Enchanted By The Wolf (Paranormal Romance)

by Michele Hauf

  “Yes, my best man. He’s also my best friend. We grew up in the pack together. I consider him my brother.” He grabbed the doorknob and turned to catch his bobbing, giddy wife with hands clasped in gleeful expectation. “You forgetting something?”

  She gave him a confused purse of her lips.

  “Clothes?”

  “Right!” She dashed off and up the stairs.

  Kir invited Jacques inside, but he couldn’t stay. Looking over his shoulder, most likely to catch a glance of his sparkly wife, his friend handed him the files. “Your brain works well when you’re kicking back. I get that. Let’s hope you can figure something new in this case.”

  “I’ll give it my best. See you tomorrow, Jacques.”

  * * *

  Bea heard the door close before she got her top on. Arms tangled in the pink shirt, she looked out the window and followed the werewolf’s retreat. He was as big as Kir, yet had short dark hair and a bounce to his step.

  Had Kir made him leave so he wouldn’t have to introduce the winged wife to his pack mate? Not like she was a big secret. Though, as she’d mentioned to him, there had been snickers and derisive glances at the wedding ceremony. While the sidhe and werewolves held good relations, no doubt Kir’s pack was aware she was a half-breed.

  And that other half was nothing good. Nothing that a werewolf wanted to deal with, anyway.

  Plopping onto the bed and tossing the shirt to the floor, she pulled up her legs and jammed her chin on top of her knees. “Stupid half-blood faery. You don’t even know what your other half is.”

  She doubted Kir could locate her mother; nor should she expect so much from him. He was a kind man. But who was she to ask anything of a man who had already sacrificed his freedom to marry her as a means to seal a bargain?

  “Jacques couldn’t stay,” Kir said as he took the stairs up. “Otherwise, I would have introduced you two.” He wielded a manila folder stuffed with papers.

  Bea finished pulling on the T-shirt, suddenly feeling exposed as the big, hulking wolf crossed the room and stood before her. “That’s okay. I know I’m not the pack’s favorite person.”

  “Why would you say something like that?”

  She shrugged. “Half of me is not something wolves generally like to chum around with.”

  “The other half of you is.”

  “Well, then, which half do you want? Please pick the top half because I don’t know what I’d do without a head.”

  “I’ll take the full package.” He knelt before her on the floor and set the folder on the bed. Bea sat up straighter. What did he have in mind? The pose seemed entirely too princely. “I’m one hundred percent behind the plan for us to make this marriage the best it can be.”

  He stroked his hands up her calves, setting a warm fire slowly up her limbs.

  “Be damned what everyone else thinks?” she asked with hope.

  He nodded. “They probably don’t hate you as much as you think they do.”

  “Oh, they do. But I’m used to it.”

  “It bothers me that you are used to it.” He kissed her knee, then the other. The brush of his beard quickened the fire into a blaze that rocketed up to her loins. “No one should be treated as if they don’t belong or aren’t right.”

  “Aren’t you the positive Pete. Don’t worry about me, wolf. I’m a survivor. I just, well, I really do want to find my mother.”

  “I said I would help you.”

  “But you also said you probably shouldn’t.”

  “I’ll figure out a way to do it on the sly. But if you don’t have any information...”

  “I have her name.”

  “That will help.”

  “It’s Sirque.”

  “Cirque. Like in the circus?”

  “No, it’s spelled with an S. It’s the only thing my father ever gave me about my mother. I used to write her name in the sand gardens, then quickly erase it if one of my brothers or sisters came sneaking up.”

  “I’ll check the database tomorrow when I’m at work.”

  “Thank you, Kir.”

  He moved between her knees, and she cupped his face and kissed him on the mouth. He caught her hands, surprise dancing in his eyes.

  “What?” Bea asked, a little freaked by his reaction.

  “That’s the first time we’ve kissed.”

  “No, we’ve— Really?” She thought about it. Huh. “What about our kiss at the ceremony?”

