by C. D. Gorri
“Sorry,” she smirked and turned to face the direction he was staring in.
No wonder he was such a cocky one, she thought to herself. He was absolutely gorgeous. Sigh.
Too cute for the likes of her. She studied the night sky wondering what he hoped to see and sure enough within a few minutes an enormous beast with wings and glittering black and gold scales landed on the top of the immense beachfront fortress.
“Holy shite!”
“A few years ago, Callius Falk landed here and found his fated mate in one of our own Packmates. He and his brothers decided to make Maccon City their home.”
“How did you know he’d be coming back now?” she turned to find him staring at her with his heated gaze, “It’s amazing.”
“His mate is pregnant with their second dragon-wolf pup-”
“He is mated to a Werewolf?”
“Yes, one of our Pack. Anyway, this is usually the time she starts having cravings. He’s good people, but just so you know, from where I’m standing, having a Dragon in Maccon City isn’t nearly as amazing as having you here,” he whispered and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
His touch was gentle, tender, and Elia felt it down to the depths of her soul. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself falling for the big, sexy Werewolf with blonde spikey hair and blue eyes so bright they were like sapphires in the moonlight.
“Um, so where we going then?” she had to say something, anything to break up the moment.
Never before had she felt so moved by so simple a statement. Then again it wasn’t every day a man called her amazing. Her emotions were a jumble. Need and desire warred with logic and reason. Her Wolf scratched against her skin, the animal wanted to be nearer to her mate since the woman was reticently crawling as far as her beast could see.
“This way,” he tugged her hand, and they walked down the street, away from the beach, “this part of town doesn’t have more than a couple of scattered houses. The woods over there are called the pine barrens, they are protected in this state. Over to the right, they become the private property of the Leeds family.”
“The Leeds family?”
“Yeah, they are another classification of Shifter unique to the Garden State,” he smirked.
“What are they then?”
“Jersey Devils.”
“What? You’re making that up!”
“Nope. Honest! We have the descendants of the first Jersey Devil from the 17th century right in our backyard. Crazy millionaire, but he’s mellowed out since his mate had their first baby.”
“I am blown away, I mean, just wow. You have an amazing variety of supernaturals living here, don’t you?”
“It is a hotspot for sure,” he nodded, and she could feel his pride as if it were her own.
She liked that. Wanted to be proud of the place she lived and called home. Maccon City was the most perfect little seaside town she had ever seen. It had everything she could want.
“This here starts the property beyond city limits. We’ve got a mixture of forest and seascape.”
“This belongs to the Pack?”
“Yep, it’s called Macconwood. It goes back to when the first Maccon, Eoghan MacContire and his wife Ailis, came to our shores. I believe he was from your neck of the woods, actually.”
“Aye, the story of the infamous Wolf Bride is well known in Ireland. Back when it was considered unfeminine and undesirable for women to be Werewolves.”
“Idiots,” he growled, “females are to be protected and cherished.”
“Are they?”
“Yes. If you were mine, sweet, I would make sure you knew it,” his voice dropped to a deep low growl and her whole body seemed to light up.
“This is just beyond my wildest imagination. The property that is. I can’t believe so many supes live together in peace,” she said and tried to distract herself from his nearness.
It was true though. All the benefits of city life, with beachfront access. New Jersey was better than she had ever expected. So far, she’d seen a wide variety of stores to shop in and restaurants to choose from, and gorgeous properties. Not to mention, the widest variety of supernaturals she’d ever seen living close together in relative peace.
“I know what you are thinking, but it works. Rafe is an excellent Alpha and his reputation for fairness and levelheadedness has earned him the respect of most of the creatures in these parts. Did you know our Pack is the largest in the world?”
“I did not know that. How big is the Macconwood territory?”
“Well, technically, he is the Alpha of most of North America.”
“No shite? How does he manage it all?”
