by Lane Whitt
His golden eyes narrow at me, and his growl is low, challenging me. My excitement builds, anticipating his next move. His lean muscles bunch together as he prepares to pounce, but I manage to leap out of the way, accidentally landing on Tristan, before I take off into the trees. I sense him behind me, and I run faster, pushing myself to see how fast I can go. I tire myself out quickly and pant through my mouth as I look behind me, confused when I notice Jace is nowhere around. Where did he go? He was right behind me a minute ago.
I’m just starting to get worried when I’m tackled from behind. Jace’s rich musk fills my nose, and I chew on his ear for worrying me. He nuzzles my neck in apology, and I feel like something is missing. He licks under my chin, and I raise my head to give him better access, my eyes closing. It doesn’t feel like kissing exactly, but my mind provides me with one word; affection. Jace stands after a while and jerks his head in the direction of the house. I stand up with him, and we walk side by side, taking a leisurely stroll around a small clearing, beams of sunlight pouring through the tall trees, giving it a magical quality. I stroll out into the middle, jumping from one spot of light to the next. I look back to Jace, silently asking him if he wants to play my new game.
The air seems to shift as my eyes meet his. They’ve gone darker, showing an emotion that I now know the name of; love. And mixed in with the love I see there, is wanting. I’m sure my own eyes reflect the same back at him as he slowly strides forward to circle me, brushing his long body along the length of mine. He pauses to lick and nuzzle some more, before he circles behind me again. I lower my head, stretching my front paws out in front of me. Jace mounts me from behind, his paws digging into my fur at my hips, holding onto me.
The whole experience is entirely different from what I’ve felt before. It’s not about feeling beautiful or riding a high to the point of falling over an unseen cliff. It was more a feeling of rightness, of nature. Jace made me feel loved, cared for, but most of all, he made me feel wanted. My wolf recognized him as one of the most beautiful of my wolves, and we were both pleased to be wanted by such a visually stimulating male. We found him worthy of being our mate.
As we finished our lovemaking, he collapsed his body over mine and began licking my face in earnest. I purred my appreciation back at him. Twisting my head around, I gave him a short lick before piercing his neck with my teeth. He growled in pleasure and quickly returned the favor. Immediately, the tiny pinpricks of lightning started up, communicating our bond.
We laid in the shade for a little while longer, but Remy’s howl started up once more, this time, the other guys, and even Grandfather and Albert chimed in as well. There was no order in it, just a call to bring everyone home. Jace howled back and after a brief hesitation, I followed suit. The act was the definition of pure freedom. We ran side by side this time, and my happiness was ready to bubble out of me. I howled, long and deep and full of all the emotions I was feeling right this moment. A chorus of responding happiness and joy met my ears, and if I could have smiled right then, it may have split my face in two. Another lone howl followed, this one I recognized as my grandfather’s. My wolf took his to mean one of welcome home. And I knew that he didn’t mean it as a welcome back to the house, or the family, but as a welcome to myself, of becoming what I was always intended to be, a wolf.
When we made it back to the yard, the sun had moved and was beginning to sit low in the sky. Rem gave a swift bark that got all of our attention. He moved toward the house and we naturally followed behind him. I had thought that the guys deferred to Remy because he was bossy and was good at handling situations, but now I knew differently. Power radiated out from Remington, and something inside of me felt pulled toward him, something more than just the respect I had for him. It urged me to obey and pleased me to do so. It was more than that, but I can’t process how Remy’s power makes me feel and put it into words, or categorize it.
I watch as he shifts back into a man to open the door and strides inside. I’m not sure how to change back, so I don’t, I just walk in still in my wolf form, enjoying the clicking sound my paws make on the hardwood flooring. Remy heads to him room, but I follow Logan to the big tv living room. I jump up on the couch, pawing at a throw pillow until I get it where I want it, and bark at Kellan to join me. Finn, who had shifted to human form, laughed.
