“Stay here,” he ordered in a voice she barely recognized. He sped away with lupine grace into the forest.
Stay? Dara snorted. He talked to her as if she was a dog. It was the capper to a perfectly inexplicable day. “Arf, arf!” she responded to his absence. Maybe she was the crazy one. Dara gathered her thoughts and tested her bonds. The ropes were well-tied, secure but comfortable. She lay down, inhaling the blanket that smelled like Zack. It soothed her fears. How she could be soothed by the smell of her abductee in circumstances best described as insane, she had no idea, but it was true. She snuggled into the blankets with a laugh that only sounded a little hysterical to her own ears.
A wolf howled in the forest. Dara shivered. Did she dare believe Zack might help her become a werewolf like him? He really was a wolf. She’d seen him change right before her eyes.
She shivered again.
Her shivers increased until her body trembled even though it wasn’t cold. Dara started, pushing herself up as much as she could to look down at herself. Her skin rippled in the moonlight. It was happening again! But Zack had said it wouldn’t.
He’d been wrong.
She stared, horrified yet fascinated. So she hadn’t imagined it after all.
A tiny part of her even wanted it. Part of her desired the natural, unselfconscious freedom she remembered from being a Golden Retriever. No more human worries, or forced smiles when she felt hurt, or trying her best to keep a good attitude in the face of pettiness in the small town that she was so tired of. No more loneliness. In her heart, she’d always been afraid of living out her life in Lone Rock as a curvy woman, of the pain and disappointment of never being loved or accepted the way she craved.
But now she knew Zack. He’d accepted her womanly curves for a little while, if only due to some animal instinct of his. And, she wanted him. Despite his crazy story, she believed they could have something special. She wasn’t sure if that indicated they were meant to be together, though.
So she had to prevent the change into a dog now. It would be the end of her chance to be with Zack. To be a werewolf and mated with a matchless man like Zack.
Her shaking intensified. She trembled in her bonds. A black wave of fear swept through her. She turned her powers of concentration inward to struggle with her body’s urge to shift back into the dog form. Her mind desperately fixed on Zack, revisiting the memory of his touch that had driven the urge right out of her mind. Zack’s clever fingers. Zack’s rough command of her body. The sweet heat of warmth that swirled through her, a pale echo of Zack’s powerful sensuality, kept the change at bay.
Barely.
Dara gritted her teeth and remembered their entire tryst in the forest, each erotic detail lovingly replayed. She gasped with the effort of concentration as she awaited Zack’s return.
4
Zack ran until he couldn’t smell his mate anymore. Only then, with the potent lure of Dara wind-cleared from his nostrils, did he stop in the middle of a rolling hillside meadow. He lifted his muzzle to the moon and howled his frustration.
Then he shifted back into his man-form, letting his hand tightly grip his cock. It would be a moment’s work to ease the pain of his desire.
His hand dropped, leaving his erection bobbing in the air. He wouldn’t do it. His potency was demanded, perhaps every drop required.
He stared at the sky, his nose twitching at all the scents, his ears quivering with the sounds of the night. The breeze cascaded gently down the mountain to caress his body. Normally the fresh, natural touch of the wild soothed him. Tonight Zack wasn’t soothed. The wind came from the direction of the pack land he’d been so recently evicted from, bringing memories.
And, belated realization. Zack blinked slowly at the sky, his body straining with tension, his mind filled with the sudden ache of the epiphany the memories brought: He wasn’t potent enough and would never be potent enough, because he wasn’t an alpha. He couldn’t help Dara, could never mate with Dara. Not if he truly wanted to help her change into a werewolf instead of a dog.
What she needed, very soon, was an alpha. Only an alpha could help her the way she needed. Zack wasn’t that alpha, but there was a convenient alpha just up the mountain. The old packmaster himself. The same one who’d threatened Zack with death if he entered his pack land again.
The packmaster was too old for Dara. But Zack knew the man wasn’t too old to manage a mating. He might be a bad leader, as packmasters went, but he wasn’t senile. Certainly he wasn’t too decrepit to mate with Dara.
