regret that he’d lost his baseball scholarship because she dislocated his shoulder, but he certainly learned never to grope a woman without her permission.
“You know I don’t drink much,” Jane reminded her friend. “I just want to dance.” She tugged on Elizabeth’s arm. “Come dance with me!”
Elizabeth slouched away like a ragdoll and bumped gracelessly against the bar. “Please? One shot. We’ll toast to graduation.”
“That’s months away.”
“Oh, please! Everyone knows you’re going to graduate top of the class.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “We should celebrate!”
Though Elizabeth’s “celebrate” sounded more like celibate and Jane’s wolf pawed at her. It was not a big fan of the word “celibate” and liked to remind her of that. Often.
“You’re right, it’s you we have to worry about,” Jane teased. “Fine, one shot, but no more after this. One and done.”
“Fine.” Elizabeth sounded like her tongue was a little too big for her mouth. “What’re we drinking?”
Jane smiled broadly at the bartender, which was all it took to grab his attention. He practically stopped mid-pour and rushed to them.
“What can I get you, ladies?”
“Two shots of Don Julio with lime and salt, please.” Jane beamed and he blinked.
“Sure thing.”
He dashed back to the other side of the bar, and Elizabeth snorted and rolled her eyes.
“What?” Jane frowned at her friend.
“You.”
“What’d I do?”
“I think it’s magic. You have some weird voodoo, dick whisperer, pied piper of the penis thing. It’s like a supernatural power. You just have to think you want a guy’s attention and then—” Elizabeth snapped her fingers. Or tried. She couldn’t get her fingertips to touch each other and stared at her hand cross-eyed for a while before finally giving up and flailing her hands instead. “Poof! He’s there.”
Jane snorted as if Elizabeth’s words were ridiculous. She couldn’t let on that her friend was way too close to the truth. “I’m just like everyone else.”
“Nope, uh uh, no way,” Elizabeth said, as the bartender set their drinks in front of them.
“Thanks,” Jane said with a flirty smile, tossing her long, strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.
“No problem. This round’s on me.” He winked at Jane and then moved down the bar to help some other hapless maiden. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that she noticed he’d written his number on her cocktail napkin.
“Smooth,” Elizabeth sniffed. “How do I get them to do that? Or is it all about the boobage?” Elizabeth stared down at her own cleavage and jiggled her tits. “Do your job, dammit.”
Jane laughed. “What are you talking about? You’ve got great boobs.”
Elizabeth sighed, tossed back her shot, and then slammed the empty glass on the bar. She hissed as the tequila burned its way down her throat. “Don’t pretend you’re not built like one of those sexy mud flap girls.”
Jane quirked a brow and slid the shot glass out of her friend’s reach. “I think you’ve had plenty to drink now.”
Elizabeth always got like this when she drank. As a lifelong dancer, her frame was lean and wispy. She had very little in the chesticle region and next to no junk in her trunk.
And her point of comparison?
Jane. Always Jane. Or mud flaps, but that always circled back to Jane anyway.
It was one of the human quirks Jane had never understood and her wolf woofed its agreement. In the pack, no one focused on appearance. Okay, maybe it was only Jane who didn’t care. She’d never dressed to flaunt her bountiful curves. As the daughter of the alpha, it wouldn’t be seemly—or so he insisted.
“Elizabeth, let’s dance. I’m sick of standing around.”
Elizabeth shook her head and wobbled precariously. “No way. I’m heading back up to the room. If I try to dance, I’ll fall over.”
Jane felt a whisper of disappointment at calling it a night so early, but her bestie needed her. “Okay, let’s go.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, you stay and have fun. Enjoy yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jane tracked Elizabeth as she made her way into the hotel and kept an eye on her through the floor-to-ceiling windows until she boarded an elevator. Then she turned her attention to the darkened beach. The bar sat on the edge of the sand, lights casting a soft glow across the beach.
A handful of lovebirds danced at the edge of the circle of light, kicking up the sugary powder as they moved and dancing slowly despite the rapid beat of the music. She was tempted to move to the black space just beyond them, where she could see the stars glittering on the ocean’s surface like fireflies. Where she could be swallowed in the dark and enjoy being a faceless presence. She could do whatever she wanted and there wouldn’t be anyone to tell her it was “unseemly.”
