by J. L. Wilder
Today they were stopped by a clear spring. They’d both drunk their fill, and now Ozzy was watching the fish swimming lazily by in the slow current. The two of them hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous afternoon, and though Natalie hadn’t complained, Ozzy could see that it was wearing on her.
“I think I’ll try to fish,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, and he knew that he’d been right in thinking that she was holding back her complaints. “What can I do to help?”
“Not much, I don’t think.” He hesitated. “I’m going to have to shift to do this.”
He hadn’t shifted in front of her since that first night. He was too worried that he had frightened her. But now it was necessary. If they were going to get fish, wolf jaws would be much more effective than human hands.
“If you really want to help,” he said, “you can try to shift with me.”
He’d put off asking her about that. He knew she didn’t believe she could do it. And in all honesty, she probably couldn’t. If she’d been repressing her animal side for all these years, it was hard to imagine it coming out now.
Still, they would have to try sometime. It would be better for her if she had some experience in her animal form by the time they reached Washington.
Not that they would be reaching Washington any time soon. They had only crossed the state line into Pennsylvania this morning.
But if she were a wolf, they could travel much faster.
She was looking at him as if he was out of his mind. “I can’t do that,” she told him. “I told you I couldn’t.”
“You can, though,” he said. “The potential for it is inside you. It always has been. You just haven't mastered the technique.”
She shook her head. She looked almost afraid. “I can’t do it,” she said again.
Ozzy nodded. The last thing he wanted was to press her into this new life she was joining. He wanted her to embrace her nature as a shifter, to embrace life within the pack. He didn’t want her to feel forced.
“Okay, then,” he said. “You can just watch me this time.”
He stripped down and waded into the water. Immediately, the fish scattered, of course—but that was okay. Fish were stupid. They would be back.
Shifting in the water was even more natural than shifting on land. The current swept around his legs, and he imagined that he could feel it pulling his innermost self to the surface. His toes curled in the muck at the bottom of the stream as his body hunched forward, assuming its animal shape.
From the shore, he heard Natalie gasp.
A bit of his humanity remained, as it always did, and he turned to look at her. She looked agitated, he thought, but maybe she looked curious. She hadn’t backed away from the water’s edge, and that was something.
He turned his attention back to the fish, holding his body as still as a statue. They were starting to come close again now, clearly having forgotten the alarm that had driven them away in the first place. Several fat trout clustered around his forelegs.
He moved with speed and precision, lowering his head, clamping his jaw loosely around the largest and fattest of the fish. It flopped desperately in his mouth as he lifted his face from the stream, his muzzle dripping.
He heard a splash and turned his head. What he saw nearly caused him to drop his fish in surprise.
Natalie had slid down off the bank and into the water and was now wading toward him.
He stood still in the current, watching her uncertainly, waiting to see what she would do.
She came to his side, reached out hesitantly, and rested a hand on his shoulder.
She’s not afraid.
She made eye contact with him and held it as she reached for the fish that was in his mouth. He waited until she had gotten a solid grip on it before releasing it into her hands and allowing her to return to shore with it.
By the time she’d climbed up on the bank, the fish that had been disrupted by her presence in the water had forgotten her and returned. It was the work of a moment for Ozzy to dip his head and catch another fat trout. Then he waded back to shore, gripping the fish in his jaws, and placed it on the ground beside Natalie.
“You’ll have to teach me how to do that someday,” she said quietly.
It was the first time she had acknowledged, with her own voice, that she truly was a shifter. It was the first time Ozzy had known for certain that she believed him.
THEY BUILT A FIRE A half-mile west of the stream and laid their fish over it to cook.
“How did you learn to do it?” Natalie asked as they waited, the tantalizing smell of cooking meat wafting toward them in the wind.
“To fish?” he asked. “I'm self-taught, I guess. Ordinarily, the alpha of the pack would teach the others, but our pack hasn’t had a good alpha in years.”
“You haven’t?”
“Not since before I was born,” he said. “Not since before you were born.”
She swatted his arm. “All right, I get it. I’m older than you are. You don’t need to make me feel so ancient.”
He laughed. “I don’t mean to,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about your age as relative to mine for a really long time. Out of everyone in the pack, I was probably the most interested in your story. Someday I'll show you all my research, everything I wrote down.”
“You must have sensed that you would imprint on me one day,” she said.
He shook his head. “Definitely not,” he said. “I can’t deny that it’s happened, and I’m glad it did, but I never expected it. It’s really going to complicate things.”
“Why?” she asked.
“My brother Randy is our pack’s alpha,” he said after a beat.
“So?”
“I guess you wouldn't know. Traditionally, it’s the alpha who mates with the omega,” he said. “When I came to find you—”
“You thought you’d be delivering a mate to your brother?” She sounded horrified.
