by Meg Harris
"Hang on, Faelan. Wait just a second, okay?"
He tried to pull the ring off her finger, and couldn't. It was as if it were growing into her skin somehow. He thought about trying to break it, but he wasn't sure he could. It might be delicate metal, but it was still metal. Anyway, it looked almost as if it were melding into her body, and if he broke it, he might very well hurt her.
He stared at it, horrified. What the hell is going on?
"Faelan," he said. "The ring..."
"Forget the ring." She whimpered with frustration, lifting her legs and wrapping them right around his thighs. "I need you. Please."
"No, Faelan. It's… it’s doing something to you, okay? This is not normal. We need to stop and figure this out, before it gets any worse. I'm not going to..."
She reached up and put her hands against his shoulders, grabbing a handful of sweater in either fist, and yanked hard, wrenching him to the side. To his shock, he found himself on his back on the bed. She’d thrown him over as easily if she were a two-hundred pound guy with muscles like a gorilla, rather than a very petite woman.
He lay there, breathing hard, and she scrambled on top of him, her thighs on either side of his. Her body pressed eagerly against his, and her hands were all over him once again.
He bit back a moan and tried to find some self-control, but where she was concerned he'd never had much. And she wouldn't stop touching him, wouldn't stop moving her hips against him, and it felt so good...
He drew on every iota of self-control he had, and pushed her back over onto the bed, pinning her with his big body. He spoke as sternly as he could.
"Cut it out, Faelan. This is a serious problem."
She shoved him again, harder this time, and suddenly he was falling through the air, with her on top of him. He had just enough time to realize she'd pushed him over again, in the other direction this time. And then they landed on the floor with a teeth-jarring thud, their bodies intertwined.
“Ow,” he moaned, rubbing at his head, which had struck the wooden floorplanks pretty hard.
But then her hips moved against his, and he couldn't stop the groan that rose out of his throat. And it wasn't a groan of pain.
"Faelan."
He rolled her over and tried to pin her, trying to regain some measure of control, but she shoved him over again. Even through the hormones addling his brain, he knew that something was not right here, not right at all.
He was a big, strong guy, and she barely came up to his shoulder. She shouldn't be strong enough to push him around this way, unless he let her. And yet she was doing it easily. If he had to speculate, he'd guess she was just about as strong as he was. Maybe even stronger.
But that was impossible.
The ring. It had to be. Somehow, the ring was affecting her, changing her, making her stronger.
But that’s crazy, he thought, turning his head and glaring down at the ring like it was a mortal enemy. How could it be the ring? It was just a little piece of jewelry, a pretty bit of silver and topaz. It couldn’t possibly affect her that way. It couldn’t possibly affect her any way.
Then again, he thought, if it were just an ordinary piece of jewelry, it wouldn’t be turning her skin silver.
Something weird was definitely going on here.
He was still trying to pin her and hold her still, and not succeeding too well. Not only was she inhumanly and insanely strong, but the movement of her hips against his was a pretty major distraction.
He realized she was yanking his sweater off, so frantically that he heard the woolen fibers rip, and then tugging his t-shirt off over his head. Despite his awareness that he had to figure out what the hell was going on with that ring, he couldn't quite seem to stop her.
The shirts off, she paused and stared hungrily at his bare chest.
"My God," she said softly. "You're so gorgeous, Conner."
A warmth that wasn't sexual bloomed inside him, and he ducked his head to hide the flush on his cheeks. Even after six months of a very intense relationship, her compliments tended to disarm him. The fact that this gorgeous, intelligent, totally awesome woman loved him somehow took him by surprise, every time.
"Thanks," he muttered.
Her hands began to roam all over his chest, and he closed his eyes and let himself succumb. Somewhere deep inside he knew he shouldn't, but she felt so good. Her hands were gentle and assertive at the same time, and her mouth was everywhere, kissing him, licking him..
He felt her mouth open against his shoulder.
