Fated Magic: Claimed by Wolves #1

by Rose, Callie

  My feet are silent on the grass as I stride toward her, drawn as if by a magnetic pull. I’m surrounded by that intoxicating scent, and my wolf snarls inside me, urging me to move faster. So I do.

  I’m so aware of her every movement that I notice the exact second she senses my approach. Her head pops up, and she looks down the bank at me, blue eyes luminous and wide. Her fear rises on the air, adding to her natural scent, and I growl under my breath. I don’t like that she’s afraid. She has no reason to be.

  I would kill for her and die for her, but I would never fucking hurt her.

  Before she can react, I’m standing over her. I grip her by both arms and haul her to her feet until we’re chest to chest. God, this close, she smells like every delicious thing I’ve ever wanted and didn’t know I could have.

  I dip my head and brush my nose along her neck, breathing in her scent like a drug.

  I’ve found her.

  The woman I never knew I’ve always been looking for.

  My mate.

  20

  Sable

  This can’t be real.

  It’s the only thought my stunned mind can form as a torrent of emotions rage through me.

  My heart crashes against my ribs as the man’s fingers dig into my arms, holding me tight against his body. His naked body, flush to mine from thigh to chest. There’s something hot and hard pressed against my belly that sends waves of fire through me—because I know what it is, and it’s as alluring as it is terrifying.

  I don’t know how this happened. I just wanted some fresh air.

  The water felt so good on my feet, and the moonlight made the forest and everything around me glow with the light I needed so badly after my nightmares.

  But then I wasn’t alone anymore. Suddenly, this man came out of nowhere, pulling me up and hauling me against his body.

  Jesus, it’s glorious. He’s glorious.

  I’m swelling with a mixture of shock and fear at his bruising grip and the way he dragged me to my feet. He’s aggressive, much more so in his movements than Ridge, Trystan, or Archer, and I know this entire situation should terrify me beyond anything I’ve experienced so far. I’m alone, in the middle of the night, with a strange, aroused man touching my body.

  But the heavy dose of my own desire is keeping me from dipping over the edge into panic. He calls to something wild in me. This isn’t like when my uncle used to manhandle me or hurt me. This is something altogether different, and the warmth between my legs responds with a delicious ache.

  His nose brushes the sensitive skin just above my collarbone, and he breathes deeply, sliding his face up my neck and into my hair. I know innately that he’s a shifter, because no normal human man would breathe my skin like that, as if he’s learning all the secrets of my soul in just one sniff.

  He pulls away, just enough for our gazes to meet. My hands are bunched up between us, but still free. I think, if I could get my traitorous body to listen, I could break out of his grip. If I wanted to.

  But I don’t want to.

  God fucking help me, I don’t.

  For a long moment, we just stare at each other, taking each other in. He’s devastatingly handsome. Big and strong, with spiky black hair that’s windswept and messy, brown eyes flecked with gold, and a strong jaw on a sharp-angled face.

  I… I recognize him.

  “It’s you,” I whisper, my eyes flaring wide. The man who nearly hit me the night I ran away from my uncle. I recall vividly the way his car skidded sideways before my hands slapped the metal, our eyes locking in mutual shock.

  Now his eyes widen too, and his gaze sweeps over my face again as if he’s trying to put the pieces together himself. One hand releases my arm and his fingers slide up to brush against my face.

  He cocks his head, the movement so animalistic he might as well still be in wolf form.

  “You hit my car.” His voice is a deep rumble.

  “Sorry about that,” I murmur, even though if anybody should be sorry, it’s him. He could have killed me. But I’m too distracted by the tingles his fingers are sending along my nerve endings. Some part of me recognizes that he’s released me. He’s not holding me against him anymore.

  I could back away. I could run. I could scream for Ridge and the others.

  Then the man’s fingers slip into my hair. A fresh jolt of electric sensation skitters through me as he fists the strands lightly, holding them close to the roots. It’s not painful, but there’s something so commanding, so dominant in the gesture, that it makes a flush of liquid heat fill my core.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Sable.” The whisper comes out hoarse, and even I can hear the desire underlying it. I want this man. Something within me wants this man, and she’s roaring to have him. I struggle to clamp down on that crazy sensation, on the overwhelming need to crawl into his arms. “You?”

  “Dare.”

  A thrill tickles along my spine. Even though I know he’s telling me his name, it almost sounds like a command on its own.

  Dare you.

  I’ve never considered myself brave or reckless or daring. I’ve lived a great deal of my life in fear, tiptoeing around my uncle and measuring days in degrees of awfulness. Before running away from Clint, I rarely thought about what I did want, focusing instead on what I didn’t.

  But right now, as I stare up into this beautiful stranger’s eyes, all I can think about is the one thing I want most in the entire world. The thing that calls to me like the moon calls to a wolf, begging me to reach out and take it.

  Dare you.

  Before I know what’s happening, before I can register whether he moved first or I did, I’m on my tiptoes, my body pressed against his.

  And I’m kissing him.

