Running Free (Northern Shifters)

by Jorrie Spencer

“You know, it’s a relief to know even that much.”

  “But you want to learn more. Of course you do.” She extracted herself from his lap. “I’m okay now. You made me okay.”

  She held out her hand to him, and he took it, rising.

  “Let’s go back to talk to Ri.”

  Epilogue

  “Storm’s where?” asked Zach, dumbfounded.

  “Biking,” Sally repeated, then added, “with Angus. And some other kids.”

  “Angus goes biking?” It wasn’t that Angus was stiff-necked so much as always serious and busy doing important alpha things. He couldn’t have time for Storm, surely.

  Sally’s mouth curved. “Yes, Incredulous One. Why is it strange?”

  “I don’t know.” Zach put down his chemistry book. “I’m not used to random people swooping in and entertaining Storm. It’s been him and me for quite a while.”

  “You’re making me feel like a third wheel.” There was no real heat there, so Zach lunged for her and dragged her down to the couch beside him. He forked fingers into her hair and kissed her senseless, holding her beneath him. He’d discovered she liked to be held.

  And sometimes she liked to struggle. As she started to now.

  When they broke apart, they were both panting.

  “Jancis is coming over in half an hour,” she announced.

  Zach leapt up and away from her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t want anyone walking in on them when he was this aroused. He wasn’t at all used to people dropping by.

  Sally laughed at him. “We have time.” She jumped up and dashed down the hall to the bedroom.

  Well, he had to chase her, and catch her.

  Afterwards, and it was a short while afterwards given the timeline, Sally traced a finger over his chest. “Are you going to start with the tutoring?”

  Aubrey was apparently willing and eager to help Zach get his high school diploma. “I’m just not sure we can afford it now, given I’m visiting Ri next week.”

  Again. The brothers hadn’t gone a month without seeing each other, but they had to fly to their respective provinces. Ri worked on a Manitoban farm—and incidentally Zach’s childhood home so it was comfortingly familiar—with his boyfriend. Zach was now tied to Wolf Town. He wished they were closer, but he was getting over his phone aversion on Ri’s account.

  Sally frowned at this response. “You’re changing the subject. It has nothing to do with us affording it or your visiting Ri. Aubrey gets paid by the school board, Zach. It’s his job.”

  “He gets paid to work in the school.”

  “To work with shifters and get them an education,” she corrected. “Please don’t be shy about accepting his help.”

  “I don’t like to be a burden.”

  “You’re not and you won’t be.”

  “Between Aubrey offering to tutor and Angus offering me a job, I feel like a charity case.”

  She shook her head at him. “Angus needs you to work in his business, okay? It’s not a make-work project for you. Wolf Town’s population is expanding, and we need more houses and bigger houses. Renovations need workers. You don’t have to do it forever, if you don’t like—”

  “Okay, okay.” He cut her off, because he knew all this, in his head. He had to fight the idea he was alone and accept he was part of a community now, but it didn’t always come naturally.

  “I know how you feel. I went through the same thing last year when they needed me to work in the school.”

  He rolled over so she lay beneath him. He sometimes thought this was his favorite position, their bodies entwined. He couldn’t get enough of gazing at her. “I’m glad I’ve got you to help me. It’s everyone else’s help I struggle with.”

  “You don’t just have my help, Zach, you’ve got me.”

  He kissed her.

  About the Author

  To learn more about Jorrie Spencer, please visit www.jorriespencer.com or send an email to Jorrie Spencer at jorriespencer@gmail.com.

  She also writes as Joely Skye (www.joelyskye.com).

  Look for these titles by Jorrie Spencer

  Now Available:

  Northern Shifters

  The Strength of the Pack

  The Strength of the Wolf

  Puma

  Anchor

  Haven

  Selkie Island

  The road to believing can be one wild ride.

