by Jane Jamison
I am not going to stand by and do nothing. I’ve got your back, Foster.
Betsy gathered her courage. She started after him.
“Betsy, no.”
She disregarded Billy’s warning. Instead, her focus was set on Foster’s back. Suddenly, he stopped.
“Shit.”
Foster had found something. But what? She picked up the pace even as Billy called for her to hold up and wait on him. She was by Foster’s side when she realized what had caught his attention.
The deer she’d seen earlier with the unique white patch on its back lay dead, its stomach shredded, entrails spilling out. Blood soaked the ground and colored the pretty tanned skin a dark black-red. She covered her mouth, stifling the scream on the tip of her tongue.
A vicious growl rumbled out of the trees. She pulled her gaze away from the mutilated carcass. Amber eyes glared with a hatred she’d have expected only from a human. Intelligence shone in the white tiger’s eyes, and blood dripped from its long, sharp fangs. The beast crept forward, ears back, hunkering closer to the ground.
She blinked. A white tiger in Georgia? But how?
“Foster!” shouted Billy. “Watch out!”
Foster shoved her hard, sending her flying through the air to land hard several feet away. The force of the shove knocked air out of her, and when she landed, what little air she had left burst out of her. The world spun as her mind tried to make sense of what had happened.
Growls blasted the air. Growls that came from more than one animal. Were there other tigers? Pain hit her, sharp and hard, as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Billy was by her side in the next moment.
“Run to the pickup, Betsy.”
Although he yanked her onto her feet, she couldn’t run. She was frozen to the spot as a wolf and the tiger faced off.
Where’s Foster?
She searched and found Scott running toward them, but there was no sign of Foster. The tiger leapt at the wolf, and the world exploded around her as Billy leveled his rifle and pulled the trigger.
The big cat screeched and twisted in the air. It landed on its feet and then dashed away. The wolf growled and whirled around but didn’t chase after it.
“Shoot again, Billy.”
Instead, Billy lowered the gun.
She slapped his arm and pointed at the wolf. “Shoot him before he attacks us.”
Billy didn’t look at her. “He won’t.”
“How do you know for sure?” She stared at the dark brown wolf, a wolf larger than any she’d ever seen.
“Because it’s Foster.” Billy strode over, snatched up his clothes, and started getting dressed like Scott was doing.
She gaped at them, unable to fathom how they could be so calm. The wolf padded toward two of the men she loved. “Watch out.” She hadn’t shouted, knowing it would do no good. Incredibly, Billy and Scott seemed unconcerned.
“I don’t understand what’s going on. Where’s Foster? We have to find him. He could be hurt.”
“He’s fine.”
“How do you know, Billy? Where is he?”
The wolf moved closer to her men. They acted as though it were no more dangerous than a pet dog.
“He’s right here.”
The world spun out of control again. What she saw couldn’t be true. She had to have hit her head when Foster had shoved her out of the way.
The wolf started changing. Fur disappeared, replaced with skin. The tail vanished as its body grew longer, not smaller, only different. The wolf moaned, the pitiful noise morphing, sounding more human-like. She stared as the wolf became a man. The wolf had turned into Foster.
“This can’t be real.”
“This isn’t the way we wanted to tell you.” Scott paced over to her.
She couldn’t take her eyes off Foster. He stood, stretching his long arms and rolling his shoulders. Did it hurt to change? Were the cracking noises part of it?
Stepping back, she darted her gaze between them. “Tell me what? That Foster can change into an animal?” A wild laughter rose in her throat but never escaped.
“Yes. And that Billy and I can change into wolves, too.”
“What?” She took another step backward. “I don’t understand.” But she did. At least, in the sense that she’d seen movies and television shows about werewolves. Still, those were entertainment, not real life.
“We’re shifters.” Foster, looking as wonderful as he always did, moved toward her. “We’re werewolves. Men who can change in to wolves.”
She shook her head, denying the truth his words held. “That’s crazy. You’re crazy.”
“It’s true, baby, but you don’t need to be afraid of us. We wouldn’t hurt you. Not as men or as wolves.”
Foster wasn’t the only insane one. As they came at her, side-by-side, she knew they believed what they said. “You’re all crazy. Men can’t turn into animals.”
“You just saw me change.” Foster offered her a weak smile. “Or at least from a wolf into a man. Don’t you believe your own eyes?”
She was the one who’d lost her mind. That had to be it. “No.”
“You’ve seen our eyes and wondered how they change color.” Scott’s tone was as pleading and soothing as Foster’s. “The amber color? That’s because of our wolves. The more amber in our eyes, the closer we are to changing.”
Betsy couldn’t take any more. She couldn’t think. Rational thought had left her at the first sight of Foster coming back from his wolf form. “No,” she whispered.
“Take it easy, honey.”
She stared at Billy and saw the amber in his eyes. Letting out a small cry, she pivoted and ran. Fear clutched at her heart, propelling her forward. She didn’t get very far. Instead, they caught up to her before she could make it to the pickup.
Scott and Billy each took an arm and lifted her off her feet. Fighting against them wouldn’t do any good. They were too strong.