“Bad girl! Down!” He shouted playfully, snapping his fingers at me. I snorted at him, remembering when I had mistaken him for a dog and had done the exact same thing to him. Ash, who had no idea it was a joke, snapped his teeth at Finn and jumped on the couch too, laying his big body over mine protectively. Finn rolled his eyes and stroked my head once before leaving to change. Ash took advantage of being left alone with me and licked down my nose, cuddling with me.
Tristan
Watching Kitten as she comes into her wolf has to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed. Not only because her snowy coat is beauty personified, but because she’s so damn good at it. Her wolf form is like second nature to her, genetics obviously playing a role here. When I was first turned, it took me almost a week to control my shifts and learn to even walk as a wolf.
The best part of it all is that she eats plenty now, on her own. She’s gotten better at eating the meals the other guys and I make for her, but most of her meals now come from her own hunting. After her yoga, lessons and evening activities, I take her out in the woods and we hunt for her meals. Sometimes we bring back some leftovers for the guys, sometimes they come with us, but we always let Kitten get the catch. She’s very skilled, surprisingly so. It’s actually quite the turn on to watch her stalk her prey. It’s also worth noting that she has no trouble sharing her kills, but she still hoards chocolate like they’ll never make any again. A fact I find hilarious. Especially when one of my brothers forgets and kicked in the shin for his candy theft. I too have a sweet spot for sweet treats, but I’m smart enough not to tell her they’re hers, that way she shares them with me freely.
“Can we get these?” Kitten asks, carrying a jar of pickles big enough to feed an army…or an Ash.
I double over in laughter at the sight, the grocery cart bumping into the canned goods on accident. “Oh my god, I have to ask, is that the first jar you saw or did you hunt for the economy size aisle?”
She pouts her plump bottom lip out at me. “So that’s a yes?” She asks as she adjusts the giant jar in her arms.
“You can get that if you want it, but we’re moving soon, so I don’t think you’ll have enough time to eat all of those.”
“Yes!” She mutters under her breath and bangs the jar down in the cart as she practically drops it. “Oh, and we have to get Logan Lucky Charms, he made me promise before we left.”
I roll my eyes and push the cart toward the dairy section. Kitten had said she would push it, but she kept wandering off, leaving the cart to walk around and grab things, her arms overflowing, then bringing them back to the cart. It was painful to watch.
“No, that bastard isn’t getting any more Lucky Charms. He doesn’t even eat cereal; he just picks the marshmallows out. There’s a shelf in the pantry dedicated to his discarded boxes of marshmallow-less cereal.”
“Really? Hmm, then let’s get a bunch of boxes.” She says excitedly, nearly bouncing.
“Why?” I ask in amusement.
“So I can make him a whole box of just marshmallows.” She states like that’s entirely rational and the only conclusion to such a question.
I sigh, wondering if I should have gotten another cart. “Fine, but only because you’re cute, not that he deserves them. And I’ll get some real marshmallows so I can turn all this unused cereal into some breakfast bars.”
“Yay! Ooh and if we get some honey and granola, we can make bars for Reed as well.” Kitten chirps, disappearing around the corner to the cereal aisle. She comes back with her arms full again. I hope one of these days she learns that’s what the cart is for.
“Look at you, making more work for me.” I t
ease.
“I’ll help you.” She offers. “I love watching you cook and move around the kitchen.” Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, but she holds my eyes. Damn, she’s sexy.
I grab a couple gallons of milk and look over the cart, checking if I’ve forgotten anything. Damn, I passed Maksim’s Nutella earlier, and now I have to go back for it. Who knew the old Russian would be completely obsessed with the stuff.
In the kitchen, Kitten helps put away groceries with me, though I mostly hand her frozen or refrigerated items due to her choice of making the giant pickle jar a centerpiece on the island table. I have a feeling that thing will be the bane of my existence until the move. Not that I would ever deprive her of easy access to the food she wants to eat. That girl is still too thin in my opinion. She’ll always be gorgeous, but I’ll feel better after she puts on a few pounds and gets a little rounder. She’s eating healthier now, but it’s been slow to show on her thin frame.