  “Doesn’t count as a real kiss.”

  “You’re right. So many people were watching. And I was nervous. So, just now, that was our first official private kiss.” She touched her lips. “You...okay with that? I mean, if I’d known, I would have gone for something a little longer, more...romantic.”

  He pulled her to him and pressed his mouth over hers in a connection that scurried through Bea’s system faster than her wings could flutter. And the fluttering combined with the warm stirring at her loins and alchemized a heady, needy desire.

  The wolf’s arms moved down her back, bracing her tightly to his chest as he dived deep into the kiss. Tasting her. Feeding upon her. Claiming her. She had never felt more wanted, more appealing and desirable than in this moment. And his touch went beyond the frenzied slide of skin against skin they’d been sharing the past week. With the werewolf’s kiss, he entered her in the most intimate way possible.

  And she never wanted him to leave.

  Pressing a palm to his chest, she wished he wore no shirt or vest. Still, she could feel his life thundering against her fingers, racing closer, as if a wolf were on her heels. And Bea sighed into the kiss, releasing all the negative feelings and emotions she’d brought out of Faery with her. In Kir’s arms, everything was better.

  “Need this,” she muttered, and he twisted his mouth to the side and dashed his tongue against hers.

  His hand slid up to her breast and squeezed the nipple none too gently. Bea moaned into the kiss and moved her breasts against his chest, wanting to put herself so close to him he couldn’t force her out. She wanted to find a safe place. A place where she could be a half sidhe, half whatever and be accepted.

  Not yet, though. She knew he couldn’t accept what even she didn’t know. But she would enjoy this moment while she could.

  “On our wedding night,” he said, pulling from the kiss yet keeping his mouth close to hers. “Your wings were out. But my werewolf didn’t care. It just wanted...”

  “To do the nasty.”

  He nodded. “That’s usually the way it goes on the night of the full moon, and when I’m in werewolf form.”

  “I knew what to expect. And I did put my wings away before we did the nasty.”

  “We’ve been pretty much doing it the same fast and frenzied way ever since. But why do you always put your wings away beforehand?”

  “Wings out is the ultimate intimacy, Kir.”

  “I understand that. Do you think it’s too soon for us to try it?”

  She shrugged.

  “Being in my werewolf shape is the ultimate for us wolves. But I don’t want to push you. I know it will take time for you to trust me. I’m curious, is all.”

  He wanted to do the wing, eh? Well, Bea would not argue some wing sex. Because...? Because she did trust him. And curiosity was never a bad thing.

  “Maybe if we slowed it down,” he said, and nudged his nose along her earlobe. “And...I know that when you touch a faery’s wings...”

  “Mmm... Yes, I want that intimacy with you. Let’s do it.”

  “I don’t want to pressure you.”

  “Oh, please, no one tells this faery what to do. If I want to have winged sex, I will. And I think you’ll like it, too.”

  “Okay.” He kissed her mouth lightly, his mustache tickling her skin. “How do we start?”

  “Diving right in always works for me.”

  She unfurled her wings and they brushed the air with her summer scent. Dipping one forward, she dashed it across Kir’s hair. “Touch all you like,
big boy. But know—” she touched his lips with a fingertip and met his wanting gaze “—such a touch drives me completely mad.”

  “A good mad?”

  “A very good, orgasmic, giddy, sex mad.”

  Kissing along her jaw and down her neck, his other hand played over the uppermost radius bone and the soft gossamer fabric that stretched between it and the ulna bone. The touch felt like a finger to her clitoris. It was that intense and intimately attuned to her pleasure.

  “Ooh, by the blessed Norns.” Bea rolled to her side, going on her hands and knees, and giving him easy access to her wings. “Yes, right there. Oh, baby, you’ve got the touch.”

  Kir explored every portion of her four-quartered wings, dancing delirious sensations throughout her system and gathering them all into her core, which hummed and moaned and ached for release. His hot breaths shimmered over her wings. Barely there touches ignited a coil of flame that sizzled in her being.

