She greets him with a softly wagging tail, playfully jumping on his back, only to scamper away and do it again. His tail swishes back and forth, and my wolf is mesmerized by it as she tries pouncing on it. Back and forth, his tail plays with my wolf. She’s stalking the tail as if it’s prey. Jumping high in the air before trying to pin it down, she tries to take a bite out of it, but she just isn’t fast enough to catch it.
She’s makes loud, rasping growls from the back of her throat when that tail escapes her mouth. She went for his ear with her next leap, biting down with a tight, clenching jaw. He whimpers, backing away slightly. Lightning fast, he strikes her ear hard. She whimpers until he lets go. His growl was intimidating to her as she slightly crouches in on herself.
He licks her jaw, pressing his cheek against hers.
His nose to the ground, he starts to rummage around, scattering the debris of the forest floor until he finds what he’s looking for. Clamped in his jaw tightly, but not dead, he holds a squirming mouse. He clamps down slightly harder, injuring it, but not killing it.
Dropping it on the ground, the little mouse drags its body, willing itself to get away. My wolf sniffs it, picking it up in her mouth, dropping it back down on the ground. He’s watching us, not moving, just looking on with a tilt of his head.
The struggling mouse tickles my wolf’s tongue. When she crunches down and that first trickle of blood saturates her taste buds, it’s magical tasting meat for the first time. Crunching bones in her jaws, she swallows it down, looking at him, the provider of her food.
My Wild starts to nuzzle him, lick him, brush her fur against him. She is in awe of this wolf who can provide food for her.
Setting off on the trail of meat, he hunts up several more mice, letting my wolf make the kill. She’s getting gluttonous, drunk on the blood of living creatures. His wolf takes off fast and hard on a trail of something, nose to the ground. His fur is iridescent black, blending into the shadows of the forest where the light doesn’t penetrate. He disappears in the undergrowth for moments at a time.
My Wild waits, sitting on her haunches for him to come out with another mouse. Instead, he comes out with a rabbit, placing the dead animal at his feet. He takes a stance over it, watching my wolf as if waiting for something to happen.
She’s in a greedy mood, wanting that rabbit between his legs for herself. As she approaches him, he bristles his fur, a malignant growl tumbling out of his throat. She gives him her own menacing growl from deep in her throat. Nose wrinkling, she shows her teeth to him, and he does the same back to her.
One paw takes another step toward his kill, her shoulders crouching down, tail straight. She postures her intent to take what he wants to keep. Another snarl for her not to approach, but she doesn’t listen to his warning. Her teeth almost sink into the flesh of the rabbit that is still twitching slightly in death.
A sharp slash of teeth opens her ear up, and blood starts to drip onto the leaf-littered forest floor. He takes a step back over his kill, waiting, watching her. The consuming hunger that rages in her stomach makes her forget the consequences. She half circles him with lifted lip, exposing her teeth. He pounces on her threat instantly, pinning her to the ground. He just holds her there until she stills underneath him; the threat of spilling blood from her throat of life is real in her mind.
Getting up again, he stands over his prey. My Wild doesn’t move off the ground. He snarls once more before tearing into the flesh, consuming the meat bite after bite as she watches him. Swallowing when he swallows, licking her lips when he does, she doesn’t try to move from her spot. He tosses her the remaining half of the rabbit. She crunches it down between powerful canines. She like rabbits more than mice.
Crouching down on her stomach, tail wagging happily, she gives him her peace sign. He gives her his own as he starts to lick her jaws and nuzzle her neck. Rubbing down her flanks up the other side of her body, he throws a leg over the top of her back, making to saturate every inch of her in his smell. She welcomes it from her provider of meat.
Her posture to him is of consent. Her neck angles to the side as his nose presses against where his mark will go.
She whimpers to him, a sing-song voice of a wolf wanting to have a mate’s mark. He’s a provider of food; he can be the provider of all her basic needs and her pup’s needs when the time comes.
He’s a male of worth.