“Turn me loose!”
They plopped her down with her back to the side of the pickup. She tried to run again, but they hemmed her in.
What could she do? Where could she run? She glanced around, trying to think, trying to deny what was happening, yet hurting at the thought of leaving them for any reason.
“Will you calm the hell down? We’re not going to hurt you. You know we won’t.”
She stared into Foster’s eyes and saw the amber flecks. Swallowing, she tried to fight her fear. “Do I? I sure didn’t know what you are.”
Billy slammed her back, his hand around her wrist as Scott held her other arm. “But you should know who we are. Hell, we’re the men who love you. We’re the same guys you had sex with in the cave. And we’re the same guys who would do anything for you.” He paused, his jaw working. “Including letting you go.”
“Then let me go.” She sucked in a breath, determined to fight until she couldn’t suck in another breath ever again.
“If we do, will you listen to us?” asked Foster. “Will you give us a chance?”
“Like you gave me a chance to decide if I wanted to be with men who can change into animals?” Putting every bit of her anger into it, she glared at them one by one.
“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner.” Foster stepped back. “But, fuck it, Betsy, we were afraid.”
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Of losing you. Of you thinking we weren’t good enough for you.”
Good enough for her? She’d been the one to worry that she wasn’t good enough, pretty, or skinny enough for them. He couldn’t have said anything else that would’ve made her stay. “Tell me.”
Foster waved his hands at Scott and Billy. “Turn her loose. If she runs off without letting us explain, then maybe she wasn’t the right one for us.”
He was taunting her now. Pushing her to do what he wanted her to do. She jerked free of their hold and crossed her arms. Hopefully, they’d understand her determination. Plus, crossing her arms helped calm the shudders racking her. “I�
�m listening.”
“It’s like we said,” began Foster. “We’re werewolves. Men who can change into wolves.”
If she hadn’t seen it, she wouldn’t have believed him. “All three of you?” Not just one but all of the men she loved were werewolves. Each breath became harder to take in.
“Yeah. All three of us.”
She searched Scott’s and Billy’s faces, but it seemed they were more than willing to let Foster do all the explaining. “How? Werewolves don’t exist. At least, I didn’t think they did.”
“Werewolves have existed for as long as man has.”
“Are there more of you?” Suddenly, she felt as though amber eyes watched from the trees.
“There are a lot of us around these parts. More around the world.” He tunneled his hands through his hair. “Most of the people in Fate are shifters of one kind or another.”
Just when she thought she’d gotten a handle on the insanity, he sent her over the edge again. “Of one kind or another?”
“Darlin’, just like there are different kinds of people in this world, there are different kinds of shifters. Some people change into wolves like us. Others change into cats, bears, and almost every kind of animal in the world.”
Billy cleared his throat. “Where do you think that tiger came from? We don’t have any zoos in the area.”
She hadn’t had time to wonder. “He was a shifter, too? There are people who can turn into white tigers?”
“Like I said, shifters can turn into a lot of different animals. But he’s not from around these parts.” Foster glanced back at the mutilated deer. “He’s a rogue that’s been killing livestock. He’s not using them as food. It’s all about the sport of it for him.”
“Would he have killed you?” She couldn’t bear the idea of losing Foster. Or Billy or Scott. But did she want them enough to accept what they were?
“He would’ve killed all of us. Including you.”
She took another look around but didn’t see anything. “What do we do now?”
“About what?”
“About us.” Did she want to forget them? If she did, she’d have to forget about staying in Fate. But giving up her friends and her new store would be nothing compared to giving them up.
“If you decide to stay, you’ll be our woman, our mate. You have the choice to either stay human or, if you want, we can change you into a werewolf like us.”
“How? By biting me?”
“Most of the mythology surrounding werewolves is a load of shit, but that part’s true enough.” Foster took a step closer. “We’re part of a pack called the Shadow Ridge Pack. Scott and I are primary alphas and Billy’s”—a small smile lifted his lips just barely—“not.”
“It’s a minor problem I’ll fix soon enough.” Billy shot a sneer at Foster.
“This is a lot to wrap my head around.” She felt weak, and yet, surprising even herself, she wasn’t afraid any longer. What Foster had said was true. They were still the men she loved.
“What about a family? Is the pack your family?”
“Are you asking if we want kids? Yeah, we do.” Scott leaned against the pickup. “We want everything most people want. A mate, a family, friends. The whole American dream.”
“But not just to have you barefoot in the kitchen and stuck at home,” added Billy.
“I think I understand. At least as much as I can right now.” But would she ever really understand what it was like to be a werewolf? Could she be their woman without changing?
“You’ll become part of the pack even if you don’t decide to change. But as a female werewolf mated to a primary alpha, you’ll have more power, more control over what you and the pack do.”
All at once, she couldn’t take any more explanations. What she’d heard so far was more than she thought she could handle. “Please. I can’t take any more.” Exhaustion, both mental and physical, swamped her. “I need to go home.”
“To your home?” asked Billy.
