by Zoe Chant
Then, abruptly, Mary was kneeling in a sunlit plain with no sky, her deer standing beside her. Neal’s human form was limp in her arms, ghostly transparent and cool to the touch. She looked for his wolf form, expecting to find it lying nearby in the tall grass.
You have to find him, her deer told her urgently. They need each other.
Mary tilted her head back and shouted with all of her strength, “Neal!” It echoed back to her through the strange cavernous space, mockingly. Neal! Neal!
As the last echo faded, he came.
Mary had expected him to be injured, as the human self was, but the red maned wolf pranced through the grass on long springy legs, eyes feral and mocking and full—unexpectedly—of anger.
He needs you, she said, and she heard her deer say the same in chorus with her.
He doesn’t want me, the wolf said slyly. He rejects me.
His look for Neal’s ghostly form was full of contempt.
He is hurt, Mary told him. He will die without you.
He is weak, the wolf retorted.
You will die without him, Mary’s deer said, and she paced in circles through the grass, tossing her delicate head.
I am not weak, the wolf scoffed, and he circled the deer hungrily.
You are angry, said Mary with sudden clarity. He is not the one who hurt you, but you have no one else left to blame.
The wolf paused, and the deer put her nose down to touch his in his moment of stillness, fearless and determined.
I can still run, he replied at last.
I can run faster, Mary’s deer said gently.
The wolf pulled his lips back in a snarl, but the deer did not back down, keeping her velvety nose against his.
You can heal him, Mary begged, watching Neal’s human form fade further and threaten to blow away altogether.
He can heal you, her deer added to the wolf.
The wolf flicked his big ears, staring back into the deer’s eyes without words.
Then Neal stirred, and sighed, and said, Come home.
Mary woke with a start, her fingers buried in a coarse red mane, and not Neal’s short hair. She looked down in wonder at the creature lying beside her. He had done it. Neal had shifted. He had overcome years of trauma and fear and terror, and found his way home again.
The red maned wolf still slept, but his breath was strong, and when Mary felt through his fur to his skin, his heartbeat was steady. She wept, exhausted, and buried her face in his fur.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Neal woke from dreams of dark-skied sunlight and bones that cracked back into their proper places with blood-chilling sounds. Mary was curled at his side as a deer, head resting against his neck, and it felt comfortable and right, as very little had felt comfortable and right in the last decade.
Looking down at his body, he found that it was not strange or triggering to have paws again, and his wolf was not a painful thorn in his mental side, but a trusted companion once again.
Sunrise was beginning to color the ocean before them, and the tide was out again, revealing a golden-white semicircle of pristine sand.
He was breathing easily again, he realized, and took a particularly deep experimental inhalation.
It still hurt, and his chest still felt tight, but it was markedly better. His leg had only the barest of aches.
Neal was surprised. He knew how deadly even a partially collapsed lung could be, and while he knew that shifting could heal many ills, he had not expected this level of improvement.
Mary’s breath changed and Neal put his nose to hers and gave a grateful, tender lick as she woke.
Her shift to human was seamless and smooth, and Neal wondered if he had ever shifted so gracefully. His own transformation was rockier—he could feel the injured places inside stretch and change as he returned to his human shape. As his body remade itself, it tried to make itself properly, healing the leaking places in his lungs.
“Oh, Neal.” Mary was weeping, wrapping her arms around his neck as he rose to gather her up for a close embrace. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I love you,” he told her, holding her tightly against him. He still felt weak and slightly dizzy, but the feeling of her skin against his made his strength return. “I love you,” he repeated.
She snuggled closer, and Neal could feel her smile against his neck. “I know.”
“I’m sorry I was so stubborn,” he said sheepishly.
“There you go apologizing again,” she teased, but she said it lightly.
I forgive you, his wolf said loftily, as if he’d been the recipient of the apology.
I missed you, he admitted to it, wondering what his response would be.
He got in return a lupine laugh, lolling tongue and all.
“Mmm, you are feeling better,” Mary observed, and Neal realized that he had a terrific erection, pressing between them.
“I have lost time to make up for,” he said, running a thumb along the slope her neck to her shoulder. “Here we are, lost in the romantic, tropical wilderness, and all I wanted to do was lie in the sand and let you make fire and save us. At the very least, there should have been more snuggling together for warmth.”
He followed his thumb with his mouth, kissing to her collarbone, and she hissed in pleasure.
“Will you be very disappointed if I tell you I don’t want to just snuggle right now?” she asked slyly.
“I’ll take a raincheck,” Neal suggested. He didn’t stop at her collarbone, but fell to her bountiful breasts, kissing until he had to cough.
“You’re still not fully healed,” Mary said, drawing back in concern.
“A few more shifts to get everything back into proper shape,” Neal guessed, battling his breath back. “But I’m well enough for this.” His erection had not ebbed after his coughing fit, and his hands were hungry for Mary’s soft skin.
“Maybe you should let me look you over,” Mary suggested, and when she put her hands on Neal’s shoulders, pushed him back down onto the sand and straddled him, he let her.
“You need a proper inspection,” she said with a laugh.