Gripping her neck between powerful jaws, he presses down, sinking teeth into flesh, and our world comes alive.
He steps away, and blazing blue eyes observe us. Pain deep in our spine drops us to our belly; legs can’t hold our weight. Creeping tentacles of warmth overtake the pain. Slowly sliding in is a velvet bond taking hold.
Heartbeats croon to each other, trying to sync to one rhythm. It’s a matchstick flame that’s starting between us.
The ebb and flow of emotions pound inside me, a rupture in my soul being repaired by a new bond taking hold. I feel great guilt to Clayton, great agony as a small part of me is being ripped away violently.
The Wild in me is beyond satisfied. Her mate is beyond anything she thought possible. She is looking toward a future with this wolf as I try to let go of a mate I had no physical connection with.
Strong fingers rub down the length of my wolf’s back, down her thighs, behind her ears. He’s whispering soothing sounds to her and me. He understands this; he’s felt the same thing. He knows the severing of something that’s embedded deep inside.
“Shift for me, Rya. I want to talk with you.” So on the forest floor surrounded by the decaying rot of fall, I shift, meeting his eyes as his lips brush against mine. So soft, so gentle, so comforting. He’s holding me against him in his powerful arms, fingers gripping into the flesh of my hips.
“I can feel you. I can sense everything you’re feeling now. The guilt, the pain, the pleasure, and the conflict you’re having inside yourself.” He sounds sad saying the last part.
I just lean my head into his chest, letting him cradle me against him. He brings me in even closer as he holds me, not letting go as I sink inside myself with drowning emotions of back and forth thought. Guilty pleasure consumes me, and I weep into his naked flesh. Part of me feels like I’m draining out, while another part feels as if I’m getting fuller.
Rough strong hands grip me tight, and shivers run along my skin from his touch. A moan comes out of my mouth, he brings me into him even closer. He’s between my legs, my back pressed against the dampened ground. Looking into the sky, I see those dark green pines, standing, watching, swaying in the wind. The scent of pine in the air swirls around my nose.
“Rya.” The maleness of him wants inside his female, to join as one.
He holds himself there, not moving further. Stiffening underneath him, I’m not ready yet for that.
He understands without words.
“Let’s go back to your house.” He’s up and off me. I look at him, all of him. A male who’s in prime physical shape. Desire pounds into me. He throws a smile over his shoulder before shifting effortlessly.
His midnight wolf rushes me before turning at the last minute into another direction. This entices my Wild to rise within me. The shift is not so bad now, not really fast, but much faster than before. We play a teasing game of chase all the way home with him leading the way. She couldn’t get herself back home yet; she has no idea how.
The late stage of the afternoon sun greets us as he shifts, opening the door for me to get into my home. I notice how my yard is all cleaned up, trees chopped down, the wood stacked in neat piles for the next winter. If I try to burn it now, it would just smoke and really not produce the heat that is needed in those long winter months.
Dallas stands outside the door with clothes in his hands that were placed right beside the door for his return.
Making it to my room, I shift into skin, getting dressed quickly. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, I can see the mark on my neck that his wolf placed. It’s a faint scar that tells others that
I have a male who has claimed me as his. It’s not as bold as when the skin side marks you, but it’s still there, letting all the wolves know to stay away. No males like their females touched by other males; it causes battles of the dying kind.
So now we will see if all those tales are true of a moon-eyed wolf being able to hold marks of other males, not just their true mate. All the stares I received when my eye color finally took hold when I was away from here. That pack’s Luna paying me a special visit, asking questions that she had no right asking me. She was very interested in how my own mate rejected me; she only had daughters, no sons. After that, there was always a Luna trying to meet with me for this reason or that. I was offered numerous job opportunities in other packs, but their offers were all turned down by Luna Catherine.
A memory filters across my mind. Have I met Luna Grace before? If I did, it was two years ago. I need to ask her about this.