  His grip on my hair tightens a little, angling my head as he kisses me back, and the small bite of pain sends another shock of arousal through me. His other hand wraps around me, his palm cupping my ass to tug me tighter against his erection. As I wrap my arms around his neck, he opens his mouth, his tongue licking along my lips. The motion sends heat spiraling through me, and I move against him, the hard length of him sliding between us.

  Our kiss deepens, tongues dancing. My nightgown bunches beneath his hand, and his fingers dip deeper, brushing the outer boundaries of territory that no man has ever touched. I don’t even know him, but that doesn’t make a single difference to me in this moment as I open my legs wider, practically begging for him to keep searching, to go farther.

  The kiss deepens until I’m drowning in him, in his taste, in the wild scent of him. His hand moves from my hair to my chest, and he palms my breast, his thumb brushing over the peak of my nipple in a slow movement that sets my body on fire. I arch into his hand, my fingers tangling in his hair.

  I want more.

  So much more.

  I feel like I’m outside myself as I lift a leg and wrap it around his hips. Nothing separates us now but the thin cotton of my underwear, and it’s still too damn much. I rub against him, reveling in his gasp against my lips. He grabs my thigh, hauling my leg higher, opening me wider. My body has a mind of its own, and the feeling of his hard length rubbing against my core outside my panties turns me even more mindless with need.

  “Jesus. You taste like fucking sunshine,” he growls, dragging his mouth from mine before moving his lips downward to press against the curve of my jaw.

  A shiver runs down my spine, and I hold on to him for dear life as he devours the skin of my throat, scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh. I didn’t know it could feel like this, to have a man’s lips on that part of my body. I’m growing a little more familiar with the way a kiss can spread heat all the way through my limbs, warming me up from the inside out.

  But this?

  I can hardly catch my breath as he nips and sucks at my skin, sending bursts of sensation skittering through me. When he draws my earlobe into his mouth and bites down on it, I let out a soft cry, digging my fingernails into his shou
lders as I grind against him.

  How is this possible? How can one body contain all the feelings tearing through me right now?

  “Dare!”

  I gasp the word, whimpering this stranger’s name as if I’ve known him my whole life. As if I’ve called out his name like this hundreds of times before.

  He pulls back from me a little, wrapping one arm around my lower back while the other catches my chin, tilting my face up toward his. My fingers have been in his hair, making the dark spiky locks even wilder than they were before, and his eyes look almost black in the shadowy light.

  “Say it again,” he murmurs. “Say my name.”

  He’s not even kissing me anymore, but the low rumble of his voice sends a tremor of pleasure through me. My breath catches, and I bite my bottom lip as my chest rises and falls fast.

  “Dare.”

  “Sable.”

  Wolves don’t purr. I know they don’t. But that’s the only way to describe the way he says my name.

  My core clenches, goose bumps breaking out on my skin. His lower half is still pressed right up against me, his arm around my back keeping our bodies pinned together. My panties are slick, the fabric absorbing the wetness that’s seeping from me, and I wonder dazedly if he can tell. Can he feel it? Can he feel it against his naked skin?

  As if he can read my thoughts, Dare’s nostrils flare. He drags in a deep breath, then drops his head again, his fingers gripping my jaw tighter as he brings his lips to mine once more.

  Before the kiss can go any deeper, three distinct growls erupt from the silence of the night around us.

  21

  Sable

  I break away from Dare’s lips, shock flooding me.

  What… what just happened?

  Ridge, Trystan, and Archer in their wolf forms race over the ground from the cabin. I can feel their energies from here—their protective, animal instincts are turned on full blast, and they’re ready to rip Dare limb from limb.

  I know what it probably looks like. Me, alone by the stream in just my short nightgown, and a naked wolf shifter with his hands on my body and his lips on mine, while the other three men have done their damnedest to get to know me, to ease me into a relationship without the benefit of persuading me with touch.

  None of them have given in to their wolves. They’ve respected my boundaries and refused to let their beasts just take me like they own me.

  Like Dare did.

  Like I let him.

  My three companions race toward us, snapping and growling in a show of aggression that sets my heart pumping and makes me want to flee into the woods. Panic rears up swiftly inside me, dousing my desire like a bucket of cold water on a flame.

  Dare releases me, his own growl rumbling up from deep within his chest. He puts himself between me and the other men as if trying to protect me, and then the now-familiar mirage of magic shimmers over his body as he shifts to wolf form. Dare is massive, with midnight black fur that almost seems to camouflage into the night.

  The four wolves come together in a violent clash of teeth and claws, their snarls breaking the peace of the night.

  It’s three against one. For the first time since this all began, Ridge, Trystan, and Archer are completely united against something they see as a common enemy—Dare. The horrifying realization that he doesn’t have a chance against their ferocity sends my heart into palpitations.

  Ridge’s pale brown wolf gets hold of Dare’s neck, and though he’s smaller than the latter wolf, Ridge takes Dare down to the dirt. The black wolf hits the ground hard on his side, Ridge’s teeth latched onto his neck, but manages to buck out of his grasp and roll away—back on his feet so fast, it’s almost like it never happened.

  Trystan and Archer leap in, jaws snapping at Dare’s legs. Ridge bares his teeth before leaping onto Dare’s back again, and a pained yelp tears through the night.