“No!” he said quickly. “I thought...well, there are a lot of us who question Randy’s right to hold the alpha position. My father was our previous alpha, but he took over after his brother, my uncle, died. The role should have passed to my uncle’s son, but my uncle didn’t have any sons. So now there’s some dispute about whether Randy’s claim is legitimate. I thought having our omega back would help to resolve that.”
She was quiet for a moment. “If you and I are mated,” she said, “if I’m keeping up with what you’re saying, wouldn’t that make you the alpha?”
“In theory. But Randy is my older brother. He wouldn’t have accepted a challenge well from anybody, and least of all me.”
“You said that you hadn’t seen a good alpha in your lifetime,” she remembered.
Ozzy nodded. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her about what it had been like under the oppressive rule of his dictatorial father. Even the memory of those times was enough to make him shiver.
“I think that’s why your parents took you away,” he said at last. “I don't know, because I never knew your parents. They were gone before I was born. But I think they saw that you’d never be treated fairly under my father. An omega can have a really beautiful life if she’s with an alpha who appreciates and values her. But she can also be badly mistreated and abused—that’s common too. Your parents probably thought you wouldn't be treated well in our pack. And they were probably right.”
“But you want me to go back there,” she said.
“I want you to help me change things for the better,” he said. “Having our omega back will make all the difference. We’ll be able to put good leadership in place. We’ll be able to grow our numbers more than we have in generations, so our children’s future will be strong.”
Her face twisted as if he’d said something she didn’t like. Perhaps she was put off by the idea of bearing children? It didn’t seem like an omega ought to be upset by that prospect. But then, she hadn’t known she
was an omega until very recently. Of course she was still adjusting.
“I wasn’t asking you how you learned to fish,” she said abruptly.
“You weren’t?”
"I was asking you how you learned to shift.”
“Oh,” he said. “I don't know. I’ve always known how to do it. It’s as natural as breathing.”
“I should learn,” she said uncertainly.
“You should,” he said. “You’ll need to eventually.”
“Can you help me?”
“I've never taught anyone how to do it before,” he said.
“Well, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to begin," she said.
He nodded. “You’ve got to take your dress off.” Her black cocktail dress was in rough enough shape after the days they had spent hiking through the wilderness. He would have to see about finding new clothes for her before long, he knew, but in the meantime, he wanted to keep the one garment she had as pristine as possible.
She took it off and handed it to him. He bundled it in his arms, trying not to stare at her body. Trying not to allow himself to be distracted by how badly he wanted her.
They hadn't been together since they’d left New York. It was one more thing he was trying not to rush. But he couldn’t deny the craving he felt. It was as if his body was starving all the time, and she was the most tantalizing meal he’d ever seen.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
She did so. It was a little easier when she wasn't looking at him. It dimmed the fire of the connection they shared.
“Reach inside yourself,” he said. “Try to find the instinct that lives at the core of you. Your deepest self. It's the part of you that wants without thinking. It’s the part of you that feels hunger and thirst and arousal and exhaustion. That’s your animal self.”
She said nothing. Her posture changed ever so slightly, though, as if she were on the verge of rising up onto her toes.
“Now let that part come forward,” he said. “Let that be who you are.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to do it. She drew in a deep breath and he swore he could see her muscles flexing, stretching. Beginning to change?
No. She opened her eyes, looking despondent. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she said.
"It's all right,” he said. “I’m not surprised you couldn’t do it on your first try.” Though he was a little disappointed, he was determined not to let her see. “Come and eat. The fish is just about ready.”
Chapter Eight
NATALIE
“Why don’t you start the fire tonight?” Ozzy asked.
Natalie looked up at him. Her failure at trying to shift that afternoon was still fresh in her mind, and it felt overwhelming to think of failing twice in the same day. “I've never started a fire before,” she told him.
“We’ve got the lighter,” he pointed out. “You’ve used a lighter before, haven’t you?”
“Well, sure,” she said. “But to light scented holiday candles, not fires. It’s crazy I can’t believe I’m 40 and I never started a damn campfire before!”
“It's the same principle,” Ozzy said with a smile. “At least, I assume it is. I’ve never lit any scented holiday candles.”
“You don’t do that in the pack?” She was smiling.
“Not usually,” he said. “That’s a little too human for us.”
He handed her the lighter. “Go ahead,” he said. “Light the small stuff at the bottom first.”
Hesitantly, she reached in and set the flame to the dry grass he’d put at the bottom of his pile.
It caught quickly. The flame shot up, and she pulled her hand back.
“Add sticks,” Ozzy said. “That’ll go fast. You need to give it fuel. Small sticks first.” He placed one in the flame himself, showing her the kind that would work.
She followed his example, adding one small stick at a time to the fire, and then a few at a time. Then she went for the medium twigs. The fire grew larger and more powerful, until at last, Ozzy told her to go ahead and put the big log he’d brought back on top of the blaze.
“There you go,” he said. “You did it.”
