His Wolf (Wolf of My Heart)

by Linda Palmer

  “So?”

  “So if we do this, I won’t be any better than that Yarbrough dude—just another guy using you.”

  “But I want you. Big difference.”

  He shook his head. “You just think you do. What you want is comfort, and I can give you that without the unnecessary complication of sex.”

  Unnecessary complication of sex? His message couldn’t have been clearer, and it set me off.

  “So we’re back to rain checks, huh?” With an angry huff, I got up and put on the sleep clothes I’d found earlier. I felt Erik’s gaze burning into my bare body, but never looked his way as I pulled on bikinis and my usual sweat pants and shirt.

  He waited until I was dressed before he rolled off his bed and put his shirt back on. Then he left me without a word. I heard him banging around in the kitchen almost immediately and felt bad for my sarcasm. While I should’ve been thrilled I’d finally met a male with scruples, I was nothing but frustrated, and it wasn’t because I was a sex maniac. I was actually pretty inexperienced in that department. But I was also feeling reckless, something I blamed on the past few months.

  I’d always been a girl who obeyed the rules. No crossing the street on a green for me. I also didn’t park in No Parking zones, drive over the posted speed limit, or open doors with Do Not Enter on them. I’d never given my dad any grief, either, and had actually been a hopeless homebody with an occasional boyfriend. He’d moved me into a dorm so I’d get some life experiences.

  Yet bad things had happened to me anyway.

  So playing it safe didn’t always work, and now that I knew that, I was ready to live a little. I wanted Erik to be my first experiment. Unfortunately, he wasn’t into me���at least enough to make him stray off the straight and narrow way that used to be mine, too.

  Knowing I owed him an apology, I finally headed to the kitchen where he stood putting breaded somethings in a skillet of hot oil. Chicken strips, I realized, nudging him aside with my hip so I could take over. At the grocery store, he’d told me he didn’t like cooking much, yet here he was doing it again. He gave me a sidelong glance. I gave him a smile. “Sorry.”

  “For?”

  “Attacking you. Won’t happen again.”

  That got him. “You think I don’t want to have sex with you?”

  “What else?”

  “You’re amazing, Bronte, and I want you. The only-a-cold-shower-will-help-this kind of want you. I just—”

  “Don’t intend to take advantage of me since you think I’ll probably have second thoughts once I feel better.”

  I’d never seen a guy look so relieved. “Exactly.”

  “First, that isn’t going to happen. I know who I want, and it’s you.” I held up my hand to stop the protest I glimpsed on the tip of his tongue. “Second, I’m feeling fine now. Relaxed. Happy. Safe and secure. Plus I smell like strawberries. I’m sure I’ve never been more irresistible.”

  He grinned.

  “Third, we’re definitely going to have this discussion again, but not until you’re as comfortable with the idea of us hooking up as I am. So don’t think it’s going away. It isn’t. I’m just biding my time for now.” I forked a sizzling chicken strip and turned it in the oil. “And just so you know, I’m not always like this. You’re the very first guy who’s made me want to go for it.” When I stole a peek at Erik, I saw that his eyes were brimming. I looked away to keep from getting emotional, myself. “So why don’t you go get that cold shower? I’ll finish up here.”

  Erik kissed me on the lips before he left without saying a word. Seeing that the chicken had a ways to go yet, I went to his computer to see the photos he’d been working on when he wasn’t hacking into my laptop. I found them easily enough since he had them organized by date. I picked the slideshow option and sat back to enjoy the scenery. One-by-one, exquisite shots of woodlands in winter flipped past me on the screen. I recognized most of the locations and relived the fun of tramping through the snow with Erik.

  But suddenly I saw a person in the shots. Me. Photo after photo flashed by—some of them close-ups I had no idea he’d taken. My jaw dropped. I’d never looked so sexy. My eyes sparkled; my skin glowed; my hair was a tangled mess begging to be touched.

  Yikes.

  Was that how he saw me? And he’d still resisted sex? The guy had to be a saint.