“No,” he laughed, “Rafe has various, well, I guess you’d call them lieutenants keeping the peace and reporting to him. He works harder than anyone I know.”
“That’s why folks want him as High Alpha,” she nodded, “Rafe Maccon’s reputation precedes him. Does he want it though?”
“I am not really sure, but whatever he decides, I will be there to back him,” Conall said and she could tell he meant it.
“Doesn’t he want it? All that power?”
“I don’t know to be honest, I am not sure he does.”
Elia considered his words. It went against everything she knew about Alphas, but she knew in her heart Conall was telling the truth. He was a good Wolf Guard. One of the elites, chosen amongst the rest to work side by side with his Alpha. He used his talents and strength to protect not only the Pack, but the Alpha family as well. That amount of trust was not given lightly. It spoke very highly of Conall.
A fact that warmed her down to her Wolfish bones. He was a good man, a good Wolf, and he would be a good mate. When he was ready. She knew that instinctively.
It was the question of whether or not he was ready to make that kind of commitment that concerned her. Not to mention the question of whether or not she was ready. If she mated him she could have a life in Maccon City with all of its supernatural inhabitants and castles and beaches. It would become her permanent home. The Macconwood Pack would be her pack. The idea held merit, and not just because of the real estate.
“We can Change here. We are about a mile and a half from the Manor house, but we can run as long as we want in these woods,” he leaned over casually and began to unlace his boots.
Elia froze in place. Holy hell. She hadn’t thought this part through. Running in their fur, required changing. Americans did that in groups.
Gulp.
“What are you doing?”
“Huh,” he looked up, “we can’t Shift with our clothes on,” he said as if that much were obvious.
“Oh, but, um, in my old Pack, the women and men never Changed together.”
“Elia, I promised I wouldn’t touch you unless you asked me to, but if it makes you feel better I will turn around.”
“No,” she said rising to the way his eyes glittered at her, as if he knew she were chicken.
Why should she be? He’d already seen her naked and had obviously liked it. If anything, he was going to be begging her! She narrowed her eyes, and gripped the hem of her soft cotton shirt, courtesy of him.
She lifted it over her head and revealed her lacy black bra to his unerring gaze. Elia was in no way overconfident, but she had a nice rack. Her breasts were large, but because she was a Werewolf, they were perky too. In this bit of lace, that as it turned out he had picked out, they practically spilled out of the demicups offering a pretty healthy view of cleavage.
She smirked at his reaction, gaining confidence by the second. Conall swallowed hard and dropped his boot on the ground with a thud. This could be interesting, she thought and bit her lip.
“Your turn, boyo,” she grinned and Conall’s eyebrows raised.
“It’s like that? Okay, I can do this,” he stood up straight, and grabbed his t-shirt from his back pulling it forward over his head and this time she had to work not to swallow her tongue.
The man was covered in r
ippling muscles, still tanned from the summer. He had scattered tribal tattoos featuring Wolf paws and the moon, a flower, and a Celtic cross. Her fingers itched to trace the ink and her mouth positively watered at the sight. Elia knew males didn’t like being called beautiful, but he was.
Her eyes flashed and her belly warmed just looking her fill. Damn, her panties were growing wetter by the second with pure need as she watched him run a hand over his shoulder and pecs, down his abs, hooking his thumb into his low-riding jeans. She noted the way his nostrils flared as her desire increased.
“Like what you see?” he growled with even more of his tempting Wolf in his voice now.
“I’m not sure yet. What about you?”
Elia slowly unbuttoned her fly, pushing the loose jeans off her hips. She gave a small shake that had them falling to the grass covered earth smiling to herself at the sharp intake of breath that followed her movement.
Her matching lace panties were something called boyshorts. She’d read that on the tag, and more than liked how the wide band of fabric stretched over her hips and arse. Evidently, so did Conall.