  Running Wild

  © 2012 Joely Skye

  A Northern Shifters Book

  Seamus O’Connor thought his friendship with Zachariah Smithson was just that—a relationship born on one horrific night seven years ago. He never thought he’d end up inheriting the old man’s farm.

  Tons of chores and hard work are nothing new for Seamus. The farm comes equipped with all he needs—and something he didn’t expect. Unsettling, late-night visits from Zachariah’s grandson Ri, a man who appears and disappears like a ghost.

  Ri has had little contact with the outside world, with good reason. Horse shifters aren’t any human’s idea of normal. Plus, he’s wary of being the next target of the werewolves who took his twin brother. Trust his matchmaking grandfather to give him a reason to come home—Seamus.

  As Seamus gradually learns the truth of Ri’s life, their relationship tentatively grows—and danger grows closer. For it was Ri who rescued Seamus on that terrible night long ago. Seamus is about to realize he’s had his own encounters with werewolves. He just doesn’t know it—yet.

  Warning, this story contains unexpected night visits, expected night visits, wild rides and growing love.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Running Wild:

  So Ri walked back out to the living room and stared down at Seamus. Mostly he was hidden in darkness, but a sliver of moonlight through the kitchen allowed Ri to see his dark brown hair and freckled face.

  A strange emotion turned over in Ri’s chest then, something he couldn’t quite identify, but he was glad he had saved Seamus’s younger self all those years ago.

  He was trying not to think of the earlier conversation Seamus had had with his horse, specifically his mention of a boyfriend. It set something going within him that he found rather alarming.

  “Jesus!” Seamus shot up to sitting while Ri startled back, and they stared at each other in the dark, a just-woken Seamus peering blindly while Ri could see the man’s outline. “Would you stop doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Looming over me while I sleep. It’s creepy. I do not need you stalking me for Christ’s sake, so cut it out.”

  “Oh.” Ri bit his lip, uncomfortable. “Should I wake you up next time?”

  “Yes. Even better, visit during the fucking day and knock on the door.”

  Ri preferred shifting at night, and he didn’t like to stay human long, but he found himself saying, “Okay.” Then added, “I apologize.”

  Seamus jerked himself up to standing, still angry, and Ri backed up. Then Seamus stopped moving, and his voice softened. “I’m going to turn on the light, alright? I can barely see you.”

  “Okay.” Ri hated when Seamus turned on the light, preferred shadows where he wasn’t properly seen or recognized by humans. That was all too late anyway. After two visits, it wasn’t like his face could be scrubbed from Seamus’s memory.

  As they blinked at each other in the sudden light, Seamus ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. His arm was thick, almost bulky, and quite a different shape than Ri’s, and for a moment, the play of skin over muscle mesmerized Ri. He brought his gaze to meet Seamus’s, to find those gray eyes amused.

  That was a relief, better than pissed off.

  Seamus’s mouth quirked. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  Crossing his arms, Ri puzzled over the meaning of it and gave up. “We do?”

  That charming quirk disappeared. Seamus rubbed his neck. “What I mean is, you need to stop arriving like this.”

  Ri’s heart sank. He supposed he’d held out more
hope for Seamus than he’d acknowledged to himself. He’d always told himself and his grandfather that the idea of befriending Seamus was a dream. That he couldn’t declare himself to a human. But he’d been toying with some kind of friendship here, and Seamus didn’t want that.

  Seamus sighed. “Alright. I don’t know what is going on with you, but I am making coffee. Want some?”

  “Before I go?”

  Seamus set his hands on his hips and looked up at Ri through his eyelashes. Ri couldn’t interpret that look, but it made his heart beat faster.

  “I was hoping to come back,” he blurted out. There was a clutch in his voice, he heard it, and the loneliness that he kept so well contained was suddenly straining to get out. He held still, his own words having startled him.

  “You were, eh?” Seamus eyed him, like a specimen perhaps.

  Ri didn’t know what to make of it, but he nodded.

  “Why?”