  “Something smells good.”

  I jumped. “Oh, um, yeah. Did we buy frozen fries? I thought we could have those with the chicken since we’re already… What?”

  Erik got to me in two long steps and minimized the screen shot. “Who said you could go through my photos?”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Double standard much?”

  He winced. “Okay. I deserved that. But it’s always best to ask.”

  “You don’t say.” Raising my fingers from the keys as if they were hot, I scooted the chair back and stood. “Ex-cu-use me. I’ll get back to our dinner.”

  As I took up the golden-brown tenders and set them on a paper towel to dry, I struggled not to laugh. Erik’s disconcertion was nice to see, and it served him right. I went to the freezer that was part of his fridge and dug out the Ore-Idas. The hot oil spattered as I added the frozen crinkle fries. “Dang it!”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” I wiped a couple of oil drops off my arm.

  “Did you burn yourself?” He was suddenly by my side and examining the tiny red dots—three in all and none worse than a mild sunburn.

  It wasn’t as if these types of injuries were new to me. I’d been cooking for years; this had happened dozens of times. Burns were a kitchen hazard, just as cuts were.

  “You should put something on those. Butter maybe?”

  “That’s an old wives’ remedy. Cold water is probably better, and I’m really okay. They’ve already stopped hurting.” I stirred the fries. “Will this be enough food?”

  “Yeah, unless you want a salad. We bought a bag of lettuce.”

  “Oh yeah. Got any dressing?”

  Erik’s shoulders sagged. “No.”

  I laughed. “Figures. No worries. I’ll make us some.”

  “You can do that?”

  I playfully flipped my curls with my fingers. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got skills.”

  In no time, we sat at the table eating our salads with Thousand Island dressing I’d made from ketchup, mayo, vinegar and pickle relish. After that, we had the chicken tenders and fries. I enjoyed sitting across from Erik and watching him eat. As the cook of most of the meal, I liked his enthusiasm for the food.

  He glanced up at me. “There’s a full moon tonight.”

  “Wednesday morning you mean. Officially at 2:48 a.m.” I shrugged off his questioning look. “I try to keep up with it.”

  “Which would explain the moon phase calendar on your desktop.”

  We sat around for a while to let our meal settle before we headed to our beds around 10:00. Erik secured the door and plugged in a nightlight. And though I doubted I’d be able to sleep because of my unintentional Rip Van Winkle stunt, I slid between my chilly sheets, fluffed my pillow, and tried to get comfortable. But I couldn’t relax. Freshly awakened memories of my kidnapping filled my head, no doubt because of my confession to Erik.

  I thought about the Laundromat, the lake house, and Yarbrough. Our relationship had been a strange one. After the first few terrifying weeks, I’d gotten sort of used to him, a survival tactic, I guess. I thought of POWs the world over who’d probably done what I’d done to get by—made peace with daily life in captivity.

  With the wisdom of hindsight, I naturally wondered if I could’ve emailed my father some way to let him know I was alive and possibly even where I was. Maybe. But at the time I’d truly believed a bold move like that would have resulted in our deaths. Yarbrough had me physically and mentally, and fear made me submissive.

  “Bronte?” Erik whispered in the dark. “You awake?”

  I rolled over to face him by
way of reply.

  He held out his arms to me. I threw back the covers and flew across that cold floor and straight into his warm bed.

  “This isn’t about sex,” he said. “I just won’t rest unless I know you’re safe.”

  “No one will get past that door now.”

  “Maybe not, but I still want you close enough to protect just in case they try a window, instead.”

  Likewise.

  “Besides, it’s going to be cold in here with the door shut.”

  “You got that right.” I rested my head on his shoulder and draped my arm over his body. My memories began to blur into oblivion. I finally dozed off listening to Erik breathe.

  ****

  I woke up from a dream of Yarbrough some time later. Erik’s alarm clock said 3:00 a.m. in big green letters. Assuming that was correct, I had to wonder why I felt so wide awake. Then I remembered the full moon. My senses had completely zinged into life, enabling me to see in the dark, smell the fireplace through a closed door, and hear the snuffling sounds I’d heard once before outside the window.

