North Wolf

by M. A. Everaux

  Eben didn’t bow at all, but looked around the crowd, like a king viewing his subjects.

  The three old men stepped forward, almost a single entity in their unity. The one in the middle seemed to be the speaker for the other two as they faced the pack and meted out their decision.

  “We hereby declare this challenge binding and subject to those laws that govern the pack. Theron Granville is hereby censured by the Elders, and turned over to the formal challenge of pack leader.”

  And that was it. The minute they were done speaking, the battle between the two men started.

  A long howl suddenly cut through the clearing. Gwen jerked her head over and saw Eben, in the center of the circle with his head thrown back, his arms held out at his sides. His flesh rippled, and like some horrible experiment gone wrong, he began to change before her eyes, his muscles and bones shifting with painful cracks and groans, his nose and mouth elongating, making room for rows of sharp teeth, and his legs bending and breaking, only to reshape themselves as he fell to the ground on all fours. All along his body, thick, black hair sprouted, and soon his skin was entirely covered. In Were form, he was just as huge as she’d remembered, and just as frightening.

  Others in the crowd began to change, although it certainly wasn’t everyone. Those who did fell to all fours and completed their transitions as if it were nothing unusual. And it wasn’t, she supposed. Not one person looked at them oddly.

  More and more howls joined the first, until the forest was filled with their sounds of joy and sorrow as first Eben, and then others rose, completely shifted over to their Were forms.

  She took a step back as the creatures got up, suddenly taller and larger than she could scarcely believe. Different colors of pelts were mixed in with the other human forms swathed in heavy jackets, from the blackest of blacks, to the palest creams. Size differed from creature to creature, but every one dwarfed her and was armed with lethal claws and fangs that were sharp enough to kill in a single bite.

  “Relax,” Connor said beside her, his face unchanged and as kind as she remembered. “None of them will hurt you. It’s simply a shift in skin. Their hearts and personalities remain the same, even if they do become a bit more wild.”

  She nodded. “Right,” she breathed, trying to convince herself. Then the fight started, and she forgot everything else. “Come on. We need to go forward. I want to see everything.”

  They went through the crowd, moving slowly through the sea of bodies. Gwen kept her eyes on the ring in the center, wincing and looking away every few seconds, but unable to not witness the fight. Theron attacked Eben first, coming so quick and strong that Eben was thrown to his back, forced to fight the other Were off with claws and teeth. Gwen was crying within minutes.

  He screamed in pain as the red-pelted Were scraped his claws down his side, and then he roared and threw him off. He flipped to his feet, and prowled around the circle, ignoring the chanting of the crowd surrounding him.

  “We’ve got to get closer,” Gwen gasped, even as Connor tried pulling her back. She shook her head at him and pushed forward, searching for a better vantage. When she saw a spot just outside the ring, she took it, pulling Connor in close behind her.

  Theron attacked again, aiming low, but this time Eben was ready, and swiped at him with his claws. Theron grunted, but gave no indication he was hit as he jumped back and prepared for another attack, circling slowly.

  He fell to all fours, and stood completely still, his lip lifted in a snarl. Eben lowered himself, and just as his front legs touched the ground, Theron attacked, charging forward and plowing into Eben, taking him to his back.

  They snarled fiercely, clawing and ripping at each other. Theron stayed on top, holding Eben down, his muzzle just inches from his throat. When he finally lunged forward, Eben turned just slightly, but enough. Theron latched onto Eben’s shoulder, his teeth going deep even as bone snapped and tissue tore through.

  “Eben!” Gwen yelled, her heart stopping in her throat as the terrible noises reached her ears. It was like nothing she’d ever heard, awful crunching and gurgling as blood collected in Theron’s throat. She would hear that sound in her nightmares.

  Theron growled deep and clenched his jaw even tighter. Eben’s head fell back as he screamed with pain, even as his hand came up and smashed against Theron’s side, jarring both of them with the impact. There was another snap as Theron rolled away, the jerk of his teeth breaking another bone in Eben’s shoulder.

  Theron was already up, waiting for Eben to roll to his feet. When he did, he wavered slightly. His eyes went over the crowd quickly, and when they landed on her, they stayed for a minute. Gwen’s knees nearly gave out.

  He turned back to the center of the ring, his one shoulder useless, his side ripped open from Theron’s claws. He stood there, looking beaten down like she’d never seen him look before. Broken.

  “You can yield,” Theron muttered thickly, stalking forward. “But I’d still kill you.”

  “Then fight, and finish it.”

  They charged, and somehow Eben managed to throw Theron off, so far he bowled into the crowd, knocking over pack members, causing some of them to yip in fright and pain. With a savage curse he got to his feet, scraping his claws over the chest of one who didn’t move, snarling at the rest in warning. Then he turned back to the circle, his eyes glinting evilly in the pale light. His head fell back in a howl, and then he ran forward, diving toward Eben, who moved back at the last second, and swiped his claws down Theron’s back.