And then she bit into him, really hard.
The sensual spell she'd cast over him was abruptly broken. He yelled with shock and pain, and his eyes snapped open.
That had hurt, damn it.
She pulled her head away from his shoulder, and he looked at her in shocked bewilderment. She’d nipped him before in sexual play, but she’d never done anything like that before. Her lips were drawn back in a snarl, her mouth red with his blood. There was something wild and feral in her eyes, and her teeth...
Fangs, he thought, staring at her in shocked bewilderment. She has fangs.
A shudder ran through him, and his thoughts ran on wildly and irrationally, like a runaway freight train. A vampire. She’s somehow turned into a vampire… some sort of weird infection… or something…
He couldn’t manage to think clearly about it, because inside him something was growing that shouldn't be there, something wild and animalistic and gloriously primitive. Whatever the contagion might be, it seemed to spread from his shoulder wound throughout his whole body, swirling through his blood, pounding through him in a steady, relentless beat.
When she’d bitten him, she’d done something to him. She’d changed him somehow.
He wondered if she'd made him a vampire, or... something else.
"What did you do to me?" he demanded.
"I have no idea." She licked the blood off her lips, and he stared at her, bizarrely aroused by the sight of her tongue tasting his blood. "I just... I couldn't help it, Conner. I had to bite you."
To his shock, he felt his wound knitting itself closed, but the skin around it was beginning to turn dark, and whatever was inside him didn't fade. In fact, it only grew stronger, until it felt like he was burning with it. As the flame spread through him, his skin began to itch and ripple in a very strange way. He squirmed, fighting the urge to claw at his own skin, because he knew it wouldn't help. Somehow he knew that the only thing that would help soothe the strange sensation was her touch.
He needed her hands on him, her body against his, her mouth kissing him and licking him and biting him...
He pushed the images away, struggling to resist the primitive urges snarling inside him. He needed to apply logic to this situation, needed to figure out what was wrong with Faelan and how to fix it. He had to ignore the desperate itching of his skin and the heat that burned deep in his body. He couldn't give in to the demands pouring through his bloodstream, couldn't give into the wild need for sex that pounded through him.
He had to keep control.
But even as he thought that, he was lowering his head to kiss her.
Chapter 4
Conner's mouth took hers in a long, intense kiss. She could still taste the coppery flavor of his blood, but beneath that she could taste his mouth, a more subtle flavor, an intoxicating mixture of spices and honey and sheer maleness that made her skin ripple worse than ever.
Her fingers itched with the need to touch him, and she gave in to the need, running her fingers over his back. He moaned into her mouth, then lifted his head and looked down at her with passion-darkened eyes.
"Faelan."
She liked the hungry tone in his voice. She smiled up at him, then put her hands on his chest and pushed him over again. And then they were rolling across the bedroom floor, over the soft Oriental carpet and the wide pine planks of the floor, laughing breathlessly as each tried to get on top.
She heard the deep sound of his laughter, saw the brig
ht flash of his smile, and despite the desire that burned deep inside her, she couldn't stop laughing either. Despite her intense sexual needs, she was having fun.
They rolled into his dresser with a bump, Conner on top. There was no room to roll any further, so she started stroking her hands over him again, long, slow caresses running from the nape of his neck to the small of his back.
Soft, deep sounds of need rumbled from his chest, and his hips moved urgently against hers.
And then they were kissing frantically, mouths locked together in a deep, sizzling kiss. The moment of shared laughter faded, and they ripped eagerly at each other's clothes.
In seconds they were both entirely naked, their bodies pressed together, and she felt his cock throbbing hotly against her inner thigh. He levered himself up on his hands just a bit, and she saw the same dark, primitive need in his eyes she felt burning in her own eyes.
"Roll over," he whispered, his voice low and harsh.
She wanted him, right now, and she tried to catch his ass so she could pull him inside her body, but he resisted. "Roll over," he demanded, more insistently.