First, she kissed him on the mouth, firmly but gently, slowly and with breaks so that he never ran out of air, then started to work her way down his body. Every scratch got a feathery kiss, and spaces between got licks and caresses. She worked her way down his chest, pausing to tease his nipples, and Neal had to draw in a sharp breath as she teased down his abs on a sure course towards the member that was acting as a flagpole below.
“Mmm,” she said. “Scratches, bruises. Nothing needs stitches, but this needs a little… attention.” Her fingers made a loose loop around his cock, stroking him once from base to tip.
Neal groaned and couldn’t quite keep himself from thrusting up at her.
“Uh, uh!” said Mary merrily. “Keep still for Nurse Mary, or I’ll have to bring in an orderly to tie you down.”
Obediently, Neal kept himself still as Mary continued to touch his throbbing member, stroking the skin gently, and scratching tenderly at his balls.
She teased him and tortured him exquisitely, until Neal knew that he was going to lose whatever precious control he had remaining.
“You have to… I’m going to… oh…!”
His pleasure rolled over the top, but Mary had slowed her finger strokes down just enough, to just the correct rate, and he had a moment of sheer bliss without actual release.
While Neal was still reeling from that treatment, marveling at the little miracle, Mary straddled him, bringing her hot, welcoming folds around him.
She was no less gentle riding him than she’d been with her hands, keeping her rhythm slow and deliberate, even as she moaned and clutched fingers through the sand beside them.
When she came, crying out in irresistible pleasure, Neal found a second crest of sensation and lost himself, thrusting back, his own cry of pleasure twining with hers.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mary stretched and laughed, feel
ing sated and satisfied to the furthest reaches of her toes.
Her stomach rumbled, a reminder her that one part of her, at least, was not in the slightest fulfilled.
“I have a granola bar left,” she remembered, springing to find it.
The wrapper had come unsealed at some point, and Mary was dismayed to find a trail of teensy ants inside. At one point, not many days previous, she would have shrieked and thrown it away, but she was hungry, and there weren’t that many ants. Mary peeled the granola bar and spent several moments carefully flicking each tiny ant off before she brought it to Neal, who was lying with his hands behind his head, looking up at the clouds skidding through the morning sky.
“I believe they call that a shit-eating grin,” Mary said, handing him half of the bar.
Neal accepted the bar as he sat up, and Mary was relieved to see that although he winced, he moved easily, and his breaths were deep and steady.
“I cannot wait to get back to the resort and take a shower,” she said, squirming. “I have sand in very uncomfortable places.
“We could go for a swim,” Neal suggested—though immediately looked trepidatious, probably remembering Mary’s near panic-attack from just a few days ago.
It seemed like a very long time ago that Mary had been so afraid of the idea of the ocean, and she found herself looking thoughtfully out at the lapping waves.
“I like the idea,” she said, and she looked back at Neal’s upraised eyebrows. “I know! I’m as surprised as you are, but after falling down a cliff and sharing a granola bar with ants, I’m up for all kinds of new adventures.”
She did insist on putting on her underthings before wading out. “I don’t want something swimming up in there,” she insisted, at Neal’s skeptical look.
He laughed, then teased, “Except me, right?”
Mary laughed back. “Swim on in any time, handsome.”
They shared a deep kiss, and Mary only pulled away because one of the waves came higher than the others, startling her with a splash of cool water.
Hand in hand, they waded out into the rolling water, and the sand beneath them fell away until they were swimming. Mary was astonished at the clarity of the water, and the brilliant blue color of it. She dove down and found shells at the bottom, surfacing with a handful of aquatic treasure.
“Oh, look,” she said, sharing the shells with Neal.
He duly admired them, but Mary thought he was really admiring her more; his glance was filled with a tenderness and joy that didn’t seemed aimed at the shells she was sharing.
Then one of the shells sprouted legs, and she shrieked and threw them all away from her. “They have crabs in them still!” she exclaimed, and she was laughing even before they hit the water and began to sink back to the sandy bottom. Neal wrapped his arms around her in comfort, and she giggled weakly against his big shoulder as they half-floated in the water.
“I’m such a ninny,” she said apologetically as the adrenaline began to ebb.
“You’re not,” Neal chided. “Look where you are, what you’re doing! You got us firewood in the dark, and ate a granola bar crawling with ants.”
“It’s easy to be brave for you,” Mary said thoughtfully. “You needed me.”
Neal’s arms tightened around her.
“Besides, I was really hungry,” she teased. “And ants are probably good protein.”
“I am going to spend the entire afternoon at the buffet when we get back,” Neal agreed.
Mary was silent for a moment. “What are we going to do when we get back?” she asked solemnly.
“Buffet,” Neal repeated. “All of it, if Chef doesn’t stop me.”
Mary hit him gently in the arm. “I meant after that. I’m supposed to fly home tomorrow morning.”
Neal stilled against her, and the waves seemed very loud in his silence.
Mary turned in the circle of his arms so she could look into his face, squinting against the bright sunlight that dazzled off the water at them.