  He might not be the most socially adept person who ever walked the earth, but even Ri knew this answer was make or break, and he didn’t know what to say.

  “Something is going on with you,” Seamus said quietly. “Isn’t there?”

  Ri froze. It was that or bolt.

  “Is someone after you, Ri?”

  It was painful, but he just couldn’t speak. If he started saying anything, his whole story would come tumbling out, and either Seamus would think he was crazy or Seamus would have something to hold over him when Ri wasn’t ready to cede that power to him.

  At his non-response, Seamus scratched his cheek. “Listen. Two things. Don’t bring your trouble to me. And knock on the bloody door instead of walking through walls. Okay?”

  Ri nodded.

  “You can speak, you know.”

  “I know.” Ri attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite work.

  “Oh, one more thing. I’m gay. If you have a problem with that, you should leave.”

  A shortness of breath assailed Ri, though Seamus had already given his horse this information. This is not a come-on, Ri chided himself. Not that he’d know what to do with a come-on.

  “Ri.” It was a warning. Seamus thought Ri was reacting badly to his being gay. Words were needed.

  “No problem,” Ri managed, abruptly understanding why Grandfather had pushed so hard for this friendship. Well-meaning but naïve. As if being gay was all Ri needed to trust someone.

  Seamus’s gaze was steady on his, but not unkind. His next words proved him to be more observant than Ri had thought.

  “Ah. You’re not out, are you?”

  Ri looked down and away. All he could think was, If you only knew.

  The strongest net is no match for destiny.

  A Cast of Shadows

  © 2013 Hailey Edwards

  An Araneae Nation Story

  Daraja has grown up watching her brothers journey down the river on the traditional Deinopidae rite of passage. Each returned with riches from their travels, and lovers with whom to share their lives.

  Now she has reached the age where she would strike out on her own to seek her fortune—if she were male. Instead, she is expected to sit patiently, weave her nets and wait for the river to bring a husband to her.

  Patience, however, has never been her strong suit.

  Brynmor haunts the forest surrounding the city of Cathis, his disembodied spirit inextricably bound to the wild canis roaming his lands. Until the day he stumbles across a brazen trespasser in his woods.

  Compelled to step in when the canis suspect her of poaching one of their own, Brynmor fears he has lost a piece of his ragged soul to the feisty, adventure-seeking female. And when the canis confront the real poachers, he is forced to choose which life to sacrifice. Hers…or his own.

  Warning: This book contains one heroine with a knack for weaving nets and one hero who relishes getting caught. Expect singing, some howling, ghostly shenanigans, and the start of a love that transcends death.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for A Cast of Shadows:

  Forget the canis; this male was the most dangerous creature in the woods. Black eyes ringed with sadness, dark hair tousled by his hands. His thin lips pressed tight as if guarding a mouthful of secrets. Before we ventured any farther, I was determined to pry at least one secret from him.

  I used my grip on his hand to keep him still. “What is your name?”

  He didn’t answer, but he did begin toeing the rocks at his feet.

  “I won’t give you time to think of a lie.” I warned, “Tell me your name or I will leave.”

  He glanced up slowly, seeming to have made a decision. “My name is Brynmor.”

  “That sounds familiar.” I thought it over. “Wasn’t that the name of a Mimetidae paladin?”

  “It was, once.” He used our joined hands and led me to the basin. He climbed in first.

  I braced on his shoulders to avoid slipping on mossy stones. “You were named after him?”

  “Not exactly.” He grasped my hips and lifted me over the ledge.

  My toes curled when they touched the calf-deep water. “It’s cold.”

  I caught him staring where my nipples beaded beneath my shirt. He said, “I can see that.”

  I gave the front of his pants a frank assessment. “Pity I can’t tell if you were affected.”

  His eyes shot open wide and his lips parted, but he didn’t utter a sound.