She wasn't used to Conner demanding things, but she responded to the authority in his voice almost automatically, rolling over. The old carpet didn't provide much of a cushion, but she was so turned on she didn't really care. Her skin pulsed like one giant nerve ending, and her blood felt like liquid flame as it surged through her body.
"Get up on your hands and knees," he directed, his voice soft but commanding.
They'd never had sex that way, but she didn't object to the idea. Right now, she was so hungry for sex that she just wanted him in her, some way. Any way.
She got up on her hands and knees, and he rose to his knees behind her.
And then he was sinking deeply into her, and he was so hot and hard she couldn't restrain a long yowl of pleasure.
*****
She felt so damn good.
Conner slid into Faelan, all the way to the hilt, and gasped for breath. He'd made love to her many times before, but he'd never felt this desperate, almost frantic need to be part of her. He'd never made love to her this way, either, but somehow vivid images of fucking her from behind filled his head, and he couldn't resist the idea.
Her arm was silver all the way to the shoulder now, and somewhere deep in his mind he knew he ought to be worrying about her, maybe getting her to the emergency room... but he just couldn't stop. The rational part of his brain had been blotted out almost entirely by the physical need that flooded him. Desire ran over his skin in waves, and a low animal sound of need rolled from him.
He couldn't help himself. He withdrew, almost all the way, and then thrust back in. Both of them uttered harsh, desperate noises. She was so hot, and his body ached for her so badly. His skin needed contact with her, the sweaty, damp skin of her thighs pressing against his, his hands clutching her hips, his cock deep inside her...
His hips started to move in a steady, fast rhythm as instinct took him over. Because he was so much bigger than she was, he'd always taken care to be a gentle, careful lover. But through some bizarre change she was as strong as he was. Maybe stronger. Which meant he couldn't possibly hurt her.
He could fuck her as hard as he'd always wanted to, somewhere deep inside.
He made love to her with a rough violence that made her throw her head back and gasp wildly, helpless sounds of pure pleasure falling from her lips. He could feel her body squeezing his hard, and he knew she was close to the verge. And so was he.
Part of him wanted this to last forever, or at least for the rest of the night, but he was so wild with need that he couldn't think of slowing down. He slammed into her relentlessly, harder and harder.
Their voices rose in frantic unison, and then her hot, wet body was convulsing around his, and he felt himself coming in wild spurts. He flung back his head, a terrible animal sound rising from his throat, a feral sound he couldn't have begun to describe.
The ecstasy rushed through him, making his skin ripple. The itch and the need that had irritated his skin were gone, replaced with utter rapture. He was a single mass of ecstasy, from his head to his toes. Faelan seemed to like it just as much as he did, judging from the way she was screaming.
At last the final spasm of pleasure faded, and he leaned forward, gasping as he rested his face against her shoulder. He could feel his body softening, but he didn't pull out of her.
He wanted to be part of her forever.
*****
Something was happening to her.
She could feel the change rushing through her body like an electrical current. She was different now. The itchy, frantic need that had plagued her earlier was gone, and her body surged with an animal energy.
She wasn't the same as she'd been earlier in the evening. Somehow making love had completed the change that had begun earlier today. Whatever was happening to her was now complete. She knew that as clearly as she’d ever known anything.
Conner's satiated body began to slip out of hers. He put his arms around her waist, as if he intended to cuddle, but she moved away and stood up. She could feel his come dripping down her thighs, a sensation that never failed to make her feel like she was truly his.
And now she was more his than ever before.
He looked up at her, his blue eyes heavy-lidded and content, but suddenly his eyes widened. "Your arm," he said. "It's... better. Whatever was wrong with you has gone away."
She lifted her arm and looked at it. It was flesh-colored again, but the ring was still firmly adhered to her finger. She knew with a calm certainty that it wasn't going anywhere. Not till the day she died.
"No," she said. "I just have control over it now."