“I love you, Neal, and I think you are well on your way towards healing, but you’ve got a lot of unfinished business. Your military unit thinks that you’re dead, and you have a family who doesn’t know what happened to you. You want revenge that you’ll probably never get, and even your wolf can’t heal everything you’ve been through.”
She watched his face flit through a dozen expressions as he took in her words.
Acceptance was the final look, and Neal drew her close again. “You’re right, of course. I have a lot of things to work through, and I don’t know how it will all shake out. But if you’ll have me…”
“I will,” Mary said emphatically.
“... I’ll go wherever you are.”
“I have a tiny apartment in a tiny town where I have the extra glamorous job of teaching math to middle school students in the throes of puberty. Would you be happy there?”
“I’d be happy anywhere I could be with you.” Neal scooped her up and kissed her they were both dizzy.
“When do you think they’ll find us?” Mary asked when they had broken apart, smiling foolishly at each other.
That struck the smile from Neal’s face. “Could be late today, or even tomorrow,” he surmised. “Travis took the boat to the mainland overnight, so it may not be afternoon until they get out on the water, unless they call in for help earlier.”
“Could we swim back by ourselves?” Mary suggested nervously. It wasn’t as terrifying as she had expected here in the water, and she knew she was a strong swimmer, but the ocean was more alive than any pool she had ever been, and she had no idea how far it would be along the coast to the resort.
Neal considered. “It’s a fair way,” he said reluctantly. “And there are a few places we’d have to swing out pretty far to avoid rocks. We’d be better off staying where we are and waiting for them to come for us.”
Mary smiled slowly, actually pleased by the idea. The cove, now that Neal was no longer at death’s door, was a pleasant little oasis. If they could both shift, they could drink the water from the waterfall, and Mary suspected she could forage for food as a deer, as Neal could as a wolf.
Now that it was sunny and perfect, it was almost better here than at the resort.
Mary’s stomach grumbled.
Almost.
Chapter Twenty-Six
They swam back to shore with easy strokes, pausing to embrace and kiss at lazy intervals, enjoying the sparkle on the water and the musical sound of waves on the shore. As if to apologize for the earlier rain, the day was crystal clear and gorgeous, with just enough of a cool breeze to keep the heat of the sun from being oppressive.
Halfway back, Neal took Mary’s arm and pointed.
She squeaked in alarm and clung to him, but gradually relaxed as the turtle under the water swam closer to investigate them and then moved on. A jellyfish got the same reaction, and a school of fish earned only giggles as she swam backwards away from them.
Neal found himself wanting to show her everything. Her excitement and nervousness were adorable, and he loved the way she got past her immediate alarm every time and boldly went forward to new experiences and adventures. She may consider herself a coward, but she was easily the bravest person Neal had ever witnessed.
When Neal pointed out the whales on the horizon, surfacing and blowing a spray of water up into the air, Mary ooh-ed and ahhh-ed, and nearly pulled them under in her excitement at spotting one flip its tail above the surface.
He shifted when they gained the land, and he could feel his breath come even easier in wolf form, dark paws dancing the surf. Mary slipped out of her underthings and frolicked beside him in deer form. While she found beach grass to nibble on, he found the scent of some small rodent, which he tracked down to a pile of driftwood and devoured.
He returned to find her trying to coax new flame from her neglected fire, and he cheered her success by lifting her into the air and spinning her around, grateful for strength in his arms once more.
&n
bsp; They made love in the sand as the sun moved across the sky into afternoon, and Neal felt like he was discovering her all over again with his own healing body.
The scrapes across her skin had faded to almost nothing, and even the gash along her arm was nothing more than a silver scar now against the deep tan she was developing.
She moved like the ocean under his fingers, rising to his kisses and scratching his shoulders in passion as he entered her.
She was tight and willing at the same time, welcoming and yet deliciously resistant, and Neal wanted to do nothing more than capture the moment forever.
He kept his strokes slow and deliberate, teasing and tantalizing, and bringing her to the brink of pleasure again and again until she was writhing and begging and clawing at him, breathing his name in a way that made his toes clench.
Finally, she came, and Neal couldn’t stop his own pleasure at the same time, his release like a triumph.
They lay together, and Neal was deeply grateful for the way his breath went all the way to the bottom of his lungs.
His wolf, grinning in satisfaction within him, was no longer a hated reminder of his trials, and he knew that whatever happened, they were partners again.
He rolled over up on one elbow and looked down at Mary, who smiled up at him contentedly.
“You are so amazing,” he told her frankly.
She made a funny face. “I have sand in awkward places again,” she laughed.
He laughed back at her, and it was as much a delight as breathing again, to open his mouth and hear laughter.
“Do you hear that?” Mary suddenly said, freezing and clutching at his arm.
Over the now familiar roar of the waterfall and the endless lapping of the ocean on the shore, Neal heard a faint, mechanical hum.
“A boat,” they said together, and Mary fell over herself reaching for her scattered clothing, totally forgetting about the sand she had just complained about.
Neal sprang to his feet without regard for his own nudity, and ran for the beach, desperate to catch the eye of whoever might be out there.