  And with a surprising ease, he fitted himself against her back, kneeling over her from behind. He slipped one hand across her stomach and down, finding her moistness that ached for contact. First touch released a gasp from Bea’s lips. And it was the kiss to the base of her wings, where the wing bones segued into her spine, that pushed her into a giddy, soaring, moaning orgasm.

  * * *

  As Bea came she wrapped her wings backward and about Kir’s shoulders and back. He shivered at the gossamer caress. It was warm and alive, shuddering through his system and overtaking him in orgasm.

  He breathed in faery dust, and it tasted sweet, turning liquid and like honey mead to quench his thirst. Burying his face in her hair, he held her there, the two of them giving everything in the frenzied shivers their bodies shared. For the touch had gone beyond anything they had previously shared. He hadn’t even slipped off his pants. Connection, pure energy shared between them, had brought them both to climax.

  He fell to his back, taking her with him. She sprawled, exhausted and elated, across his chest. Her heartbeats thundered against his.

  “That was freakin’ amazing,” she gasped against his throat, then licked his skin. “I dusted you.”

  “You always dust me when you come.”

  “Sorry. It’s what happens with sidhe.”

  “It tastes...like mead.”

  “Really? You like to taste my dust?”

  He shrugged, pushed her hair from her eyes and pulled it through his fingers. “I didn’t do it purposely, but, yes, it was delicious.”

  “Kind of how drinking your blood would be to me.” She eyed his neck where the carotid, no doubt, pulsed madly.

  “Don’t think about it, Bea.”

  “I know. But would it be so awful if my bite gave you a hunger for blood?”

  “It would. My pack would banish me.”

  “Oh. Really? That seems extreme.”

  “Wolves would never harm a human, nor do we ever wish to rely on them—including drinking their blood—for survival. Such a hunger would result in my banishment from the pack.”

  “I hadn’t considered that. You’d lose your whole family.”

  “Exactly. But I’ll know soon enough—”

  “Know what?”

  “Uh...”

  “What aren’t you saying, Kir?” She smoothed her hands over his hair and studied him intently with her sex-softened gaze.

  “I, uh, went to a doctor to make sure your bite hadn’t tainted me.”

  “Oh.”

  Her reaction wasn’t the angry rebuttal he’d expected. But her disappointment stabbed at him perhaps even harder. “I have to know, Bea. As I explained—”

  “That’s fine. You should get yourself checked out. I’m sorry. It was a stupid mistake.” She rolled off him and onto her back, her wings tucked under her. “I’ll never bite you again, but I seriously do need a bite. Like tomorrow. I’m starved for the vitality I get when I take from another person.”

  “Promise you won’t take from any in the neighborhood. You have to keep a low profile. Just like the vamps do. And no wings.”

  The offending wings fluttered, sifting dust over their embrace. “Promise,” she said, then reached over the side of the bed. “Your papers fell.”

  “I need to read through them before going to bed. Will you mind if I lie in bed with the light on?”

  “Not at all. But what’s this?” She studied the file folder. One of the papers had slipped out and was crinkled from her rolling on top of it. “You’re looking for a demon?”

  Kir rolled over beside her. She tapped the word Jacques had written. “Denizen? That’s what you call a group of demons. I thought you didn’t like demons.”

  “Hate them. We’re not sure who or what tortured the vampire we found. Could be werewolves, could be demons. I promised the vamp’s girlfriend I wouldn’t stop until I found out.”

  “That’s very noble of you, but I thought you policed your species? So you’re helping a dreaded vampire?”

  “Bea, I don’t dread vamps. Just their bite.”

  “Right. Okay, I get it. You don’t have anything to fear from me.”

  “I don’t fear you.” He tugged her to him and kissed her quickly. “I like you.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “But you can’t like someone and hate them.”

  “Exactly. But don’t let me stop you from hating me.”

  “I don’t want to hate you,” she said on a whisper. Now her lashes fluttered and she avoided eye contact with him. “I’m just not sure I know how to do anything but.”