Looking at my mark, I feel as if this will stick. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t itch, and it feels pleasurable as my fingertips brush against it. My eyes flutter closed slightly, the effect of touching the mark causing a fire to spread inside me. Desire, want, a need start to build up within. Undercurrents of deep pleasure start to pulse to life; goosebumps raise and shiver the surface of my skin.
“Rya, can I come in?” Dallas calls from the door where I left him.
Coming out of my room, I see him standing at the entrance, waiting to come in. He’s dressed, a slight blush against his neck. He’s breathing slightly harder, eyes that want, his emotions screaming to take what’s his now. A male Alpha wanting to have a Luna by his side.
“Come in.” He takes that step inside my home, relief inside himself felt within me.
“Do you regret it, Rya?” His head is tilted slightly, waiting for my answer.
“Yes and no.” It’s my truth that I need to tell him now.
“I understand. It must be very hard for you.”
“It is, and it isn’t. I know that Clayton doesn’t want me, but deep down inside me, there was hope.” The look of hurt in Dallas’s face hurts my soul. He grips onto the chair as a wave of fear passes over him that I will choose Clayton in the end. It’s a painful hurt that he’s feeling like his stomach is being sliced open with claws, letting his insides tumble out.
“I’ll fight for you, Rya. I will fight for every inch I gain in your soul. I’m not going to give up on us.”
“I’m sorry, Dallas. It’s not what you wanted to hear, but I can’t help how I feel.” It’s almost like those abused women who would prefer to stay with an abuser than leave and have a better life. That’s what I see when I see Clayton. He has never wanted me, he has never shown me love, yet deep down I want him in a very sick way. Yet here’s Dallas standing in front of me, trying to be everything that I need and want.
“I’ll just have to work harder, won’t I, to change your mind?” He’s getting closer to me now. His body warmth encases me with a feeling of fullness instead of emptiness. “I’ve been talking with Clayton, making sure that he knows everything that’s happening between us, between my brother and Kennedy. I’ve been keeping him informed of everything. I think it is easier for him, so nothing is a surprise when he does fully heal. He has all day to think about what’s happening. He has nothing but time as he heals to deal with all of his feelings toward Kennedy and my brother. He never expected to live. Do you know what his biggest concern is?” His truth will hurt me just as much as mine hurt him.
“His first words out of his mouth when he woke up was, is she okay. He wasn’t asking about you. He only wanted to know about her. He doesn’t care about you, Rya. He also gave me his blessing to mark you, to make you my mate.” His words take my breath away, and my stomach feels just like his, ripped open and bleeding.
“This is not meant to hurt you, but I know it does, Rya. Clayton and Kennedy were my friends before you came back. They would pick me up, and I’d go out for dinners with them, hang out with them on weekends when I wasn’t working. I actually like that male. They were a fun couple. I asked him once how could he fight the mate bond. Clayton said it was easy. You weren’t around, and he loved Kennedy. That you just weren’t what he wanted, that you were not his type of female. When he said that, Kennedy would interject and tell me what you looked like. How you were really ugly with big teeth, no shape to your body. She said that you had no friends, that your family wasn’t from good stock. You were prone to aggression. That you tried to kill her when you were younger.” He shakes his head to himself. “How you were whipped for that. That they had to stand there and watch. She thinks you did that on purpose just to make Clayton feel bad that you got whipped. You should have seen the shock on their faces when I said in my pack we would have let you fight it out. Winner gets the prize. We don’t whip our juveniles. We let them fight until one submits to the other.”
“If I could have fought her, I would have won.” I say it with a conviction. My Wild would have drunk at her throat of life.
“I have no doubts that you could take her back then, but now, I don’t think you can. She is a female who has spent years training by Clayton’s side. Learning, watching him. You might be bigger, stronger, but she has more knowledge about fighting than you do. Try to remember that.” He’s trying to make his point, staring hard into my eyes.
“My brother has to sleep with one eye open. She has tried many times to open him up. She’s very eager to show him all her skill she has learned at Clayton’s side.”
