by K Matthew
As much as I didn't want to take my eyes off of the moon, I knew that if Rex wanted me to turn to him, then it was for a good reason. Obediently, I faced him. Our bodies were so close together that I could almost feel the heat coming from him. My eyes looked up into Rex's, full of fear. His were as cool as ever.
“Just breathe slowly and focus on my eyes. You'll be alright,” he told me, and I believed him.
Finally, the tremors began. Pain ripped through me, though it didn't seem as intense as last time. Something about staring into Rex's eyes soothed it. My mind was occupied with his reaction. Never did he waver or show signs of discomfort.
I watched in fascination as Rex's eyes changed. The green of them exploded in a sunburst, spreading, taking over. The lashes around them thickened, the skin turning black as his face began to morph from man to animal. He was terrifying yet beautiful at the same time. My last thought before losing consciousness was that I wished I could have shifted with as much grace as Rex had.
The night was no less confusing than the first time I shifted. There were bouts of clarity littered with panic. Every time I awoke, I was somewhere different: a field, near a river, on the side of a cliff. All around me were bodies, people I knew from the reservation. They all looked as disoriented and afraid as I was. And then the pain would come again, the moon peaking out from the clouds, sending us all into a frenzy of screams and howls as the wolf took back over.
Every time the forest greeted my eyes, I feared that the pain would follow. This was the part of the shift that truly made me want to die, and I knew that I wasn't alone in that feeling. The agonizing cries of my fellow werewolves said it all.
Finally, I opened my eyes to wisps of sunlight through the trees. While the anxiety of being torn back into werewolf form was still there, I knew it was over. The moon could not hang onto me while the sun was around.
We were lying in the forest, somewhere I hadn't been before. All around me, the naked bodies of those I had known from the reservation were waking. Despite myself, I looked at each of them, trying to pick out who was who. Half of them were still unconscious. Many were coming to at the same time that I was.
Then my eyes landed on Chris, his mop of sandy blonde hair moving as his eyes lifted to meet mine. While I wanted to turn away, I couldn't. His gaze was blank. Deadpan. Chris wasn't so much staring at me as something on me, and a shift of my body told me that someone else was near.
I turned to find Rex nuzzled against me, his arm touching mine. By the time I looked back to Chris, he was already standing up, and my heart sank with longing desire for him. How bad this must look to him? But did it really matter? We hadn't seen each other in almost a month.
Oddly, no words were said as the other werewolves began to wake. Rex was lifting his head, and as our eyes met, he smiled at me, filling my heart with a strange warmness, putting it back where it belonged. This was my life. He was my life. And I knew, beyond a doubt, that my place was by his side.
Slowly, everyone stood and got their bearings about them. All the while, no one spoke. Maybe it was the awkwardness of the situation. Perhaps it was a silent understanding that I hadn't learned yet. We simply looked at each other, acknowledging one another, and then Rex and I parted from the rest of the group, him leading the way back into the forest.
I gave Chris one last longing glance over my shoulder, and for the first time, I saw emotion in his eyes. He was upset that I was leaving, but he was too much of a coward to say anything about it.
My eyes caught a glimpse of Emmett, staring at my backside as we walked away. There was something different about the way he looked at me, and after a few more steps, I realized that he wasn't looking at me at all. He was looking at Rex. All the werewolves were looking at Rex, and as I turned to see what they were staring at, a strange understanding came to me, a secret whisper inside of my head. Rex was the true alpha. They were seeing him off out of respect.
The thought filled me with awe as we proceeded into the forest and out of sight of the other werewolves. For a moment, I thought to speak to him about it, but I knew that he was every bit as exhausted as I was and probably not interested in making conversation. Rex rarely felt like talking when he was tired.
We continued to walk through the forest in silence. There was no doubt in my mind that Rex knew where he was going. I, on the other hand, was completely lost.
Now that I was a human again, I had all the discomforts of being one. My bare feet were sore against the sharp stones and sticks on the ground, and I winced with every step, trying to keep up. It reminded me of running from the base of the reservation all over again, except for instead of blisters on the bottoms of my feet, I had to worry about cuts. How Rex could stand it, I didn't know.
“Slow down,” I said finally, pausing to pick a bur out of my foot. As I lifted my leg to knock the bur out, I Iost my balance, tumbling over onto my side.
“Be careful,” he chastised me, walking back to grab me by the arm and pull me to my feet.
My legs were weak, and as he stood me up, our bodies met, my breasts pushing firm against the hard muscle of Rex's chest. If my cheeks could have gotten any brighter, they would have burst into flames. Everything in me wanted to pull away from him—to shove him off of me, but I couldn't.
Hesitantly, I looked up into Rex's eyes. They were different—gentle. In that moment, he was just a man, and I was just a woman, and we were alone together, naked in the woods.
I parted my lips to speak, but he silenced them with a kiss, hungry and primal and rough. Yet despite Rex's aggression, I wasn't afraid. Everything in me wanted this—needed this even.
He backed me up against a tree, and my hands rose to wrap around his neck, holding him while he lifted me. The bark of the tree hurt my back, but the feel of Rex pushing inside of me melted that away. We both looked a mess, with twigs and leaves in our hair and dirt covering our bodies, yet I had never felt so sexy in all of my life.
Rex made little noise as he pressed into me, the only sign of his pleasure his heavy breathing. I muffled my blissful cries, fearful that my voice would carry across the forest to the others. They were far away now, I knew, but I was still paranoid.
After a while, Rex laid me down on the grass, and I caressed his face, worshiping his lips with mine, my fingernails trailing lightly over his firm muscles. When I could tell he was getting tired, I rolled on top of him, grabbing his hands and placing them on my breasts. Rex grinned like a fool, looking younger than I had ever seen him before, and I almost couldn't contain a giggle. He let me stay on top until he couldn't contain himself any longer, spilling his seed inside of me.
We lay in the grass together, breathless, happy. My body had secretly wanted this for so long. I think his had too. All I knew was that I didn't regret it, and I hoped there was much more in the future.
“We should get going,” Rex whispered, running his fingers through my hair a final time before pushing himself into a sitting position.
“Are we far away?” I asked, thinking of how I didn't want to be back on my feet.
“Not too far. Maybe two hours.”
I groaned, not caring whether Rex heard me or not.
“I can carry you,” he offered hesitantly, as if he felt awkward for even suggesting it.
“That's not necessary.” I smiled warmly.
We walked hand in hand back to the cabin, unashamed of our nakedness. I had never expected to find love on the reservation. I had never expected a lot of things to happen. But they had, and my life had been changed completely, never to be the same again. Despite all the hardships though, I wasn't unhappy.
Most women searched their entire lives for a man like Rex. One who would protect them when he said he would, one who would never stray or cheat, one who knew how to survive in tough situations. Rex might be a bit crude around the edges, and certainly no prince charming, but what good is a prince charming when you're a werewolf. On the Blackfoot Werewolf Reservation, an alpha beat a prince charming any day of the week.
To further support this author, please post a review after you finish reading this book.
To find out when K. Matthew has new books available and to be informed of free promotions being run by this author, please sign up for the newsletter.
K. Matthew's Newsletter
Other books in this series
A Month with Werewolves
A Week with Werewolves
A Day with Werewolves
A Night with Werewolves
A Life with Werewolves
A Love with Werewolves