The hope on their faces was painful to see, but she wasn’t ready to give them what they wanted. “Yes. My home.”
* * * *
Betsy stared at the television but wasn’t really watching the show. Since the men had brought her home the day before, she’d left the shop in the hands of Brittany and Sara with Babs still checking in with them. It was a risk for her to take and an imposition to ask Babs to keep helping out, but she hadn’t known what else to do. She couldn’t concentrate on anything other than what she’d learned.
The men she loved—because she didn’t have any doubt that she did love them—were monsters. Or at least, monsters were what most people would think they were. But most people didn’t know them. Foster with his calm resolve, his steadfast loyalty, and confident ways. Scott, the buffer between Foster’s coolness and Billy’s wild nature. And Billy, even with his old-fashioned ways, was coming around to understanding that she wanted more than being a mother and a wife.
Mate. Would she ever get used to being called mate? She’d been called so many things in her life—fat, ugly, whale—but she’d never dreamed she’d be called mate.
She didn’t fear them. In fact, she trusted them with her life. But what kind of a life would it be?
I can become a werewolf.
But did she want to? Did she want to have something deep inside her, an animal presence that would push her to twist her body, crack her bones, and become a wild beast? Did she want to be part of their pack?
She glimpsed herself in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Would she be a brown wolf? A pretty wolf? A fat wolf? She pulled back her lips, exposing her teeth, and growled. Although she’d thought it would be funny, the sight thrilled her.
Maybe being able to change into a wolf would be great. She’d be strong and fast. She could run over the land without a care in the world. Unless, of course, a hunter was around. Did hunters shoot wolves? Or did the hunters around Fate avoid them, knowing a human was inside the fur?
Too many questions went without any answers. Yet the answers to those questions weren’t important. There were only two questions that would help her make her decision.
Do I love them?
She’d asked the same question time after time. The answer always came swiftly and without reservation. Yes, she loved them. She couldn’t imagine her life without them.
The answer to the first question made the second question easier to answer. She’d answered it almost as many times as she’d asked the first question and always came up with the same answer.
If I love them, then it doesn’t matter what they are. It’s who they are that counts.
For the first time since being dropped off at her home the day before, she was ready to tell them her decision.
I could be a werewolf.
Maybe she wouldn’t change at first, and maybe she would. She’d let them help her make the final decision. Eventually, however, she’d be changed. Eventually, she’d get pregnant.
But I’m not going to end up stuck in my kitchen and barefoot. Sorry, Billy.
Clicking off the television, she hopped to her feet and rushed over to her phone lying on top of the small galley-style kitchen counter. Texting Foster, she asked them to come to her house and pick her up. If they agreed with her decision—and why wouldn’t they?—then she’d throw a few things together and ask them to take her home with them.
Her hands shook. Today would be more than wonderful. Today would be the first day of the rest of her life. A life that would be filled with three incredible men who would love her with all her many faults. Three men who loved her size, along with her personality. Three men who would give her amazing children.
Will our children be werewolves, too?
She filed the question away, along with the hundreds of other questions she planned on asking them. As she knew would happen, Foster’s text came back fast.
Close by. Be there in a sec.
She smiled. She’d already seen them driving past her house. At fir
st it had unnerved her, but Scott had called to tell her that they wanted to be close in case she made up her mind soon and in case she needed them. Texts from Billy and Foster had followed, telling her how much they needed and loved her. They’d given her as much space as they could stand.
She’d just put down her phone when she heard a thump at the front door. “Already?” They must’ve been parked outside her house.
Hurrying to the door, she threw it open without checking through the peephole first. A cold rush flowed through her when she saw him.
No. Not him. Not now.
“Hey ya, girl.”
If she’d been able to think, she might’ve kept him from barging inside. He staggered to the couch and plopped down. Blood covered the hand he held to his side, and his face was ashen.
“Get out of my house.” The order came out as a whisper.
The sneer she’d grown used to during her childhood was as awful as she remembered it. “Now is that any way to greet your dear old dad?”
“Get out.” Her voice had grown stronger. She wasn’t the timid, browbeaten little girl he’d verbally abused. She was a powerful woman who had matured into a confident woman. A woman who had the support and love of three amazing men.
She glanced toward the street. Would they get there soon?
“I came for my money.”
“Your money? You’re kidding, right? I’m not giving you one red cent.” She scoffed, loving his stunned reaction. He never would’ve thought she’d refuse him, much less mock him.
He started to get up, no doubt to intimidate her with his size as he’d done so often, but grimaced and fell back. “I need the fucking money. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you a damn thing. But if you get your ass out of here fast enough, I might let you go without calling the police.” Fate didn’t have a police force. Like most small towns, it relied on either the state patrol or the local sheriff. Drake Hardwick was the sheriff, but she wasn’t sure how to get hold of him. It had never crossed her mind to think she’d need his protection.
“Shit.” Moaning, he lay down on his side. “The least you can do is put something on my wound.”
“How’d you get hurt? Did you break into someone’s home? Rob a gas station? What is it this time?” Her father had been in a lot of scrapes with the law, but he’d always managed to stay out of jail.