  “Connor,” Gwen said worriedly, her eyes locked on the scene in front of her. “This is not going well.” She squeezed his hand as the Weres went for each other, once again meeting in the center. Again, Theron went down, but it was close this time, with Eben nearly losing his balance and falling onto his damaged shoulder. “Connor—”

  “I know,” he said hoarsely. “I know.”

  In the circle, Theron got up slowly, his back open nearly to the bone. His breathing was hard, and his head hung low for a second. Then he moved sideways around Eben, who stood still in the center of the circle. When Theron moved again, it was too fast for Gwen to even see. He dodged low, his claws going for the soft tissue of Eben’s stomach. Eben snarled, and didn’t allow it.

  He lunged forward, snapping at his opponent’s throat. But it was his clawed hand that did the most damage, wrapping around and digging through the already flayed layers of skin and muscle of Theron’s back until he connected with his spine. He shoved his claws through it, shattering nerves and vertebrae, and with a vicious tug, he severed it completely, dragging out a length of the shiny bone and leaving it to sparkle dully in the night.

  Theron’s body stiffened in shock and pain, his eyes going wide for a minute just as a scream of defeat poured from his throat.

  And like that, it was over. Eben leapt away from his opponent, scraped and bleeding, but the victor. Theron crumpled to the ground and lay still, gasping for breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. After a minute, his body gave up the fight, and he died.

  Gwen didn’t know at what point she fell, but suddenly she was being hoisted up by Connor and carried forward. He said nothing to the other pack members as he entered the circle with her securely in his arms.

  Eben’s head swung around and he growled, his lips lifting in warning. Connor stopped just inside the circle, every muscle tight with tension. “I’m bringing her to you, Alpha. I’m bringing you your mate.”

  When he took another step, Eben’s growl deepened, but his eyes were on Gwen. “Put me down,” she whispered, loosening her hold on Connor’s neck as he let her feet touch the ground. Carefully, she walked forward, tears running down her cheeks as she reached for him. The minute her fingers touched his body, she collapsed against him. His uninjured arm curled around her back, holding her to him tightly.

  Every fear she’d ever had about being terrified of him while he was changed completely slipped from her head. She clung to him, wrapping her hands
in his thick pelt as she felt for herself that he was well and healthy, if a bit beat up. His arm and shoulder were a complete ruin, as was his side, but he seemed otherwise to be well. From the crowd, one of the Weres howled. Eben’s head fell back and joined in, and Gwen couldn’t do anything except wrap her arms around his thick neck and hold onto him for all she was worth.

  The call went on and on, and then suddenly the crowd was surging forward, bowing to him, wishing him prosperity and many cubs. She hid her head farther in his neck and waited for it to be over, wanting nothing except to go home and sleep.

  “You’re hurt,” she whispered against his chest, once the changed Weres had run off, and the unchanged were intent on changing and joining a hunt.

  “I’ll live,” he growled out, his changed mouth working oddly to create the words.

  She wiggled enough that he released her, but she stayed near his side, watching him in case his loss of blood and injury suddenly took its toll. “Where’s Connor?” she asked, searching the crowd for his familiar form. “We need to get you home. You’re going to need stitches, I think.”

  But he didn’t hear her. His eyes were staring through the woods, his body tensing as the sounds of the Weres crashing through underbrush and chasing God-only-knew-what reached his ears.

  “Eben?” She brushed her hand against his chest, and nearly screeched when his head abruptly turned toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go.”

  “But—your injuries.” She stared pointedly at his shoulder, at the blood that was running freely down. “Eben, you’re hurt.”

  A high-pitched yip filled the air, and he quickly dropped to all fours, his head pointing in the direction it’d come.

  Gwen held onto his fur, grasping it thickly at his back. “Eben, don’t. Please, don’t leave me like this.”

  He turned to her briefly, but he was ready to go, his body thrumming with energy. “I’ll come for you tonight. Christian!”

  Her fingers loosened on him just seconds before he ran from her, his large body rippling with muscle as he ran through the woods, faster than anything she’d ever seen. Just before he disappeared from sight, he met up with a similarly large, blond Were. Together, they chased into the trees, and then they were gone.

  “They can’t help it,” Connor said, coming up behind her, a funny smile on his face. “I raised both of my boys to embrace their dual natures. I believe I succeeded, but perhaps a bit too well.”

  She shook her head, her worry still too fresh. “His shoulder. Connor, he’s hurt. He almost lost. He probably has broken ribs to go along with the shoulder, and his side was ripped up, too.”

  “He’ll heal. And I doubt that he was quite as weakened as he appeared. He’s a smart man. He’d make an advantage out of an injury if it suited his purposes.”

  “Are you sure?” She looked at him pleadingly before returning her stare to the trees they’d disappeared in. “Can he get help if he suddenly goes down?”

  He smiled. “The entire pack is with him, Gwen. He’s safe. Now, you and I are heading home. There’s an excellent cherry pie waiting for us, and a strong cup of tea. After this week, I need it.”

  She took the arm he offered and reluctantly walked away from the clearing, the excited sounds of the Weres hunting ringing in her ears.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Near midnight, she was wide awake, her eyes pasted to the window leading out to the front. So far, there was nothing, but she felt sure that he’d show.