  Wolves again? Werewolves?

  If so, that traitorous moon had enhanced their senses, too, and that could mean trouble. If they’d doubted that a wolf lived inside this cabin before, they definitely knew it now. Realizing that Erik and I had turned on our sides during the night, I managed to lift his arm off me so I could slip from his embrace. I crept across the floor and as quietly as I could lifted the bar securing the door. It scraped a little, but Erik didn’t stir.

  On my bare toes, I slipped into the living area of the cabin. I heard sounds all around the cabin now. The muted crunch of boots on frozen snow. The sniffing of a wolf around the edges of the doors and windows. I also heard the wind, which blew sleet against the glass panes.

  The full moon, though now hidden by storm clouds, was still working its magic. I shivered and glanced at the fireplace, our sole heat source. Though Erik piled on extra logs every night and stoked the flames, they always died to little more than glowing embers by morning, which explained the goose bumps dancing up my arms.

  Or did it?

  Fear had made me shivery before. My nose told me that two Weres and a werewolf were checking out Erik’s cabin. When they smelled me, they’d definitely come in. Should I lock myself in the bedroom with Erik? Should I shift? And if I did, would one she-wolf really have a chance against three enemies in any form?

  “Bite me.”

  I gasped and whirled around to find Erik up close and personal.

  He put his mouth to my ear. “The moon is full now. I’ll shift immediately. We escape together.”

  His plan had so many flaws I honestly didn’t know how to respond.

  “Come on. It’s either that, or we wait from them to pick us off in the bedroom. Shifting is the smartest solution, and you know it.”

  “You can’t make a decision like this in a rush. You haven’t even considered ramifications.” My voice was a soft hiss in the dark.

  “We’ll deal with that later. It’s now or never, Bronte. Now or never.”

  Thud. Thump. Thud. Hard boots on a wooden porch floor, and they weren’t stealthy.

  Someone rattled the window, no doubt trying to raise it. The door was next. The modern knob turned. It didn’t open, but the wanna-be intruders weren’t deterred. I heard the sound of someone lunging against it. Once. Twice. Would it give?

  So many thoughts flashed through my head. Did they have weapons? Guns or knives that could kill no matter what form we took? Suddenly I knew Erik was right. It was now or never. Grabbing his hand, I as good as dragged him into the bedroom and dropped the board into its slots. “We’ll shift and escape through the window.”

  As I began stripping out of my clothing, he quietly raised the window. We heard the sound of breaking glass. Erik tossed his clothing. With both of us naked, I threw my arms around him. Our lips met in one last, desperate kiss before I pulled away and stood straight, drawing in a deep breath and closing my eyes to block every external distraction. I focused on the wolf inside me and felt the change immediately—a warm tingle that began at my heart and spread throughout my body. In seconds, white hot energy consumed me, and I shifted into a silver she-wolf.

  Erik staggered back, eyes wide. Was he scared? Had he changed his mind?

  “Do it,” he said as if reading my doubt. He held out his arm.

  I clamped my fangs on it.

  Chapter Ten

  Erik sucked in a shocked breath. I released him, and he staggered back, holding his bleeding arm. For a nanosecond our gazes clashed. Then he sort of hugged himself and bent over, groaning.

  I wanted to yell, “Don’t fight it!”

  Of course I couldn’t, and unlike certain movies, we didn’t share each other’s thoughts. So I helplessly watched as he transformed into a gorgeous brown wolf, a process that took four minutes, tops, but would rock his world forever. Oh, how I wanted to help him. I remembered my first shift, so painful and traumatic because I wasn’t expecting it. I’d suffered alone because no one cared. Erik was different. I loved him and wished so much that I could’ve ensured him a better experience.

  Loved him?