“She’s tried to take your brother out?” I’m slightly shocked. I thought maybe she would succumb to the bond.
“Yes, she has. I feel very sorry for my brother. He’s got the biggest heart out of all my brothers.” He’s looking out the window, his attention on the shoreline. I notice Cash walking barefoot in the water, looking at the ground, eyes sweeping down where water meets land, little rippling waves soaking the bottom of his pants.
“He hasn’t found her yet?” I ask.
“Not yet, seems she gave him the slip for now. Used the water to hide her scent. Very smart wolf he’s dealing with. He just needs to be smarter than her.” I watch Cash. He’s slowly walking away from our view, hands in his pockets, looking at the waterline for clues.
“He’s insane,” I blurt out.
“No, he’s just hurting, probably worse than her. I think he always imagined that his mate would fall at his feet. It’s hard if your mate is in love with a wolf of greater power. He feels inadequate against Clayton. How can he compete against an Alpha? He’s of alpha blood, but he isn’t as strong as him, and that’s hard on a male wolf. You females look how beautiful another female is; males look at how powerful another male is.” He’s sitting on a chair, looking around the room, looking at the walls that have no pictures hanging on them. A blank canvas of white that I really need to paint with colors that I love.
“Are you afraid of Clayton?” I’m curious of what he thinks of my mate.
“No.” One word spoken with a conviction of feeling that I know is his truth. He reaches his hand out for me to take. I do, and he pulls me on his lap, so I’m straddling him on the chair, feet dangling, not touching the ground.
We sit there in quiet for a while. I’m in my own thoughts as he just watches me. His face changes slightly with the emotions I’m feeling. How can I hide what I feel from him?
“Have I told you that you smell like blossoms on a fruit tree in the springtime? Do you have any idea what you do to me now? I can feel inside of you, Rya.” I see the hairs on my arms now angling toward him. He’s affecting me on a primitive level, my needs, my wants, my desires. He gives me a low growl that makes my body respond naturally to him. I can feel the little sparks of electricity that run along the length of my body, pooling into my lower abdomen.
His hand gently brushes my hair, bringing the ends to his nose as he takes in the smell. His other hand rests on the curve of my hip. I kiss his neck, his ear, his jawline, rolling my body into his. His hands go up my shirt,
finding flesh that wants to be touched. I moan into his mouth as the door bursts open.
I jump off him. We see Cash carrying Kennedy in his arms. He’s soaking wet, as if he’s been swimming. Her lips are blue, barely breathing. She smells cold. Her heart rate is very slow, her breathing very shallow and slow.
“Put her on the couch, Cash. Rya, light a fire. What happened?” Dallas is in complete control of the situation as he assesses her.
“She’s really cold. How did she get so cold?”
“I found where she was hiding, that island in the middle of the lake. She must have seen me and tried to escape. Just plunged into the water and started to swim. I couldn’t get her into the canoe. She overturned it.” His teeth are chattering, and he’s shivering with how cold he is.
“So we started to swim back together. Midway, she just started sinking in the water. She started panicking that she was getting too cold, that she couldn’t make it. She said her muscles were starting to cramp up.” I notice Dallas’s hands start to shake slightly. Some kind of memory flashing behind those eyelids—fear.
The fire starts to rage in the fireplace, not hot enough yet to produce the heat that they need. I get my duvet from my bed, putting it on the floor next to the fireplace so that they both can lay on it next to the heat. I will have to burn it afterward; I can’t stand her smell.
He picks her up as he lays down. With her back facing the fire, she’s pressed tightly against him. Covering them up, I get a spare pillow for their heads so they can share it. I’m going to burn that as well.
“She’ll be fine, but you can’t move her until she warms up,” Dallas instructs his brother.
“You need to be careful around the water, Cash. How many times have I told you?” Dallas raises his voice, and Cash winces slightly away.
“I know, Dallas.”
“No, you don’t know! You could have died. She could have died!” He’s full-on yelling at him.
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