Jane shook her head and made her way to the middle of the dance floor. She’d agreed to hit the bar with Elizabeth because she’d been promised dancing. Dammit, she was going to dance.
Shafts of light flashed in the delighted faces of the people crammed on the dance floor. The DJ’s light show was synced with the music, flashing a different color with every beat while the crowd jumped and danced to the up-tempo song. Just as quickly as the energy rose, it gradually settled into a gentle sway when a slower song filled the air. Jane closed her eyes and lost herself in the music, feeling the notes flow through her while she found her rhythm.
This was her time, her chance to unwind before the end of her career as a college student. After that? Her life would begin. Her human life. She’d find a job in her field of study—art history 4 lyfe—and do her best to “fit in.” Shifting wouldn’t be a part of her life anymore. Her wolf whined like it always did and Jane fought against giving in to that pitiful cry. It knew she’d become immune to its pouting and switched to growls instead, snarling its objection. It didn’t want to be turned into a second-class citizen inside her two-legged body.
She’d been born a werewolf. Why couldn’t she just be happy being a werewolf?
Jane mentally sighed. She had plans. Eventually she’d find a nice human man with his nice, boring human life, and then they’d settle down with a house and a white picket fence.
Couldn’t it see the benefit to a life in the suburbs? No fighting. No dominance games. No alpha telling her how to live her life or declare her actions “unseemly”?
She seriously hated that word.
Jane got back to reminding her wolf of “the plan.”
Children were out of the question, of course. She’d heard that mixed-breed babies had more trouble controlling their shifts than full-blooded wolves. She wouldn’t be able to hide her true nature if she had to control a feral child and she was determined not to risk being discovered.
Of course, her parents wouldn’t like her decision, especially her domineering father.
Her wolf nudged her, telling her that it agreed with her dad and she shouldn’t turn her back on her wolf heritage. She pushed the beast to the back of her mind, shoving it away from her surface thoughts. It retreated with an echoing growl, telling her that she should be thankful to have such a good alpha.
And her father really was a good alpha to the Coleman pack, but she couldn’t wait to be out from under his thumb and away from Wilde Mountain. He expected so much from her… Too much. She’d never asked to be the daughter of an alpha, so why should she have to abide by his arbitrary rules?
Rejecting life in the pack would be unthinkable, as far as he was concerned, and she had no doubt he’d put up a fight.
A wave of sadness
washed over her and she closed her eyes. Lights flashed orange behind her closed eyelids and she struggled to move with the blood-thumping beat of the music.
As much as she hated the idea of staying with the pack, she’d also miss her parents—her mother’s smiling face and father’s grumbles and growls. But she had no choice. She would live life on her own terms, and if her father couldn’t accept that, she’d go somewhere her pack could never find her.
A hacker at school had already agreed to create her new identity… for a price. All that was left was to pick a place her family would never think to look for her and her life could begin.
And she only had a few months left.
Excitement overrode the twinge of sadness. Biting back a smile, Jane lost herself in the music again, rolling her hips along with the bassline and dropping low every now and then. Without anyone around her she felt freer than she had in years. She let her hair swish across her back as she moved.
But like all good things, it had to come to an end.
Something—someone—bumped against her back, and weak human hands slid around her waist. The stink of sweat, cloying cologne, and alcohol stung her nose and she tried to shimmy away, hoping the guy would get the hint and let her go.
He didn’t.
Instead, he gripped her tighter, pulled her ass into his crotch and whispered in her ear. “I like the way you move, baby.”
Baby? She wasn’t his baby.
Her inner wolf wanted to turn around and teach the human male why it was a bad idea to lay his hands on a werewolf. With one hand, she’d grip his wrist so hard his bones splintered. With the other… she’d ensure baby-making wasn’t in his future. Ever.
This stranger wasn’t an alpha, hence, not worthy of her. Except… Accepting the touch of human males was part of assimilating into human life, right? No human male could compare to the strength of even the weakest wolf, much less the alpha her position in the pack demanded.
She groaned and her wolf snarled. She’d have to get used to being around weak men. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant living life on her own terms.