Animal Attraction

by Lynn Marie

  It was the bond he’d talked about. Had to be. And how completely unfair was that? She felt outraged, offended—it was like she had no free will at all. It was like his werewolf magic, or whatever, had made her fall in love with him.

  So, maybe he was everything she could have asked for in a man… she still resented it on principal. And she couldn’t believe how easily she’d folded after he’d spoken some soft words and touched her. But the sound of his voice, the scent of him, the way his lips looked… it stirred her blood and lit a fire at the base of her spine. Every damn time. How could she fight this mating magic? It was like she’d never had a chance against him.

  Evelyn dropped her head into her hands. No fair. This being-in-love stuff was so not fair.

  Sitting on the bed of Trip’s pickup, Michael hung his head and smoothed back his hair with both hands. He held on around his temples, pulling the skin tightly enough that he couldn’t feel his pounding headache for an instant. It sprung back as he let go, bringing the shame and self-doubt with it. He’d beaten Brock tonight, but by the skin of his teeth. He knew it; Brock knew it; the Elders knew it. He’d seen it in their faces when he’d walked out of the ring.

  He’d made mistakes. He’d been slow. Brock had come close to drawing blood too many times. And when Michael had finally found the opportunity to end the fight, he’d gotten carried away—payback for scaring his mate.

  Leaves crunched under feet so massive they had to be Brock’s. Michael glanced up and caught sight of his cousin. To anyone who hadn’t seen the fight, Brock would have been instantly identifiable as the loser. He was bleeding from a head wound and limping. But he met Michael’s eye from under an eyebrow caked with drying blood without a hint of submission.

  In fact, the fucker smiled slightly, and a chill shot through Michael. Childish triumph because he thought he was closing in? Or maybe it was just the sinister look of all that blood on his face. Either way, it made Michael want to use that face as a mop to wipe the floor.

  Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of footsteps approaching. He relaxed—it was Trip—only to tense back up. There was an uneasiness in his best friend’s eyes, ever since the council meeting.

  “You going home to your female?” Trip asked, his tone light. “You look sort of strung out.”

  “Yeah. I’m going over.” He’d left his truck there, anyway, choosing to walk to the full moon ceremony to clear his head. To get the look of shock on her face out of his head.

  “Listen, man… I hate to say it, but you weren’t on your game tonight.”

  “I know. I was distracted. I told Evelyn—”

  “I knew it was about her,” he muttered. “She’s in your head, man.”

  Michael jerked. “What?”

  “I’m just saying that your focus used to be like steel. Something about this chick is throwing you off your game. I don’t know what it is, but…”

  Jesus, Trip picked a bad time to bring up this shit. He growled, the low tone vibrating through his chest. “She’s my mate, Trip.”

  There was a stretch of silence as it sunk in for both of them—Michael, admitting it aloud for the first time, and Trip hearing it. Finally, his face tightened. “Yeah. I figured.”

  “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Listen, you know I’ve got your back and I always have. You’re my Alpha. You’re their Alpha,” he said, pointing out to the now vacant circle in the middle of the cornfield. “She’s a human; not Alpha female material. They’ll never accept her, and she’ll always be an outsider.”

  Not what he fucking needed; another piece of his life slipping. His hold as Alpha was tenuous at best, he’d maybe permanently fucked everything up with his mate, and now his best friend was starting something? He shook his head. “Even if they don’t now, they will. That bake sale idea…”

  “And what if it doesn’t work out? She’ll be the scapegoat and you’ll be the face of another failed idea. This girl… she’s no one and she’s going to cost you this town.”

  Michael ground his jaw until it creaked. He’d never wanted to punch his best friend in the face quite this much. “You’re going to want to get out of my sight right now.”

  “Don’t fucking push me away now that you’ve got a girl.”

  “She’s not a girl. She. Is. My. Mate.” He slid off the back of the pickup and stared ever-so-slightly down at his best friend. For what was probably the first time, he used his Alpha influence over his Beta. “Fall in line, Trip.”

  Alarm crossed Trip’s face as he must have felt the pull towards Michael’s will. He immediately backed off, but looked even more miffed. “All right, fine. She’s your mate; I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… you’ve worked so hard. You’re really going to risk everything for her?”

  Michael let out a breath and clapped his hand on Trip’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was an apology, and as much as he was likely to get. “There’s no risk. It’s not a choice between the woman I love or the town I love. I’m choosing both and I’m going to find a way to make it work. Trust me.”

  He looked unconvinced, but bit his tongue. “I guess I have to. Okay, I’m beat. See you tomorrow.”

  “Of course. Night.”

  As Trip got into his truck and pulled away, Michael looked back up into the moonlit sky. 4 moons left, and then he’d be Alpha. Hopefully with his mate at his side.

  Was she asleep? Was she thinking about him? Well, that was a given, considering the bomb he’d just dropped on her. But was she thinking about him with disgust? He knew the sexual connection between them was alive, but was it enough to keep her close?