  “I was wondering on the type of wedding you’d care for me to plan? I was thinking of something simple and elegant, with just a few friends and family.” Connor frowned and looked up from the notepad he was scribbling in. “I do hope your mother won’t be able to make it, however. I absolutely fear meeting her. What do you think?”

  She turned her head. “Hmm? What was that?”

  “The wedding. Your mother. Fear of meeting her. What are your thoughts on all this?”

  “Oh God. Please tell me you’re not going to start in on all this.” She turned back to the window, sure she’d seen something move. But there was nothing. Just a partial moon and an empty yard. “You’re supposed to be on my side for this. There’s no reason we have to rush getting married.”

  “Oh, you’ll marry him for sure. And sooner than you realize. Now, as I was saying, it won’t be more than a hundred people. We’ll have to speak to someone immediately about a dress for you, and of course a florist—”

  “Connor,” she said, swinging around and pinning him with her coldest stare, “The most he’s going to manage to do is get me before a justice of the peace. I’d dye my own hair green before I do a wedding, as I’m sure you already know.”

  He smiled in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair. “Just so you realize you will be getting married. It’s a shame really, though. I do so enjoy a wedding, and I know so few humans. I wish the Weres had adopted the practice.”

  She let his voice drone on and turned back to the window, anxious to see something. Anything. Eben had promised. She just hoped he didn’t wait until four in the morning to fulfill it.

  Her eyes wandered over the yard, and after a time, she turned back to the living room, her eyes getting heavy as she stared at the crackling fire. Connor smiled at her and turned back to his notebook, a fresh glass of brandy at his elbow.

  Minutes before the clock struck one, Connor’s head lifted, and his eyes got that faraway look that he adopted when his wild side rose.

  “They’re back.”

  Gwen got slowly to her feet and looked out the window. There, just in the distance, a shaggy form stood, pale yellow in the moonlight. And just beyond him, there was another. Darker, larger and more fierce.

  “I’ll get your coat,” Connor said.

  The air was beyond brisk, beyond cold. It was fucking freezing.

  Gwen stopped just beyond the porch and stared out into the woods even as Eben’s dark body slinked forward. He was still on all fours, his back bent as his body hunched down.

  “Eben?”

  He trotted forward, coming at her quickly. She started to scream even as he halted in front of her and buried his head in her stomach. Gwen’s knees gave out and she sank to the ground, the frozen snow and wind completely forgotten.

  “Are you okay?”

  He hunkered down with her. Even lying on his stomach as he was doing, his head was almost level with hers. It made her feel ridiculously small, as if she were a child playing with a German shepherd.

  “We hunted.”

  She leaned down and laid her head against his neck, her hands digging into his soft fur. “What now? What do we do?”

  “You will marry me.”

  She held her breath, and then let it out slowly on a sigh. “Yes. I will marry you.”

  “I want the words, Gwen.”

  She lifted her head and looked into his odd eyes. She knew what he was asking for, knew it because she wanted to say them as much as he wanted to hear them. “I do love you,” she whispered.

  A rumble came from his chest as he laid his head in her lap, his clawed hands clenching gently against her legs as he inhaled her scent. “I want to love you. Like this. In my pelt.”

  “Now?” She looked around, but saw no one. It was still unnerving, though. The house was right there, and she knew Christian was somewhere close. “Eben, they’ll see.”

  “Now.” He got up on all fours, his fingers slipping into the waist of her sweatpants and pushing them down. “I need you,” he growled.

  Gwen shook, but she allowed him to remove her pants and underwear. He left the rest of her clothes alone, although she suspected that was more for protection against the cold than any desire on his part.

  He positioned her knees on her discarded sweats, and pushed her to her hands, already rising up behind her. His cock brushed against her bare legs. She shivered, but not from the cold.

  “It’s going to be fast,” he snarled, pushing her legs wider. “And hard.”<
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  Gwen nodded, watching him over her shoulder. She should have been terrified. Here she was, about to screw around with a creature that rightfully belonged in her nightmares, yet she couldn’t seem to get past the lust. It was there, as always, just beneath the surface, waiting only for the slightest hint from Eben.

  Gwen wiggled her hips at him. “I’m waiting,” she breathed.

  He laughed throatily, the sound coming out more like a threat than something signaling amusement. Slowly, he pushed his cock forward. He didn’t stop until he was inside her to the hilt.

  He stayed still, his hands locked on her hips, the fur of his pelt rubbing against her thighs and lower back. “We’re to have a baby.”

  Gwen closed her eyes, the cold of the snow barely even a thought compared to the heat of him deep inside her. “I know.”

  And suddenly, he started fucking her, and just as he’d promised, it was rough and fast and hard. Gwen loved every glorious minute of it.

  About the Author

  M.A. Everaux has never been to Canada, nor has she met a werewolf. Yet. She hopes to head an expedition soon, and in the meantime, spends most of her time at her computer, clacking away and putting the things that pop into her head on paper.

  The author welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Ave., Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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