“Hey Tristan, do we have any more of those brownies you made last night?” Jace asks as he walks in. A grin forms on my face, yes, those brownies were a hit last night, even Reed the carb-counter had a handful of them.
“If we do they’ll be in the fridge, or maybe Remy froze one for his ice cream.” I shrug.
“This brownie?” Kitten ask, swinging her short legs as she perches on the counter.
“Yes, those. Are they in the icebox or the refrigerator?” He asks.
“This is the last one.” She tells him with an evil smile.
Jace’s eyes widen. “No, the last one?” He says, disappointed. “Can I have half?”
“No.” Kitten replies, taking a bite of the brownie.
Jace tilts his chin up, affronted. “Now that’s not very fair of you.”
“Who said I was fair?” Kitten mumbles through her bite.
“I could take that from you if I wanted to, you do realize this.” He responds haughtily.
I lean back against the stove, groceries forgotten, to watch the show. These two are always going at it. If Jace wasn’t so easy to rile up, I don’t think Kitten would be so combative with him. As it is, he makes it too much fun for her, and she can’t resist. If I didn’t know any better, I’d blame it on sexual tension, but I know for a fact that they go at that often enough that it shouldn’t be a factor.
“You want it, come get it…Little Jace.” Shit, she just threw down the gauntlet.
Jace splutters for a comeback as he leaps after her, but she’s quick to hop off the counter and make a run for it. Too bad for him that she’s a quick learner and realized early on in their shenanigans that she can’t out run any of us, but her small body can out maneuver with the best of them. Her best move is leading him around in a circle like she does now around my kitchen island.
I laugh at the two of them, silently putting my money on Kitten for the win, but outwardly encouraging my brother, showing solidarity.
Kitten pauses in her giggling to taunt at him. “I guess you don’t want it badly enough.” She calls, sticking her tongue out before bursting into laughter again.
Jace hops over the counter, taking a surprised Kitten down with him to the floor. She shoves the last of the brownie in her mouth whole, choking it down as he tickles her mercilessly.
“Why you little Brat!” He shouts in humor.
She is barely breathing as he relentlessly goes for the ribs, her ultimate weakness. “Do you give?” He pauses as he waits for an answer.
“Never!”
He continues to tickle her as Logan walks in, opening a new box of his cereal and leaning next to me. “What was it over this time?” He asks idly as he munches away, dropping more food than gets in his mouth.
“The brownies from last night,” I tell him. Kitten lets out a snort-giggle combo, and Jace pauses to laugh at her. She reaches up quickly and messes up his perfectly styled hair, resulting in more tickling.
“Oh man, those were awesome!” Logan tells me. “Did you get milk?” I nod, and he steps around the two crazy people to get to the fridge. “You mean these brownies?” He says as he holds up the Saran-wrapped plate with at least a half-dozen brownies left on it.
“Yep.” I chuckle. Damn, my Sweet girl can be devilish when she wants to be.
“What! Oh, now you’re really going to get it.” Jace warns the hysterical girl.
Ash saunters into the room, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl before plucking Jace off the floor with his free hand. “No, she’s not. The brownies are over there, and she needs oxygen to live.” He gives him a light shove toward Logan, who stands in front of the open refrigerator door even though he has his cereal in one hand a brownie in the other.
“You were looking for milk,” I call out helpfully.
“Oh, right.” Logan tucks the box under his arm before reaching for the milk. He has to bend over, so naturally, the open box spills all over the place on his trip down. He doesn’t even notice.
Ash reaches down and helps Kitten to her feet. “Why do you always have to pick at him?” He asks her.
She smiles up at the big guy, her face flushed and her hair wild. “Because it’s fun, and because I always win.”
“You do not!” Jace huffs indignantly.
“Don’t even start this again.” Ash sighs at Jace.
“Me? I didn’t start it; she started it.” He points out.