  She wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t let her. She’d take a piece of him with her and he’d never get it back. So if she ran, he’d have no choice but to follow her and bring her back. He’d never get violent or physical, but he wouldn’t chose between her or the town. This was his home, the place he was sworn to protect and she was everything he wanted, everything good… He couldn’t live without her; it just wasn’t possible.

  He took off through the fields for the main road, flattening the wheat in his wake. He wanted to go to her, his cock was pulsing already in anticipation, but he wasn’t sure she would see him. A woman like her—hell, any human woman—would probably want more space than a few hours’ worth.

  Spending the night alone was a pretty grim prospect tonight. So he took his time walking through the fields, watching the moon fall in the sky and contemplating what his next move should be. How soon should he try to talk to her?

  By the time he reached the main road and was only about a mile or so from town, he’d come to the conclusion that he would just hop into his truck and go straight home. He couldn’t wake her; it was well past 1AM. He’d call her in the morning.

  Evidently, he wasn’t going to have to wait that long. As he pulled into his driveway, he recognized her scent even before he saw her car in his driveway. She was sitting on his front step, knees drawn into her chest, and she looked up when he pulled up in front of the garage.

  His stomach turned over, worry hot on the heels of elation. He hadn’t even realized how concerned he was about their first face-to-face—maybe it would be good to get it over with, especially because he couldn’t interpret the look on her face. She seemed all at once scared, confused and determined. Conflicted.

  She stood as he killed the engine and got out. “Evelyn? Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, er… yeah. I’m fine, I guess,” she laughed once and rubbed her arms, keeping her gaze firmly on the ground. She looked small and cold and it was all Michael could do to maintain some respectful distance.

  He stared at her, hard. “So…”

  “Why am I here?”

  “Well, yeah.” He shrugged one shoulder and shoved his hand into his pocket for lack of anything better to do. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy to see you, but I kind of assumed you’d want some space.”

  “Hell if I know,” she muttered, still not meeti
ng his eye. “I probably should stay far, far away. But I… I couldn’t sleep and—”

  Her voice wavered and Michael took a step forward. “And,” he prompted gently.

  She glanced up at him and took a deep breath. “I can’t explain it, but I feel like I’m going to float away. It’s like even though you just turned everything upside down, you’re still the ground to me. So would you mind…” she cleared her throat, “would you mind holding me tonight? I think I just need you to hold me.”

  Warmth in the form of intense male satisfaction settled throughout him, though he immediately schooled his triumph when he remembered her distress. “I can do that. Lets go inside.”

  “This isn’t… I mean, I’m not…”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  He led her through the well-furnished living room, well-stocked kitchen and bright, airy living space. During the time they’d been practicing self-defense, she’d come to love his house. It was all homey wood-paneling and dark, warm colors. The décor wasn’t to her style, per se, but the rugged, almost cabin-y feel suited him.

  The king sized bed in his room was the main feature, but the matching desk and bureau all looked hand-made by an expert. The curtains and bead spread were a very masculine, no-nonsense black that made her smile. “You really need an infusion of femininity in here,” she muttered absently.

  “Are you volunteering?” he quipped with a grin.

  When she didn’t respond, his smile slipped and he looked away. He pulled back the comforter and lay down in the middle. When he opened his arms, she climbed in next to him and nestled backwards against his chest. He laid the blankets over them and tucked an arm firmly under her breasts. She could feel his hot breath on her neck.

  “You’re so warm.”

  “Probably a metabolism thing. Wolf-thing.”

  “Oh,” she said, her voice sounding small to her own hears. His body tightened with tension behind her, his muscles rigid. He was worried, she suddenly realized.

  “Michael?” she said into the expanse of empty room in front of her. She wanted to face him.

  “Yeah?” his voice was halfway between anxious and resigned.

  “I don’t think I care. I… I did a lot of thinking tonight. And I think I decided that I don’t care about the wolf-thing.”

  Michael pulled his arm out from beneath her and urged her backwards, shifting until they lay face to face. She expected reproach, or maybe a stern warning about the repercussions of spilling the proverbial beans; she didn’t expect the reverence on his face.

  He drew both her hands to his lips, kissed them and cradled them against his chest. “I’m a selfish bastard.”

  She jolted. “What?”

  “I am. You deserved the truth, and I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

  She smiled, grateful for his apology. “Thank you for that. But I do know it’s a secret, and it’s safe with me. I understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  He looked troubled, but said nothing.

  “Tell me about it,” she urged. “I want to know everything. Where did werewolves come from?”

  “Well, right off the bat… werewolves don’t really exist, as far as I know. We’re actually shifters and our animal form just happens to be a wolf. And as for what it means…” he paused, thinking for a while. She appreciated the thought he was putting into his answer. “Well, the theory is that it started back when people believed in spirits and Gods and this land was wild. People needed to protect what was theirs—food, land, children. There’s this whole story about how the first man bonded with a wolf’s spirit, but I haven’t heard it since I was a kid and I don’t think I’d do it justice.

  Suffice it to say, wolves are better hunters. They see better at night, smell ten times better, move much faster…. There are lots of benefits to having an animal’s senses and a human’s capacity for logic and reason. It meant survival, then.”

  When he laid it out like that, it didn’t even sound so fantastical. “And what does it mean now?”