  He directed her to look at him, and before he could speak, the tear that spilled down her cheek caught him and he swallowed hard. “Don’t be sad, Bea. This realm is new to you. Marriage is new to you. You can go as slow as you need to in finding your place here. And here.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart.

  And Bea spread her other arm across his chest and laid her head down beside the hand over his heart. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 10

  Bea sensed the moment Kir walked in the front door. She didn’t hear the door open and close. It was a visceral pull in her muscles that sat up and stood at alert. He was home, this man who knew how to touch her wings with such expertise he had made her cry out in utter joy.

  She stood up from the dried flowers she’d been studying in the garden bed out back and almost ran toward the house. Almost.

  Relaxing her shoulders and dropping her expectant posture, she reasoned, “Girl can’t up and run every time her man walks in. He’ll start thinking I like him. I do not.” Just because he’d admitted to liking her didn’t mean she had to jump on board as quickly. “I hate him. Right?”

  Stepping lightly across the newly greened lawn, she took her time, fighting the urge to run all the way.

  Kir strode through the patio doors, blocking his vision with a hand. The sun was high and bright. He was home early. “Hey, I found a faery in my garden!”

  “Oh, make a funny about the faery, will you?” She tried to act affronted, but the wolf’s surprising humor made her want to leap into his arms and wrap her legs about his hips.

  “You making my flowers grow?”

  “You think all faeries can touch a flower and bring it back to life? Okay, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think there’s much hope for this science experiment gone wrong. Those decrepit shafts of brown matter died a noble death, I’m sure. Though I did bring some life back to the grass.”

  He looked over the green grass. “So you did. This is great! The old lady a couple houses down used to come and tend the flowers once a week. I haven’t had the desire to test my brown thumb since her death last year.”

  “Oh, sweet. You and the little old ladies have a garden party.”

  He tilted a wonky look on her. “You’re particularly snarky today.”

  Bea flexed her bicep. “Gotta keep the snark muscle exercised. So, why are you home early? Looking for some more wing action?” She almost unfurled her wings b
ut then remembered his warning about keeping them concealed in places where she might be seen by humans.

  “I searched your mother’s name in the database.”

  She dropped the teasing tone and stepped up to the wolf. “You did?” Her heart fluttered in anticipation and she bounced on the balls of her feet.

  “No vampires named Sirque.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders deflated. “Did you search other species?”

  “I, uh, didn’t. Sorry. Didn’t think beyond vampire. You think I— Yes, of course. You said you weren’t sure what your other half is. It was a quick search. Didn’t want anyone at work to see me doing it. I’ll look again.”

  “Thank you. I thought for sure she was vamp.”

  “She could be. Our database isn’t complete, and if she’s out of Europe, then...” He tilted up her head with a finger to her chin. “You okay, Bea?”

  “Peaches and cream. I’ve been a half-breed whatsit for so long, I can handle it for another day. Or three. Or even forever.”

  He pulled her into a hug. “Something will turn up. And you’re not a whatsit. You’re a pretty faery.”

  “Thank you for looking for my mother’s name. I appreciate it more than you will ever know.”

  And his hug was all she needed. Bea couldn’t remember a time when she’d received such a genuine, unconditional hug. Sidhe didn’t do the touchy-feely stuff. Or maybe that was what she’d grown up to believe. Her family, especially, had been into the royal entitlement thing. Bowing to one another had been de rigueur.

  She could get used to hugs. Especially the ones that surrounded her with wolf.

  Kir took her hand and they strolled into the living room. “So, my mother asked about you today.”

  “She did? The mother-in-law, eh? I don’t think I met her at the wedding. Is her interest in me good, bad or ugly?”

  “It’s good. She wants to take you out with a couple of the pack females for a lunch and shopping date tomorrow.”

  “Shopping? I can dig it!”

  “I thought you would. I think this is a great chance for you to get to know the pack ladies. I’ll let her know when to pick you up. Oh, and, Bea?”