"Control over what?" He rose to his feet, stark naked, and loomed over her, looking very large and very irritated. "Faelan, what the hell is going on?"
"The ring," she said, holding out her arm. "It changed me."
"Changed you?" He stared at her, looking worried and frustrated and angry-- the typical male reaction when faced with the inexplicable. Then he looked down at the ring, his eyes narrowed as if it were an enemy. "Changed you how?"
She smiled.
"Like this," she said, and transformed.
Chapter 5
Conner gaped as Faelan's skin suddenly turned silver again. Her smooth, satiny skin roughened, and glimmering gray fur sprouted all over her body. She seemed to shrink and blur, and suddenly she was standing on four legs, looking up at him. Her teeth were still bared, but in a snarl rather than a grin.
She was a wolf. A wolf with a dense, silvery coat.
If he hadn't seen her transform, he wouldn't have believed it. Or maybe he would have, because her eyes hadn't changed. He studied the wolf, who looked back with golden eyes, precisely the same shade as Faelan's.
"Faelan?" he whispered, tentatively.
The wolf inclined her head slightly.
"But you-- but you--" He didn't see the ring anywhere, and guessed it had been transformed right along with her.
The Lupine Rapids legend, he thought in shock. It wasn’t just a legend. The ring really was a part of it.
The ring that was now firmly adhered to Faelan's finger.
Somehow, those early settlers had been able to transform, probably due to this ring, and maybe others. He wondered if there were other rings like this out there. He wondered if there were other people out there, transforming into wolves at will, or perhaps trapped in animal form forever…
"Faelan," he whispered, suddenly very worried. "Can you shift back?"
She suddenly seemed to blur and grow right in front of him, and then she stood upright. She was the beautiful blonde he'd always known, her fangs gone, the ring gleaming on her wrist.
"Of course I can shift back," she said, sounding a little impatient. "That's what the ring is for."
"But the early settlers… they could...?"
She tilted her head, looking as if she were listening to something. He had the sudde
n incredible notion that she was getting some sort of information feed from the ring, as if it were somehow sharing its long history with her.
“Yes,” she said at last. “There was a jewelry maker among them. He made the rings for each marriage. How he worked the magic into them, I don’t know. But he did. Anyone wearing the rings could change shape, and so could anyone that they bonded with.”
He stared at her. He was pretty sure his mouth was still hanging open, but he couldn't seem to close it. "Bond? Are you saying… you and I just... what do you mean, exactly?"
"When we mated, and when I bit you," she said. "You and I... we're the same now."
He refused to admit what that might mean, refused to acknowledge the feral longings burning inside him. Instead he focused on her. He wondered if she'd keep her incredible strength, or if it had simply been a side effect of her transformation, meant only to protect her from an out-of-control male while they mated. But he decided not to explore that issue right now, and focused on something a little more immediate.
"Okay. But why wolves?"
She looked back at him steadily.
"Because wolves mate for life," she said.
He sighed. Something wild growled inside him, struggling to get out, but he pushed it back. He had to be the responsible one here. He had to take care of her.
"Faelan," he suggested, "maybe we can figure out how to cure this somehow, if we go to a doctor or a hospital.”
“Sure,” she said with a faint smile. “Let’s just go to the ER and announce that I can change into a wolf now. I’m sure that will go over really, really well.”
“But you can’t…” He held out an imploring hand to her. “Maybe we can fix it somehow."
"Fix it?" She blinked, looking slightly puzzled. "There's nothing to fix, Conner. This is who I am now. The ring’s part of me, and so is the were ability." She smiled slightly. "Just like it's part of you."
"Me?" He frowned, ignoring the growling beast inside him. "No, Faelan, I can't..."
"Yes, you can." She reached out her ringed hand and wrapped her fingers around his in a reassuring gesture. "Look, Conner... this is how the early settlers here married. It might seem strange to us, but this is a part of history. And when you gave me the ring… it became part of the present. It’s who I am now, and nothing can change that."