Zack wanted to howl at the moon again, this time with rage and loss, but he restrained the urge. Barely. It wouldn’t help Dara if he indulged the urge to commune with the moon.
Instead, Zack forced himself to coldness, analytically examining the situation.
As much as he wanted her, Dara’s virginity wasn’t for him. She was his mate, his nose told him that much, but Zack had to give her up, and soon. He had to bring her to the nearest pack alpha even if did result in his own death, or else Dara would live out her short life as a Golden Retriever. Better for her to mate with another than for that to happen.
Zack heard a savage growl and realized a moment later it was coming from his own throat.
He was remembering how the pack had evicted him, just like all packs ultimately did.
He was there again in that room of judgment, knowing his attempt to join the pack was going poorly.
Zack remembered looking around at all the upset and angry faces. He’d searched for one person, just one solitary werewolf among the Cascade Pack who was willing to stick up for him. Who’d speak for him, thereby allowing him to stay with the pack instead of being pushed out like some kind of leper.
Nobody would meet his gaze. Not even Lucas, the teenage son of the alpha. Zack had successfully paired Lucas with a true mate found while passing through a different pack a few months ago. At least the boy had the good grace to blush.
At least the boy had a mate. Zack had nobody. Even if he found an available female werewolf, why would she choose a lone wolf like him? Without a pack, Zack had no status or security or werewolf camaraderie to offer any pups. He was no alpha to fight for status, even if the opportunity presented itself. And of course, no pack would have him due to the notoriety from his damned gift.
Zack thought of his gift as similar to a game of concentration: Sniffing anywhere near a werewolf in one town let Zack match them up to another werewolf at any time later. Later, in Lucas’s case, had meant only a few months. Often it took much longer to encounter a match. Years sometimes.
Zack shook his head. He felt old beyond his thirty years. He’d been a lone wolf for too long. His mate-matching ability was too well known among the werewolf packs. Zack was infamous.
His folded arms twitched and his hand crept over old scars marring his belly with thin, long-healed zig-zags of white. Zack’s first serious scars, commemorating his first experience with a broken-up couple’s wrath. The man had been enraged, which was understandable, but he’d also lost control and attacked. Zack was grateful to only receive scars. It was a valid legacy of a fight with the werewolf who hadn’t liked hearing his wife’s real mate waited for her in an Albuquerque pack. The wolf’s fangs had laid Zack open at the belly. They’d also lacerated his cheek, leaving tiny old traceries of the battle on his face, especially his sharp, shadowed jawline. Zack’s hair mostly hid the old scars, but in the right light it made him look violent. Dangerous. Someone who loved to fight.
It wasn’t true. Zack was a lover. He just had no one to love.
Oh, he could find human women to enjoy. They liked him plenty well. But it wasn’t the same. He needed a mate. He needed a mate like air, like water. He had to find her soon and for that he had to be in a pack.
The old packmaster was slumping his shoulders in a most un-alpha like manner. It was like he didn’t bother to set a good example anymore. Or didn’t know how. That wasn’t good. Zack tilted up his chin stubbornly, hiding his trepidation. He watche
d the packmaster carefully.
At a gesture from the alpha, Zack rose. He waited without much hope for the inevitable judgment.
“Mister Reaver.” The pack’s alpha was insultingly formal now that he didn’t need Zack to match up his son anymore. The night before, they were all on a first-name basis. They’d run together though the forest then afterward he and the packmaster traded stories about females. The packmaster had called Zack a friend and expressed undying gratitude.
“Packmaster.” Zack didn’t make much effort to hide the contempt in his voice. He probably should have.
The old wolf’s upper lip skinned back into a momentary snarl. Zack watched him struggle to control his wolf temper, smoothing his craggy features back to impartiality. Or the appearance of impartiality, Zack reminded himself. No alpha, with their notoriously fiery personalities, fought their way to top-wolf status without passions strong enough to power a small sun. But this packmaster’s control seemed weaker than expected. He seemed insecure as a packmaster. Zack himself could do a better job of leadership, he thought in a flash of resentment. Why should this pompous old packmaster have such power over him?