She scooted away from the fire and into his arms. She was getting used to these evenings now, to closing the day in front of a crackling fire. She was getting used to living outdoors.
“How are your feet?” he asked.
She flexed them, examining their state. She had left her pumps behind days ago—it was impossible to walk in shoes like that for very long—and she’d been walking barefoot ever since. At first, Ozzy had offered her his own shoes, but they had quickly discovered that that was just as impractical as the pumps. They were much too big for her and fell off with every step.
He crawled down to her feet and pulled them into his lap, examining them tenderly as he did every evening, massaging the balls and the heels, where they were most sore. “It’s impressive that you’ve come so far barefoot,” he said. “We’ll find a way to get you some shoes soon. I promise.”
“No hurry,” she said. “I never thought I would be comfortable like this, with so little to wear. But the truth is, there’s something kind of appealing about it, isn’t there? About being out in the wild like this?”
“That’s your animal self,” he said. "Remember this feeling. When you’re ready to shift, that's what you’ll want to connect with.”
His touch was electrifying. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling as he kneaded the sore muscles of her feet, but soon she found herself inching closer to him, her body inexorably drawn toward his. She bent her knees, hooking her toes beneath his arms, and pulled him up to rest on top of her body.
“That’s not the only thing I want to connect with,” she said.
He gazed down at her. “Are you sure?” he murmured. “It’s been a while since New York.”
“Sleeping beside you every night, it’s all I dream about,” she said while her cheeks flushed crimson.
"I wasn't sure you wanted me to. We hurried into it so fast that first time—you didn't even understand this world. I wanted you to be sure before we tried again.”
“I’m sure,” she breathed.
She felt frustrated with the layers of clothing between them. She wanted his skin on hers. But it was so important to be careful with everything they had because there was no way of knowing when or how they would get anything else.
I thought I loved this dress when I bought it. But I never loved it the way I do now. That was something that living in the wild, with Ozzy, had awoken in her.
And it wasn’t the only thing. There was a heat pooling inside her, a hunger that she had never felt with another man, and certainly not with her ex-husband. She had enjoyed sex before, she had wanted it, but it had never before felt like such a visceral need. She would die if she couldn't have him deep inside of her.
He ran his hands up under the skirt of her dress and slid it slowly over her hips. She knew immediately that he meant to take his time, that he wasn’t going to give in and let her have what she so desperately craved. Part of her was angry—how could he deny her like that?
But another part of her, a deeper part, felt nothing but trust and love. This was Ozzy, after all. He would take care of her. Just as he had saved her from the man who had tried to kidnap her back at the hotel, he would take care of her here. He would always make sure she had whatever she needed.
He’s my mate.
For the first time, that thought didn’t leave her feeling confused at all. Instead, she shivered with pleasure, feeling that at last, she understood perfectly what had happened between them when he had imprinted on her.
We belong to each other. He’s mine, and I am his.
He lifted her dress off over her head, then sat up a little so he could take in her body in front of him. She could see the way the flames threw shifting light on her skin. A cool breeze gusted, and her nipples hardened as if they’d been caressed by a lover.
He let out a lo
w moan and cupped her breasts gently, just holding them. Giving her nothing more yet.
She arched her back, trying to move into his touch.
“Lie still,” he said quietly.
And suddenly, as if gravity itself had shifted, Natalie felt her desire mold itself into something new.
She wanted to please him. She wanted to make him happy. She would do anything he asked of her. If he said lie still, she wouldn’t move a muscle.
He ran soft fingers down the sides of her body, down her thighs, then back up the center. She wanted to shiver with pleasure, but Ozzy had told her not to move, and she held herself still even as her arousal grew to a point she could hardly endure. She was so wet now that she could feel the earth beneath her growing damp.
He parted her legs with his hands and felt her for himself, sighing happily as he moved his fingers over her. It was all she could do not to buck her hips up into his touch, but she managed to keep herself still.
He slid a finger slowly inside her, then added a second. She felt herself grow tense and let out a soft cry of pleasure. He hadn’t told her to be silent.
He kissed her on the softest part of her belly, grinned up at her, and then began to work his way lower.
It was like nothing she had ever felt in her life. Her ex-husband had never taken such time over her pleasure like this, and even before she had been married, with other men, she had always had the feeling that they were hoping she would finish quickly.
With Ozzy, it didn’t feel like that at all. She was completely in his hands, under his control. She would come when he was ready for her to come, and not a moment before or after. She didn’t have to think or worry. All she had to do was feel.
He kept his tongue and his fingers working on her, pushing her closer to her breaking point, then letting the pleasure ebb ever so slightly before starting again. She lost track of how long they had been there, lying in the fire’s glow. When her orgasm finally broke around her, she felt as if her body was being turned inside out. Her legs trembled violently, in spite of her resolve to keep still, and she let out a sobbing cry that she was sure could be heard for miles around.