  I suppressed that random thought for later consideration. Right now I had other problems to deal with. It would take a bit for Erik to get the feel of his wolf self and be comfortable in his fur. As for his shifting back, that would be difficult, too, but for another reason. Though he’d actually be capable of doing it quickly, thanks to the full moon, it wouldn’t go down that way. Shifting into a human was trickier, not so automatic, not so natural. The wolf inside would resist, and he’d have to figure out how to do it just as I once had. Luckily, I’d be around to offer guidance and support.

  If no one killed me, that is. What if they did? And what if Erik died, too?

  My she-wolf stomach knotted with fear—my girl emotions breaking through, I guess. More than anything, I didn’t want Erik’s life to end because I’d stupidly exposed him to the preter world. It had been an accident—the exposing part anyway—but getting him to release me from the trap had been a deliberate action that had worked all too well.

  I glanced at Erik-wolf and realized he was now walking a little better. He seemed to be getting his wolf legs, which meant he’d soon be ready to jump out that window with me. I didn’t know where we’d go. I did know the werewolves tracking us would never give up. Could we have any kind of life together if the enemy stalked us?

  Yeah, they just wanted the laptop. At least I thought they did. I actually wasn’t that sure. But even if that’s all they were after, they could hardly leave me, the girl who’d entered all that incriminating evidence, alive. It wasn’t the way of The Arm to show mercy.

  Suddenly I knew what I had to do to save Erik. I quickly focused on the Bronte inside. Once again that white hot energy pulsed through my veins. I began to morph. When human again, I flicked a glance at Erik, who was still caught up in the miracle of his transformation and paying no attention to me.

  I scooped up my clothes from the floor, lifted the bar, and slipped into the hallway, where I pulled the door shut behind me. I was counting on Erik-wolf remaining in that form for a while and knew he wouldn’t be able to turn the knob. He could always jump out the window, of course, and run to the front door. But I sincerely hoped he’d have enough sense not to do that.

  I hastily pulled on my clothes. Then I squared my shoulders and walked into the living room. Flicking on the overhead light, I saw a pane of the window had been broken, allowing someone to raise it and get in—a guy with bushy red hair, who was now opening the door. He whirled as I shouted. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

  A couple more guys burst into the cabin. I saw that two of the invaders—the redhead and a man with stringy blond hair—were dressed for the weather, as in heavy jackets and knit caps. The third, a brunette with a buzz cut, wore only sweats and a T-shirt, which probably meant he’d recently shifted from a wolf into a human, just as I had. They al
l held guns. I almost threw up in my mouth.

  “Hello, Bronte,” said Red. “I think you know who we are and why we’re here.”

  “You’re part of The Arm?”

  He smirked and nodded. “So you were expecting us. Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “Asleep. There’s no need to involve him in preter business. He doesn’t know anything about it.”

  He stepped closer. “Did you honestly think you’d get away with this?”

  Deep breath, Bronte. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must know the Corteggio busted up the Houston pack. That means The Arm is over. Done.”

  They exchanged glances that said they’d fully expected me to play dumb. The guy with dirty-blond hair spoke up. “The Arm will always survive, baby. Now we want the pack funds you stole.”

  “There is no pack.”

  Buzz Cut snarled. “Not in Houston, maybe. But other packs in Texas are still going strong because they’re run by men instead of cubs.”

  “So?”

  “Yarbrough was Southeast Regional Master, which means he had access to every pack’s money. We’ve just found out that the bastard has been embezzling from us for years. Had accounts all over the place. You were his right-hand gal, which means you’ve got them now. Why else would you run?”

  “Listen,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as I felt. “I ran because I’d had enough. All I took was his truck, two-thousand dollars in petty cash, and that laptop, which, I admit, does have information on some bank accounts. The truck’s totaled; I’ve spent the two grand. You can have the laptop, but it may not have what you want on it and won’t do you any good without his passwords. But I’ll sell them to you for five-thousand dollars and a promise to never bother me or my boyfriend again.”

  Blondie hooted. “I don’t think you’ve got any bargaining power, little girl.”