A deep, rumbling growl vibrated in his chest as his blue eyes zeroed in on her curves. They were snug and covered her ample buttocks, but the see-through lace revealed patches of ivory skin and the closely cropped dark curls that barely hid her sex from his eyes. If the gravely sound coming from him was anything to go by, he seemed to like what he saw.
Elia calmed her breathing and eyed him, waiting for him to remove his own pants. He didn’t smile this time. No, he was all seriousness when he ripped the button open and pushed them off. Then it was her turn to be shocked. Conall wore no boxers or underwear. He kicked off the denim and stood tall and straight, eyes feasting on her panty clad body.
The sight of his nude male perfection had her eyes bugging out of her head. Thick, muscular calves gave way to even bigger thighs. Golden curls sparsely covered his limbs, with even less on his stomach and chest. His shoulders were twice as wide as she, and his arms were hulking with powerful ropes of muscle. It was obvious he took pleasure in physical activity. But his face, dear God, he was an Adonis. Undoubtedly blessed in every aspect of his physique.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered knowing full well he could hear her.
Elia was not going to deny it. He would be able to tell anyway. Werewolves didn’t bother with lies. There was too much to give a person away so they usually didn’t bother. They were great at reading body language and distinguishing scents.
“Not me, sweet, you are the beautiful one,” he murmured and fisted his hands at his sides, “you gonna take those off too? I would hate to see you rip through them when you Shift. They look so good on you.”
She blushed at the compliment. Standing still she held his gaze as she removed first her bra then her panties. Not once did his eyes drop. He held her stare, showing her both respect and devotion, and she knew then she could love him.
This game they’d played had gone as far as it could, but she wasn’t quite ready to do anything about it. Not just yet.
“Come on, let’s run,” he smiled encouragingly, and crouched down, changing from man to Wolf in just a few minutes.
“Wow. That was fast,” she said, wonder lacing her tone.
Her own Change was not as swift. It was still new to her, being able to Shift from woman to Wolf at will. In these strange woods, on this foreign soil she was shocked to find herself feeling more at home than when she’d been back in the Pack house where she’d been born. She looked at Conall’s enormous buff colored Wolf and took comfort in his nearness. It was like all the anxiety she felt went away just from acknowledging his presence.
Mate, her Wolf whined wanting her to get on with it already.
Adrenaline coursed through her body, and Elia crouched down in a similar position to his, calling on her she-Wolf. The animal was anxious to be with him. Her big black beauty of a Wolf couldn’t wait to run with her mate.
After a few long minutes, she experienced a less painful than usual shift, but still, it had quite the bite. Panting to catch her breath, it was a moment before she opened her Werewolf eyes. The dark forest looked sharper, clearer with her supernaturally enhanced vision. Her hearing increased, sense of smell, everything was simply more when she was in her fur. Including the call to be with Conall.
So this is mating fever¸ she thought as a deep aching need welled up inside of her. Elia turned at the sudden whine of the hulking colored Wolf who was now right beside her.
Mate. Her she-Wolf recognized him without needing even a second to be sure. Her lupine head butted up against his, playfully, searching for comfort and acknowledgement. She relished the way he reacted, keeping still while welcoming her into his space. He allowed her Wolf to sniff and rub her fur, covering him in her scent while he did the same.
She could hardly help herself, she realized, and big ham that he was, he growled with satisfaction and did the same to her. Licking her face in the end and staring like a besotted pup with his tongue out to the side. She barked and nipped his ear for that.
When the beasts were satisfied as they could be without actually having their mate marks on each other, Elia stepped back and gazed into the blue-eyed stare of her almost lover. Then she winked. The ability to run free was something she never had, and it was long past time she indulged.
If Werewolves could smile, Conall sure as hell did just then. With a playful bark, the gorgeous Wolf took off at a run which she easily followed. He was graceful and fast, but so was she. Like a hot knife slicing through butter, She watched in awe as Conall ran through the forest making little to no sound at all. If she wasn’t a Werewolf herself, Elia doubted she would ever hear him coming. Must make it difficult for his enemies, she thought proudly.