  He gave a great shrug, moving the blankets. “Damned if I know. We don’t need to hunt for food anymore. We haven’t needed night vision since electricity. Heightened hearing is nice, but we don’t have any natural predators since we isolated ourselves from the forests and live behind walls of cement. I guess all that’s left is instincts and tradition. The instinct to protect, for one, will never leave. And though we like to think of ourselves as civilized, too, I know that if anyone ever went after something that was mine… I’d go after them.”

  Evelyn gulped. He’d just become very intense and the way he was looing at her made her feel like she fell under that category.

  She realized he was waiting for her reaction, but she didn’t know what to think. On one hand, it repelled her. Killing was wrong. On the other… she could understand the impulse. She cleared her throat. “Keep going.”

  “The traditions are probably the most important thing we have left for our kind. And most of them have to do with my position as Alpha, and even now some of the lines are blurring.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Well, tradition dictates that an Alpha keep his line as pure as possible.”

  “What? Oh,” she said, wincing. Suddenly the comment she’d overheard about someone’s daughter being “full-blooded” made sense.

  “Like I said. The lines are blurring. It doesn’t matter what some stick-up-his-ass Elder thinks. No one can argue with a mate bond.”

  She suppressed a smile, sensing that the politics of this were going to get a little tricky at times. “What else does it meant to be Alpha?”

  “Well, even if we don’t need to protect ourselves on an individual level anymore, the Alpha still sees to his pack. Keeps everyone safe.”

  “And your pack is everyone in this town?”

  “Almost.”

  Her eyebrows shot up as her mind flitted from store to store and house to house, wondering if the inhabitants ran with the pack at the full moon. It was a small town, but that was still a lot of people… er, wolves. “That sounds like an enormous responsibility.”

  “It can be. But it’s in my blood.”

  Funny, how that was what he mentioned first. It was probably one of those father-son things that was passed down and had always been a weight on his shoulders. “Do you want to be Alpha?”

  He stretched an arm behind his head, looking thoughtful. “No one’s asked me that in a long time. I’m not sure I seriously asked myself before I signed up to let everyone fight me for the privilege.”

  “What?” She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s just a ritual. It’s a way to make sure the ascending Alpha is strong and worthy. No one gets hurt, I promise.”

  She eyed him, doubtful but willing to take him at his word.

  “But to answer your question, yes. I want to be Alpha.”

  “Why?” she asked curiously. “I mean, from what you’ve said so far, it sounds like a lot of pain and suffering for a bunch of people who, for all intents and purposes, are kind of pains in the ass.”

  He chuckled. “To be totally cliché, I grew up knowing this is who I am. It’s part destiny fulfillment, part self-actualization. I love this town and I love these pains the ass. We’re family. Family drives you nuts sometimes.”

  Evelyn reflected on her own family and couldn’t disagree. “So you’re really just like normal people. You’re just… special.”

  “Yes. It’s like I told you. My heart beats, my head thinks, my body wants.” At that, he reached for her, bringing her down against his chest again and kissing her soundly.

  The next morning at her usual ungodly early hour, Evelyn untangled her limbs from Michael’s and crept out of his bedroom. Sneaking out was much easier when she didn’t have to pick up her clothes off the floor, she reflected. Last night sleeping together without sex had been a first. On her way out the door, she shot him a text so he woul
d know she hadn’t just left him cold and alone in bed—she had a store to open and goods to bake.

  Mixing the muffin batter and kneading the bread dough was soothing and she let her mind wander as she went through the repetitive motions. The rhythm of her kitchen felt familiar and natural, like being home, and she desperately needed its comfort. Even though she’d worked things out with Michael, she knew herself well enough to recognize that she still had some emotions to sort out about the whole supernatural-creatures-are-real bomb.

  As she placed the muffins into the oven and set the bread aside to proof, the front door bell tinkled. She hurried out front, but quelled her excitement when she saw Elizabeth Morley staring at her chicken-shaped wall clock with an air of distaste.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly, determined to maintain her sense of normalcy. It was hard, though, when she couldn’t stop wondering what Mrs. Morley’s wolf form looked like.

  Mrs. Morley turned and smiled. It wasn’t tight, but it wasn’t quite friendly, either. “Good morning,” she returned politely. “I came by so we could hammer out some of the details, seeing as how we’ve only got a little under a month. Is now a convenient time?”

  “Details…” she trailed off. All at once, it came rushing back. She’d volunteered to help organize a bake sale. It felt like a million years ago. “Oh, right! Okay, cool—yeah, now is fine. Would you like to have a seat? Maybe some coffee?”

  Perhaps she hadn’t been expecting Evelyn’s enthusiasm, because she looked a bit surprised. “Oh, um… all right.” She took a seat gingerly on the wrought iron bistro chair with her back to the display window.

  Evelyn loaded up a neat little tray she had stashed in the back with cups, saucers, coffee pot, cream, sugar and a pen and pad of paper. She poured for her guest, then herself—not missing Mrs. Morley’s little eyebrow quirk of approval—and settled down in her seat. She took a fortifying sip and sat back.