  “It’s all right.” I patted him on the shoulder and waded past him to hold my hand beneath the waterfall’s spray. “You aren’t the first male to suffer the ill effects of icy water on his…pride.”

  His gaze bored into my back. “I assure you, my pride has not been affected.”

  “Of course not.” I smothered my grin as I turned to face him. “Now, why are we—?”

  Brynmor’s face was inches from mine. His scowl lined his forehead and mouth. He stalked me back until I hit a stone ledge and a torrent of water soaked me from shoulder to toe. “It’s not wise to tempt a male who might see your flirtation as an invitation for more.” He bent down, and his soft lips feathered across my cheek. “Do you want more, Daraja?” He fit his hips to mine, and I gasped at the hard ridge of flesh he pressed against me. “I didn’t think so. Come on.”

  He left me panting against the falls, asking myself, What in the gods’ names was I thinking?

  Never one to shy away from who or what I wanted, when had I decided I wanted him?

  One day my penchant for rebellion would land me in an early grave. How often had Father said so? If I wasn’t careful, the desire to explore the tingles burning my skin where Brynmor had touched me would land me in his bed. Dangerous to crave a male I had just met. No doubt that was the source of his appeal.

  Before trailing after him, I ducked my head under the falls and prayed the rushing water would beat some sense into me. Let him think that was why my cheeks were flushed and I was breathless.

  While shaking the water from my hair, I heard soft laughter and spotted him watching me.

  Fresh heat burned in my cheeks.

  “Are you ready now or should I make myself comfortable?” he asked.

  “I’m ready.” I straightened my shoulders. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

  “There is only one way out of Cathis, unless you go over or under the walls.” He stared into the forest. “The Mimetidae keep their prisoners in a grotto beneath the city. There’s a tunnel used for transportation and…private liaisons…near here.” He grinned at my surprise. “What’s another secret between friends? Besides you don’t strike me as the type to go about liberating prisoners.”

  I shook my head. “My clan has plenty without me borrowing more from the Mimetidae.”

  “Most clans do,” he agreed, bending to examine a pile of smooth stones.

  Leaning over his shoulder, I asked, “Do you find stones so interesting?”

  Amusement deepened his voice. “Not so much the stones as what they conceal.”

  Ah. Our outing began to make more se
nse. “You have a cache hidden here.”

  “I do.” He shook out his arms. “Give me room.”

  “Why?” I backed up a step. “What are you doing?”

  “Must you question everything?” He sounded as if he didn’t mind my curiosity.

  So I said, “Yes.”

  I believe he muttered about the inquisitiveness of the young or some such nonsense. If I had to guess, I bet his age was within five years of mine, so he was hardly an authority to lecture me.

  As he worked, I hovered at his shoulder. “If the grotto’s proximity mattered to you, then you must have intended your cache to be part of a contingency plan. Say the city fell, you would take the secret exit through the grotto, stop here and then raid the cache before you went into hiding.”

  He shook his head. “Only a coward leaves his city while it’s under siege.”

  “Oh?” I savored the view while he worked. “Then why have this made? Why here?”

  “The rest of your theory was sound.” He glanced up. “I did this for my family, to provide for them if I was unable to. We were poorer in those days. Their fortunes have improved since then.”

  The words fell from my lips before I could catch them. “You have family in Cathis.”

  Of course he did. What other tether could tie a male with no clan to Mimetidae land?

  “I do.” He nodded. “This cache was meant for my son…and for my wife.”

  “You have a wife.”

  “I did.” Muscles in Brynmor’s neck twitched.

  “I shouldn’t have asked.” It was none of my business, even after… No. It didn’t matter.

  His thick voice carried over the frothing water. “We lived separately for years before…”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” I didn’t want to hear how his heart belonged to another. Or that his earlier burst of passion was the response of a male deprived from activities in his marital bed.

  “It’s not what you think,” was all he said.

  “With married males, it never is.”

  He didn’t disagree with me, but straightened with a grunt. “Here you are.”