Zack met the alpha’s cruel gaze. Another inadvisable move. Eye contact was considered challenging. Zack normally wouldn’t dare it, but these days he had so little to lose. Zack looked at the alpha, sizing him up. The packmaster was tall and well-groomed. Older than Zack by at least a couple of decades. But, undisciplined. Shifty-eyed. Hard with muscle but his gut seemed soft. And there were those flashes of insecurity. Weakness. Zack could smell it.
And the alpha seemed to know it. He shifted, a nervous movement instantly suppressed. Zack let his nostrils flare, sniffing the news of the alpha’s fear.
He could take the alpha.
The alpha’s only reaction was to let his eyes flicker to Zack’s hands—Zack had no claws showing yet—then he glared deeply into Zack’s unsubmissive eyes. Oh yes, this alpha knew Zack was a threat.
Zack kept his gaze steady and even. Maybe it’d be a quick fight. Maybe he’d even win. Unlikely, considering Zack wasn’t an alpha, but possible.
Zack was on the verge of offering the formal challenge when the packmaster spoke quickly in a loud, ringing voice. “You’ve been a guest with us for nearly one week. You’ve offered a valuable service to the Cascade Pack and we’re grateful for it. But the consensus seems to be that your… unique talent… makes your continuing presence a disruptive element to overall serenity and pack cohesion. Therefore I decline your request to join the Cascade Pack. You’ll be escorted off pack land immediately. I’m sure you understand this isn’t personal.”
Escorted, like he was some kind of criminal? Zack felt his own temper spike but his voice remained level and reasonable. “The disruption is from the broken relationships, but that’s to be expected. Split-up couples are hurt. Some are even angry. It’s natural and I’ve seen it a hundred times. You did ask for me to come here. For your son, remember? You got what you wanted, and now you’re throwing me out?”
The packmaster merely looked smug. Zack wanted to rip the smugness from his face. Zack’s hands twitched when he realized the packmaster expected him to meekly comply. Zack let his rage show in his eyes, knowing they immediately turned yellow. “You’re an unwise and weak leader. I challen--”
The packmaster shouted over Zack. The alpha’s snarl was back, but his eyes telegraphed desperation. “Don’t be reckless. It won’t be allowed, and I’ll tell you why. I didn’t want to make this public, but your reaction makes it necessary. You mated with many of those ‘hurt, vulnerable’ females the moment they were available, didn’t you? Yes. And you… comforted… some of the males too.” The look of disgust on the packmaster’s face was clearly fake. The reek of his fear had Zack’s hackles bristling even as the packmaster’s accusation penetrated.
Zack was speechless for a long moment. “I didn’t--”
The packmaster smiled evilly. “You are opportunistic and an undesirable element, not a valuable addition to this pack. I speak for many others when I say we don’t want your kind here.”
The baseless accusations stunned Zack speechless. He hadn’t had sex with any females of the pack, hurt and lonely ones or otherwise. He certainly hadn’t taken advantage of anyone at any time, or done anything inappropriate with the males.
Zack almost didn’t see the packmaster’s son step forward. “He didn’t do anything like that--”
“He did. I’m sorry, Son.” The packmaster’s sorrowful expression was as authentic as a three-dollar bill. “Now, get him off the pack’s land.” He gestured to two henchmen.
But before Zack could react or explain or issue a proper challenge, two angry males descended on him. He recognized them even before they clamped their hands tightly around Zack’s arms. They were the two that he’d made mateless, of course. Their females had confessed to Zack they were happy to be free of them. Looking at the two brainless bruisers Zack could see why. And now they believed he’d mated with their women. Their packmaster had said so, therefore it must be true. By pack tradition, packmaster didn’t lie.
Zack struggled but the two hot-tempered males didn’t slow down or bother to learn the truth. If Zack was lucky he’d only be “escorted” to his truck. If not, they’d slice Zack to ribbons. As a lone wolf, Zack didn’t have the status to protest or any friends to back him up. “He’s lying,” Zack protested anyway, but there was no heat behind his words. Nobody would believe him. Not about that and certainly not about the tidbits the packmaster had revealed the night before after a few too many drinks. Confessions that could only be given to a no-status transient like Zack.