  Something snaps inside me.

  This fight isn’t fair.

  Whatever force is connecting me to Ridge, Trystan, and Archer, it’s identical to whatever connected me to Dare. He acted on that connection, and I allowed him to.

  I race forward, barely cognizant of the rough ground beneath my bare feet. I don’t even think twice before I throw myself bodily between the wolves, putting Dare at my back. Trystan, who just lunged at the black wolf, has to redirect at the last minute so he doesn't hit me, and Archer immediately sits down on his haunches, his head cocked in surprise.

  I hold my hands up between them all, my face hard and fear pumping through my veins.

  Jumping into the middle of a wolf fight wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done—in fact, it has to make the list of top five stupidest things I’ve ever done—but at least no one accidentally ripped me to shreds before they realized what was happening.

  Archer is the first to shift back to human form, crouching on the ground naked just as he was as a wolf. His transformation sets off a domino effect, with Ridge turning back next, then Dare, and finally Trystan.

  None of them look happy about the situation. They all look furious—except maybe Archer, whose enigmatic expression remains neutral.

  I keep my gaze firmly above everyone’s shoulder-level as I lower my hands. My heart feels like it’s on the verge of exploding inside me, and I suck in a deep breath, then another, trying to calm the damn thing so I can speak with more authority than I feel.

  “I won’t let you fight,” I say. My voice sounds thin and weak at first, but it gains strength as I find my footing. “I don’t know what this thing is between us. Or between me and Dare either,” I add, motioning to the quiet, brooding man behind me. “But I refuse to let you hurt each other because of it.”

  22

  Archer

  Holy fuck. She’s magnificent. Single-handedly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, standing between us with her hair wild and a hard glint in her eyes.

  I can scent her fear. There’s a tension in her body that speaks of a deep urge to run, the way a deer would bolt at the crack of a twig in the night. But she doesn’t. She stands there, chin in the air, stance wide and unmoving, despite the four powerful, intimidating shifters staring her down.

  Sable, my beautiful mate, refuses to bend, and this glimpse of the warrior inside her—the wolf inside her—sends a wave of warmth and respect through me.

  Back in the council’s meeting house, I felt an instant and undeniable connection to her because of the mate bond. Not exactly a bond a shifter can ignore, or have any control over at all, really. But every day we’ve spent together since, I’ve learned more about her, gotten to know what makes her tick. It’s only made me care for her more.

  She’s an amazing woman. Stronger than she even knows. Soft but unbreakable, vulnerable but with a spine of steel. Now it’s more evident than ever what a firecracker she really is. I don’t know her whole back story, though I’ve pieced some clues together and built my own theory. But if her previous life is as bad as I suspect, I know how much strength it takes for her to stand up in the face of violence.

  And she just threw herself in the middle of serious violence.

  Her voice wobbles as she goes on. “Just stop this. Now. You’re not monsters.”

  It’s the crack on the last word that makes my protective hackles raise. She’s losing that initial steam, and her past trauma is overtaking her resolve and anger. From my own experience, I know she’s about to crumble.

  So I go to her.

  I hear a low growl from Trystan’s direction, like that fucker has any business trying to calm a broken woman. I don’t give a rat’s ass if he’s pissed I’m taking control. I don’t care if any of them are pissed about it.

  Sable barely moves as I gather her into my arms. She’s stiff, her entire body shivering, not from the cool air but from her emotions. It takes her a few seconds to relax into my embrace and sink against me. Her arms finally wrap around my waist, and she presses her face into my chest just before tears crest over her cheeks.

&
nbsp; I cup the back of her head, letting my fingers play over the satin strands of her hair. “Shh. It’s okay. Breathe through it. Like we did before, you remember?”

  She immediately follows my order, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths against my torso. The press of her breasts against me and the rest of her soft form flush against mine, separated only by the thin cloth of her nightgown, makes my body react immediately.

  I can still smell her arousal, still sense hints of the way her body responded to Dare. I fight not to get hard, but it’s almost impossible with her this close. Between the mix of her lingering scent and her curves against me, it’s not an easy battle.

  I don’t want to scare her. I want to be there for her.

  So I focus my gaze on Trystan’s dumb ass as a means to deflate.

  Nobody moves for several long moments. Sable is crying silently, her tears wet on my skin. The good news is she’s not lost in her panic like she was the first night we arrived. So I keep petting her hair and tell her, “You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” over and over as the moon rides higher in the sky.

  Eventually, even the tension from our companions dies away. The alpha anger fades from the air, and they stand down as concern for Sable replaces the fury. Gotta hand it to them—they adapt fast and put her first.

  As mates should.

  Is it really possible that we’re all connected to her by a mate bond? It’s a surreal concept. We’re not the only shifter packs in the world, so I know there are more wolves out there who might have seen multiple mates that we wouldn’t know of.

  But in our circles, one wolf mates with one wolf. Period.

  These men—even Dare, whose dark presence stands just to my left, bleeding concern for Sable—are alphas in their own right. They’re born and bred to take whatever the hell they want, whenever they want it. And yet, they put her needs first.