Logan laughs as he starts putting Lucky Charm marshmallows on top of the brownie. “Oh my god! What are you, five?” He teases.
“The things I deal with.” Jace mutters, finally getting one of the brownies he came in here for in the first place.
Remy pauses at the doorway. “And just what the hell is going on in here?” He questions with a raised brow at the room.
“Nothing!” They chorus, the four of them suddenly finding better places to be.
He steps over the coffee machine, making himself a fresh pot to refill his mug. “So who won?” He asks with a smirk.
I shake my head in amusement as I go back to the task of putting away food items. “Definitely not whoever is on cleaning duty today.” I joke.
Each of us takes a look around the messy kitchen, our eyes meet, and we share an evil grin before shouting at the same time.
“Reed!”
Kitten helped me make dinner, a simple chicken dish which consisted of wood-fire grilled chicken breast topped with sautéed mushrooms, crisp bacon, melted Monterey Jack and Cheddar cheeses, with a honey mustard sauce served with fries’ julienne.
She has no cooking skills to speak of, but she seemed eager to learn, and she helped with what she could. Every now and again I’d catch her staring at me, watching what I was doing, and I have to admit that helped the ego quite a bit. She was especially interested in learning how to make the cheesecake with a strawberry glaze and topped with fresh strawberries.
I may, or may not have fudged a few pieces of information on that topic when she wasn’t paying attention. Don’t judge me, keep a woman coming to you for baked goods and you’ve got her for life.
Dinner was a fun affair, with good conversation and laughter and a dash of wine, just as it should be. Throughout desert, I took a moment to sit back and notice how much things have changed since Kitten came into our lives. Not only do two new people sit at our table, people I’d be proud to call friends, but the light of my life, my reason to breathe, sits near the middle, engaging with each of my brothers, making them laugh, telling them stories, giving them looks that make their eyes ignite with life. I don’t share a table with perfect people, because none of are, but I share my table with my family and to me, right now, this is perfection. And it’s all thanks to one tiny woman, who has stolen my heart and given me back so much more.
As the guys drift off to do their thing, and Maksim retires for the night, I take Kitten’s hand in mine, bringing our joined hands up for a kiss. “Will you join me for bed tonight, Sweetie?” I ask her.
She smiles at me, nodding her head in that way Kitten does. I scoot her cha
ir back for her and leave the dishes to Reed tonight. I need some Kitten time, and I could care less if he leaves the mess for tomorrow.
I let Kitten get showered in my bathroom and take my own in the shared one in the hall. Drying my hair with a fluffy white towel, I peruse the closet in search of something to wear for bed. I choose a pair of silky basketball shorts, knowing Kitten likes the feel of them. I take a seat on the bed as I wait for the slowpoke. The bathroom door opens, and I’m ready to greet her with a smile. However, she opens the door so hard it slams against the wall behind it. I stand and take a few steps toward her, thinking something is wrong.
Kitten steps out of the bathroom, her face on fire in embarrassment, looking as sexy as ever. She’s too innocent to realize that a white tank top and a wet body produces a lovely see-through effect. And I’m never going to point it out to her, either. Her matching white short-shorts are cute, but she’s paired them with red panties, and the sight makes my own shorts a little tighter.
“Sorry, I tripped.” She explains.
I don’t believe her for a second, but I let her get away with it, now more curious than ever why she slammed the door open. The incident is quickly forgotten though as my roaming eyes finally make their way to hers and my smile turns into a knowing smirk at the heat I see there. Kitten inhales deeply, and I swear her eyes light up like Christmas lights. “Come here, Sweetie.”
Her sexy bare feet shuffle forward until she’s standing right in front of me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was checking me out. Her pink tongue flicks out, licking her upper lip and I hold in a moan.
“You smell so good.” She says breathlessly. Thank the lord I showered. Her chest heaves and my eyes focus on the swell of her breasts; her warm breath fans my chest, and it’s a struggle not to think very naughty thoughts.