The unburdening fell into its proper perspective as the thugs frog-marched Zack toward the door. In a bitter flash, Zack recalled the packmaster’s lustful boasting about all the young females he’d chased down in the forest during the full moon’s frenzy, and his prowess at brutally subduing them. He remembered the confession regarding Lucas too—how the old leader feared his own son to a paranoid degree, to the point of humiliating and beating Lucas frequently. He was afraid of being challenged as packmaster. Afraid for good reasons, Zack realized.
Before the door slammed shut behind him, Zack heard the alpha proclaim after him, “Don’t ever set foot on this pack’s land again, or you’ll forfeit your life.”
The packmaster was desperate to avoid a fight with Zack. The strategy was so obvious that Zack started to laugh.
His laugh turned into a coughing wheeze as the thug on his left elbowed Zack in the stomach.
Fortunately they spared Zack further violence, limiting themselves to throwing him against the side of his truck. They watched, arms folded, as Zack hooked his keys from his jeans pocket, climbed into his truck, and drove away.
Down the hill to the nearby mountain town, where he’d nearly run over his mate.
Dara.
Thinking of her created a wave of longing to shudder through his body.
His erection returned instantly.
Before he knew quite what he was doing, Zack found himself running back to his truck. To Dara.
He knew something was wrong when he didn’t see her where he’d left her.
5
As Zack looked around, panicked, he saw a shadow emerge from the night. It crashed into him, bringing him to the ground. Dara, a length of gnawed-apart rope still dangling from one naked wrist, grabbed at him. “You were wrong!” she shouted. “It’s happening again!”
It took Zack only a moment to realize what she meant. She shuddered against him, gasping. He grabbed her shoulders, held her before him. Her eyes had gone yellow and he could see the telltale shudders of someone fighting a shift. She cried out mournfully, panting, then seemed to fixate on Zack. On his body.
Her breath sped. In the next heartbeat, she wrapped her arms around him and ground her body against his. “I want you now, right now,” she demanded.
He was so surprised he held her closer, grinding back, before he came to his senses
. He couldn’t take her. Not now that he’d realized she needed an alpha.
But Dara wasn’t taking no for an answer. She hooked one of her feet behind his knees and toppled him. She landed on top, but his superior reflexes allowed him to immediately flip her around onto her back. Zack figured he could better control her surprising effort at seduction that way, though his cock protested Zack’s restraint with a series of painful throbs. Dara, he suddenly realized, would be an exceedingly difficult woman to resist.
She gasped and clawed at Zack, the aggressive desperation of her animal side revealing itself for the first time. The slivers of pain from Dara’s fingers raking down his back sent erotic shivers all through him.
He growled, his nostrils flaring and his control straining. Her moist pink tongue, when it flicked out to lick her lips, mesmerized him. When she bucked against him, nudging his erection, he actually whimpered.
This was not acceptable. He had to satisfy her, but he couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t…
She bucked again, and Zack roared with frustration. He pushed away in simple self-preservation, shoving her back against the ground hard enough to drive the breath from her, but she only smiled. Her teeth flashed whitely in the dappled moonlight, filling Zack’s head with lustful images of her using those teeth to nibble on him. He dodged her seductive grinding by moving down her luscious body. As he kissed his way down the slopes of her breasts and the smooth soft planes of her belly he couldn’t resist taking a taste.
Her salty sweat made him moan with eagerness. He avoided her suggestive thrusting and her fierce efforts to pull him up between her legs. She wanted what he did—a hard, primal pounding—but he had a different target in mind. He wriggled lower until his head bumped her pubic mound.
He mashed his face against the soft, sweetly furred mound and the cleft it hid. Zack shoved her legs apart. He tormented himself by letting his tongue flick out to dance sinuously at the tip of her now-parted slick folds. Dara growled the kinds of swear words Zack wouldn’t have expected of her, then bucked her crotch at him as hard as a punch to his chin. Zack didn’t mind. He grinned. When had his shy mate turned into such an animalistic force of nature, and with such a salty vocabulary to match? His cock throbbed, turned on by his mate’s dirty words and looking forward to a vigorous mating.
Howl & Growl: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 3