His animal was larger than her she-Wolf by almost half in bulk and he stood a good six inches taller than her as well. Everything about him called to her. If she was to believe the legends, fated mates were wholly designed for their significant others.
So then, Conall was made for her. Literally. She watched him as he ran with his body slightly in front of her, not to show off, but to protect. Even in his fur, perhaps more so in his fur, her fated mate would always put her safety first. He would provide for her selflessly. The very notion warmed her to her soul. Like a dream she’d had as a young girl.
Never once in her entire life had Elia had that, except from maybe her father. After he’d died, life had taken a dark turn and the Spark Claw Pack had become more nightmare than dream. She’d mourned Archie, but the boy was not her fated mate.
Would she have felt different if it was Conall who had met with Seamus’ thug’s knife. She knew instinctively she would not be able to live if anything happened to him. Cripes, she had it bad.
Conall circled around her and kicked dirt on her heels by mistake. For that feigned offense, she took after him nipping his tail in retaliation. On an on they played, him teasing and her reacting until she was exhausted.
Perhaps being mated was not the prison she’d once thought. It was far too soon to tell. Despite the fact that her Wolf was quite certain being with Conall was the only answer for Elia.
He turned his head and cocked it to the side and she realized she’d stopped. Snapping her jaws at him playfully, Elia took the lead. What would he do then? She wondered and was surprised when he chased her with his tail wagging.
She’d almost expected him to become angry at her for thinking to take charge, but he wasn’t. Not at all. In fact, he seemed overjoyed as she found her feet. More than that, he seemed perfectly content to have her take charge. That wasn’t the typical behavior of male Werewolves in her village. She found she liked it. She liked him, she admitted to herself.
Despite his macho exterior, Conall seemed willing to let her have her way. Interesting, she thought as the night air grew cool around her. Elia was panting from exertion and happier than she could remember being in a long, long while.
Together, they had
covered miles of ground even if most of that was from running in large circles. The woods smelled good, clean and fresh despite the patches of decaying vegetation. Being the end of summer a little of that was to be expected.
Elia’s tongue lolled to the side as he led her to what looked like a pond or a large swimming hole. Her paws sank slightly in the soft earth around the shore as she lapped up the cool liquid. Conall followed suit. There was nothing in that water that would harm either of them with their supernaturally enhanced constitution. After a moment, Conall backed away from her. She frowned until she realized he was switching fur for skin.
“Don’t get anxious, sweet,” he said and her ears noted the traces of Wolf still in his deep voice, “I just want to sit here with you. Will you join me?” his smile was so damn sincere she practically fell over herself trying to Change back.
The sound of crickets and other small creatures seemed far away, as she watched him watching her. His eyes stayed on hers for a long moment, almost as if he was asking permission to look. Elia bit her lip. She had no illusions about herself, but she admitted she was curious about him and his uncanny reaction to her.
Nudity might not be a big deal to most supernaturals, Shifters especially, but her village was antiquated in their traditions. She was bigger than most of the women back home. She liked food and as a Werewolf never quite said no when her inner beastie demanded more sustenance.
Besides, she was more interested in him. She’d never really looked at a nude male. Never came across one who looked quite like Conall Truman.
“So perfect,” he said, voicing her thoughts, but he was speaking of her.
“You don’t have to say that,” she said and felt her skin warm with the force of her blush.
He snapped his eyes back to hers and she was surprised to see anger flash in them. Mouth open, she stood still as he invaded her space, loving the warmth of his skin as it almost touched hers, but he stopped just a hair’s breadth away.
“Are you calling me a liar?” he asked.
“What? No, I mean, I know I am not perfect, Conall,” she explained.
“You are perfect,” he took her chin, “every sweet inch of you is a fucking work of art. Every curve designed to bring me to my knees,” his face hovered so close to hers, she could scent the sweet mint of the gum he’d chewed earlier that night on his breath.